Short Story: Stolen

By: Pilena

His dead body lies limp in the wet street. His hollow eyes pierce through my blurring vision as I wobble backwards, regaining my balance with each step. Thunder shatters the sky, and as it does so, I feel the man twitch his fingers — as if he is beckoning me to join him in his gruesome death.

My mind never left that moment. Only during work was I able to relieve myself of what I had seen. People have always called me headstrong, yet now I don’t even deserve to be called the daughter of the Thompsons. Guilt swayed inside of me like a sea turned turbulent; I could have stopped them. I could have saved him. But, like a coward, I hid behind the shadows of the narrow alleyway, so easily becoming a silent witness to the harrowing crime set upon me.

“If you know what’s good for you, then keep your mouth shut. We don’t need another one of those snitches that only look out for themselves,” muttered the vague figure. “Now, give us the painting so we can get outta here.”

“W-what’s happening? Who are you guys?”

The manin the street whimpered as he was cornered by two others, shrinking back in utter fear. His eyes bounced back, still unaware of the situation. They were of an astonishing violet; they were of shades that were indescribable even with the human language. I felt his eyes wander towards an area dangerously near me, and I quickly faced away. The picture of his eyes stood imprinted in my mind — they were paralyzing.

“So you’re that kind of guy then? Let me tell you this; you won’t be able to stall, ’cause if you do, then you’re well aware of what’s gonna happen.” The person smirked as he made a hand motion, demonstrating a slice of the neck.

Violet Man searched frantically for any possible escape, glancing back and forth until, coincidentally, his eyes met mine.

” There she is – save me! Have mercy!” He screamed, flailing out his arms.

I pushed myself closer to the building and its shadows, and made no sign of existence for the sake of my life – my breaths were uneven and gasping, with my eyes shut tightly closed. But there was nothing to protect my ears as a splintering crack broke through the air.

My eyes snapped open. The helpless, violet-eyed man fell down on the concrete as a river of blood streamed from his body.

He was dead.

I took a promenade down the hill of memories as I walked back home after editing some newspaper articles. The latest was about a robbery of the national art museum. Something about it felt off…

My distracted mind didn’t even notice the pole blatantly standing in front of me.

“Watch out! Gosh, women these days… Always running into poles,” a guy grunted.

I looked back to see a middle-aged man with his blond hair tied back in a small ponytail – he was practically massacring the metal pole with his cart full of flyers. Ignoring what the man had said, I stepped closer to the taped paper.

A picture of Violet Man, alive, stared back.

It was about the museum theft from the article.

“This man had recently stolen the most prized possession in the National Art Museum; The Lost Child. Anyone who passes by this thief, please call the police.”

What’s happening … ?

My mind searched for answers, reviewing everything that happened that day.

“If you know what’s good for you, then keep your mouth shut. We don’t need another one of those snitches that only look out for themselves,” muttered the vague figure. “Now, give us the painting so we can get outta here.”

The painting… the lost painting…

Except, the man in the flyer had eyes of grey dullness.

Short Story: Halloween Mystery

By: Pilena

“Hey! Come on let’s get some candy!” My friend Julie shouted at me. Julia, Cassie, Philena, Lucy, and I were in my neighborhood, Townland, to celebrate Halloween. We were going from house to house, when we realized that Philena and Lucy weren’t walking with us.

“Um… guys, where are Philena and Lucy?” I asked.

“Maybe she’s at home; let’s go back,” Julie said.

“Hey guys! What’s up? I just went to the other side of the neighborhood to go to the haunted house,” Lucy said as she was catching up to us.

“So what if she isn’t walking with us right now? She’ll be fine. Who cares?” Lucy said.

Since the last time I can remember, Lucy and Philena were always in a dispute. They always had a reason to be angry at each other. Lately, Philena had been asked to the Halloween Dance by the boy Lucy liked. They were still in a dispute over that.

When I tried to open the door, I couldn’t open it. That’s strange. We just got a new door. Is there something behind the door? Julie and I went through the back door. She was dead.

I immediately called the police, panicking. I was dizzy, almost ready to faint. When the police arrived they examined her. The police said she probably died of natural causes because there was no blood around her, and no fingerprints on her. I was very confused. What natural cause would make her die? Then, I looked closer at her neck. It was unhealthily red. The print on her neck looked like a handprint. However, if she died of natural causes, the red might have just been a reaction. It’s always worth it to ask, though…

“Um, excuse me…. What are the red marks on her neck?” I asked the police.

