The Boys Who Lost Their Way by Kevin Ryan

My family and I were on a ski trip in North Conway. We were staying at the Red Jacket and we were skiing everyday at Wildcat mountain. The snow was light and fluffy on the third day. My family had season passes so we could go skiing whenever we wanted. So we started the day putting on our equipment. We had to go to the shop because my left ski clip was broken. This wasn't a problem because we always had time to go to the store. We could hold up on starting because we are there all day long. We didn't have a time limit to stay on the mountain we could stay there from dawn to dusk. After, we finished at the store we went back outside and put on our skis. We started the day out all together on the green and blue trails so my little brother could come with us. He waned to do everything we did as all young kids do. We were going down the hills much faster than the others and we were not going down the trails we should. So our parents told us that we can go and ski on our own. Liam and I were allowed to go down any ski trail of any color. The jumps were allowed and we are able to stay out till three o'clock. We were getting lectures from our parents about safety and about how there were other people on the trails. I was getting really annoyed with what they were saying. So after the lecture we of course didn't listen to a word that they said about being safe and being aware of the other people on the trails. We went through passages in the trees and over the jumps in the park. We went down one very long and downhill passage. The passage ended in a dead end. I got really nervous and started to freak out. Liam and I thought that we were going to die at the passage. We thought that wolfs or a bear were going to eat us. We thought it was best to come back the way we came. We took thirty minutes to get to the end. The time felt like forever.We finally got out of the passage after we took off our skis and walked the whole way there. We made it out in the end and went on to keep skiing.

On Bolas Road by Eddie Cawley

It was a cold, crisp night, with shouts of screaming kids grabbing candy from innocent owners, and smells of fruity pieces and chocolate bars wafting through the air. Amidst all of this, my friends and I were pouncing up the driveway of a rather dark, and drab- looking house. Nevertheless, we still were going to hit it, and have a good laugh while doing it. To our delight, there was a basket sitting on the top of the stairs just waiting for greedy, sixth grade hands to yank handfuls and handfuls out. The candy was staring at us, and daring us to take it home. My friends and I did this except we were getting cocky, especially when we made the decision to take the wicker basket along with us. The basket was nice and smooth, a perfect basket for housing candy. As one might know, baskets are a kid's dream on Halloween. No watchful eyes are guarding it, and no cranky adults to yell at you. So, we did what we ordinarily done at every "basket house" that we had come across, and each took a turn at dumping the scattered remains into our bags. The only problem was that the house was surrounded by transparent windows, capable of showing people what mischievous acts we were up to. It was a perfect mix of Kit Kats and Starbursts, so who could blame us. We were not committing a federal crime or anything like it, just merely being kids and yearning more candy for the grueling, cold, sugarless nights that lie dead ahead in November, December, and January. But apparently to a guarding eye inside the house we were criminals. Just as we started to move forward onto the next house, we all heard a voice ordering, "Stop!". A female had appeared at the door with an angry look residing on her face. She had blonde hair like Medusa's snakes, because it was all messy and she was fairly short as well. We did not really want to stop and have a chat with this lovely lady on Halloween, so we turned around and booked it. The driveway was decently long, thus giving the lady enough time to get her ever-so-tough husband out of the house to give the troubled kids a good yelling. The man shouted, "Duckin Bathholes!" We glanced backwards and started to run again. This pleasant man was not the type of person I wanted to speak with either. We were happy that we got away with a boatload of candy, but what happened next mystified us. The man got in his car, and to our amazement started pulling down the driveway! The nerve that guy must have had! We really put on the wheels now, and flew down Bolas Road, not sure if the guy intended on putting up a chase. At the moment, we were faster than Usain Bolt. After about 10 houses, we turned around and noticed there was a car aways behind us. It stopped when we stopped and moved when we moved. Intending on finding out what this was about, we started to slowly move in the general direction of the car under the cover of some bushes of course. While spying on the car from the rough thickets and brambles of the wooded area, a familiar Yukon XL passed the supposed stalker's car. We crawled out of the bushes, and brushed ourselves off, so that my mother would not have any suspicious ideas or questions. None of us wanted to face the wrath of my mom if she found out about the night. My car pulled up on the side of the road and all of us piled into the back, downing the cups of water that my mom had graciously brought for our dry, sugared mouthes. Unlike other Halloweens we were not all tired, but curious on who was in that car. My mom smiled and questioned us about the night. She asked, "How was our time, and did we behave ourselves." I slickly replied, "Yeah, it was okay, but we are all getting too old for this. And yeah we were awesome, and didn't cause any ruckus."

The House I May Not Return To by Blake Riley

It's New Hampshire, 2002, and I was having the time of my life. Our family had a house on a lake in New Hampshire for generations. I didn't know it then, but this would be one of the most sad memories I would have of my family. The single most time I remembered vividly was roasting marshmallows and hotdogs on a huge bonfire on the beach next to the lake. It was so dark, you couldn't see anything outside the light of the flames. I remember the orange, flickering faces around the fire; the trees lit up around us like they where on fire. This is most likely the last time the whole Riley family would and could ever be together. It was probably the place where the smell of fire became a good one to me; I remember the smoke mixed with the salt from the lake made it seem like a dream. The sound of the fire was nothing compared to the family talking, children crying, and people eating. My father and Uncle Greg had been jet skiing earlier that day, and they where saying "Holy crap that was fun" and "Almost broke your leg there Steve"; My father probably said "Ya lets do it again", and then he broke his leg while riding the ski and we had to leave. My Uncle Greg would pass away the next year from getting hit on his motorcycle by an eighteen wheeler, and his sister, my Aunt Brenda, would go back to Philadelphia to live with her husband. My Uncle Brian won't talk to us because of disputes selling the place. I miss his wife Pam and their two children sometimes, they where the sweetest kids. My aunt Jen and Uncle Paul are the only family we still meet and communicate with. Their daughter Meagan was an infant, and her sister Erin wasn't even born yet. They are my cousins, and I have vivid memory's of them throughout their lifetime. I remember Aunty Jen leaning over and helping me with my marshmallows to make s'mores. We didn't have enough chocolate, but it was still delicious. The separate families where slightly split up but still together; My father, mother, brother and I; Uncle Brian, Aunt Pam, and their first son; Aunty Jen, Uncle Paul and Meagan; Uncle Greg, Aunt Brenda, and my Grandmother together. In groups but still together. I always either burnt the marshmallows to a charred crisp, or took them out too soon. But there is always that one that is just right. I remember venturing my marshmallow soldier into the fiery death of the battlefield, and if he was lucky he would come out a golden brown hero. My grandmother was also there; she is the greatest lady around. My grandfather passed when my dad was in