“It is the reaction of…” The police officer trailed off, closely examining the red marks.

“It is a hand shape,” he stood up, shocked. “She was strangled,” The police said.

I fell to my knees, accidentally knocking down the pizza we had earlier. Who would murder Philena? She was the nicest person ever. She stood proud through all of the mean comments. She was always polite. Whoever killed her must not have known her…. But, it was in my house. So whoever it was had to be in my house earlier. I had locked the doors before we left for trick-or-treating, and no one except family has a key, so who could it be? There was no shattered glass or any signs of a break-in. When I came in through the back door, I don’t remember trying a key to get in. I just walked in. Does that mean that the murderer came in through the back door? He or she didn’t leave fingerprints…. I ran over to the pantry. In the pantry was the box of gloves. I saw a tiny smudge of red. That means that either the person was in haste and accidentally got pizza sauce on the box, or it was one of our friends and she ate pizza, then got gloves. I stumbled backward in shock. What if it was one of the people in my house right now?

I walked over to the sink, to see if the soap or sponge had been used. I noticed red on the sponge. What is that? I walked over, and I realized that there were no blood marks because the murderer had cleaned it up. That means that she had been hurt, and that the police wasn’t very thorough. I looked closely looked at her arm. It was twisted in a bad angle, and it had tiny red circles. It was probably where the murderer had hurt her.

When I walked back to where my friends had stood, I was confused. It was totally one of them, but they had been with me the entire time. Wait… There was one time when I wasn’t with everyone… Who was it? Oh yeah! It was Lucy! She went to the haunted house! Time to ask some questions…

“So, Lucy… You went to the haunted house, did ya?”

“Yeah. Uh… It was terrifying. I screamed a lot!” Lucy said. It was clear she was lying.

“So, where was this? Also, when did you start liking haunted houses? Last time I remember, you were the only one who didn’t want to go on the merry-go-round because you were scared. And now you are going to a haunted house? Willingly?”

“Uh… I–” Lucy began.

“You didn’t go, did you? You came here, through the door, and strangled Philena, didn’t you?” I turned to the police incredulous over what I had just discovered. “Are you going to arrest her?”

“Uh… At this point, I can’t arrest her, because there isn’t sufficient evidence. Right now, we can only find her fingerprints on the glove box. But that doesn’t say much without any other evidence. At this point, she is under watch but not under arrest.”

Lucy flashed a smirk at me.

Lucy whispered in my ear,”Ha! They’ll never find out! She ruined my life forever, and now I ruined hers.”

She had a look of triumph and satisfaction. She had covered her evidence enough that the police couldn’t find a reason to arrest her! One day, I will get my revenge! One day….

Spanish Short Stories: Los Cuentos

Practice your Spanish by reading these stories created by Senora Vincent’s students.

Jorge el monstruo- 2nd period

Anoche en las montañas misteriosas, fue un monstruo se llamó Jorge. Jorge tuvo hambre, pero no había comida en las montañas. Un día, Juan quiso esquiar en las montañas entonces Juan compró el equipo de esquiar. Juan corrió a las montañas. Juan esquió por todo el día. El monstruo miró a Juan. Jorge tuvo mucho hambre y Juan miró bueno. Juan esquió y el monstruo después de Juan. Juan esquió con su amigo, José. José fue triste porque el monstruo fue su hermano. José habló con Jorge y Jorge no quiso comer Juan. ¡Jorge quiso comer el tocino en la chaqueta de Juan!


Juan y El Garaje- 3rd period

Esta la noche, el garaje del Juan es muy sucio y desordenado. La madre de Juan dice “¡Juan, limpia el garaje ahora!” Juan va al garaje para limpiar con los pantalones. A él no le gusta el garaje. Juan piensa una bruja vive en el garaje, pero necesita limpiar allí. Cuando está limpiando, Juan escucha algo. “¿Quién está allí?” pregunta Juan. Entonces, una bruja viene de detrás del coche. Juan grita “¡AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Entonces, Juan corre para la casa.


Javier y Sophie- 4th period

El año pasado … cuando hace mucho frio … Javier esquió en Mount Everest. Esquiar en Mount Everest es muy difícil. Pero, Javier, y su perro Sophie, son muy deportistas. Cuando Javier y Sophie estuvieron encima de Mount Everest. Sophie caminó lejos de Javier. él miró y miró para Sophie cuando el esquió.

“Sophie no está aquí!” Javier habló.

Entonces, Sophie caminó a Javier. Sophie y Javier entonces esquíaron en Mount Everest.

Ahora, Javier y Sophie viven en Lincolnshire. Pero, cada fin de semana, Javier y Sophie van a las montañas para esquiar.


Marcela y el perro- 6th period

Hay una cama. El despertador está en la mesita al lado de la cama. “¡Sonido!” Ella salta de la cama. Ella corre a la ventana y salta. Ella ahora, está en un coche. Durante la acción, el perro está caminando al lado del coche. Ella salta encima del perro y mata el perro. El perro tiene solo un año. ¡Qué triste! Marcela está triste. La madre de Marcela sale de la casa y dice “¡Haz tus quehaceres!” Marcela pone el perro en la basura. Va a la casa y hace los quehaceres.

Little Devils

By Joyce B.

Everyone has their own experience of something horrifying. Their own tale of the most terrifying moment of their life. My story rises above all else, more intense and life changing then any experience you could ever imagine. Here is my tale.

Why of all places? Why?, I thought. About an hour ago I unknowingly entered into the worst situation imaginable. I thought back to about 2:00 when I believed that the most terrifying thing in the world was having to explain planking to your grandma. However at 2:00 December 16 2012, I learned that people weren’t kidding when they said the world would end in 2012.

I took a reluctant step into the elevator. It was already full, but I was late to a meeting. I squeezed in throwing an apologetic glance to my elevator “buddies”, who were a kindergarten class and their 50 year old teacher. As you can tell I had a dreadful feeling already. The terrible music played as I surveyed my surroundings. They were staring up at me with an evil glance, the kind of look that could only be held by the most fearsome species ever known to man: little kids.

We were about one minute in the elevator ride, and they were getting more anxious by the second. Suddenly, the elevator lurched to a stop, the lights flickered one, two, three, four times before completely shutting down. I wouldn’t make it to that meeting.

It took me about 10 seconds before I registered the situation at hand. I was in the middle of a sea of obnoxious idiotic petty little kids. Sure, they are adorable but that’s just a trick, once they get attached, they latch on like leeches. I tried my best not to come in contact with any of them, but it was inevitable. Now, this elevator broke down and the kid are freaking out. That teacher has already fainted, and the kids are slowly turning into human grenades. I try my best to calm those little pests but half of them are crying, and the other half are digging in my bag and pulling my hair. The operator down there said that it should only be one hour. Only. I smile shyly to the kids hoping they won’t sense my fear, but they were like dogs. This isn’t going to end well.

I started breathing heavily. It felt like that scene in Star Wars, where they were in the trash disposal and the walls were closing in. They were surrounded by trash, but I was surrounded by kindergarteners. I would have preferred the trash.

Trying to ignore the situation I call the operator down there.

“Hello,” she said in a cheery voice.

“Hi,” I replied in the same tone.

“How may I help you?” She replied.

“Well, I’m a little hungry, I really need  cup of coffee. Oh and there was something else what was it……. Oh yes, right now I a stuck with about thirty five year olds in an elevator. Their teacher has fainted, they are slowly advancing, and I don’t  think I can fend them off. Oh and great another one just ripped my 20 dollar bill in half. You better get me out of here quick or I swear to God-”

She hung up. I slam the phone into the wall, I start screaming and shouting. The kids, suddenly, all shut up, and looked at me. They look at me with that face. The face that says they are about to cry. I immediately tried to soothe them and calm them, but I failed. Now I am surrounded by 30, crying, snotty, little, kids. The teacher’s dead body literally floated up, because of the tears.

“Beep-” the intercom sounded.

“Hello, I am sorry to inform you, but this is taking longer than planned. You might be in the elevator for more than five hours. Thank you for your patience. Beep-” It shut off.

After the news I nearly ended up like their teacher. I needed to get out of there. In elevators you can get out through the top. I looked up. There is a little handle where you can pull it open. I swallow my pride, and took the top off. It appears as if it is doable. But first I have to take care of the kids. I couldn’t leave them there alone, I mean I’m terrible but I not a monster. After some time, and a few slaps, the teacher woke up. I told her of what I am going to do, and I start.

I’m not a pro, but I’ve seen Mission Impossible 4, so I’m more than qualified. I step on the railing, and the top of the elevator is in reach. Pushing up from the top I hoist myself up. By the time I appeared on the top. I was sweating like crazy, and I’m pretty sure my shoes were ruined, but it was all worth it.

“Beep-” the intercom sounded.

“We have received some great news. The fireman have been working hard and we will be down to get you in five minutes.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” I shouted, causing two kids to cry.

I looked down trying to finagle my way down. After about 3 minutes of pure stupidity, which I am familiar with. I finally realized that the only way down was with a ladder. I “patiently” waited for the fireman to come. In about fifteen minutes, notably fifteen not five, they finally came. They rounded up all the children and started to head out.

“Wait,” I shrieked looking down.

Suddenly one of them whirled around holding their gun and pointing it at me. Startled I lost my balance and started falling. I hit the ground with a thud. I didn’t even know firemen had weapons.

I woke up in a white room with four padded walls. I was hooked up to one of those fancy machines from the hospital.

“Nurse,” I yelled, despite the button that they give you that calls the nurse.

She told me that I had suffered severe head injuries and that my arm was broken. She also said that I would have to go to group therapy later because they are convinced that I am mentally insane. Perhaps they’re right. My phone was beeping off the hook; it was my boss. I took a deep breath, and then answered.

“Hello sir, how are you?” I said trying my best to sound like I care, that skill came with a very long career.

“How am I? Really, the biggest meeting in the firm’s history, and you miss it. I would be saying more to you, but Nixon is everywhere, and the NSA does not permit my kind of talk. Come to my office tomorrow, they can’t hear me there.” I sighed. “You know what sir? I quit.” I said hanging up before he could say anything else. I need a new career, who knows? Maybe I’ll even become a kindergarten teacher.

Which Rebecca Caudill Young Readers’ Award Books Should You Read?

1.Your favorite activities include…

  1. Camping and interacting with your many pets.
  2. Painting, dancing, and playing an instrument.
  3. Studying and reading.
  4. Listening to obscure bands and writing poetry based on teen angst.


  1. Your best friend is…
  1. Your pet.
  2. Your sketchbook.
  3. Your novel of choice.
  4. You’re a bit antisocial.


  1. Your favorite color is…
  1. Green
  2. Red. No, Orange. Or maybe yellow. It’s a hard choice.
  3. Mauve, taupe, and vermillion.
  4. A neutral tone of black or grey.


  1. Your family would describe you as…
  1. Natural
  2. Creative
  3. Intelligent
  4. Unique


  1. Your favorite subject in school is…
  1. Natural Science
  2. Art and Music
  3. Any class that involves traditional learning
  4. Lunch


  1. Your favorite movie has…
  1. More animals than humans in it.
  2. A beautiful soundtrack
  3. Lots of dialogue and complex themes
  4. Offbeat humor


  1. Your second home is…
  1. The park
  2. A dance studio
  3. The library
  4. Your room

If you got mostly 1’s….

Read Saving Zasha, The Five Lives of Our Cat Zook and The One and Only Ivan. They contains creatures from a cat to a gorilla, and depict the connection between humans and the natural world. All are perfect choices for an animal lover like yourself.

If you got mostly 2’s….

Read Tuesdays at the Castle, The Clockwork Three, and Chuck Close: Face Book. The fine arts play an integral role in these books, and violinists and doodlers alike will satisfy their craving for creativity with these works.

If you got mostly 3’s…..

Read Slob, Ungifted, and Legend. These novels contain characters who are almost as smart as you are, with tests of logic and wit to boot. You’ll be sure to enjoy the academic pursuits of these geniuses.

If you got mostly 4’s….

Read One for the Murphys, The False Prince, and Charlie Joe Jackson’s Guide to Not Reading. You’ve got an off-beat sense of humor and a spunky personality- just like the protagonists of these books. The rebellious undertones of these plotlines are sure to entertain you.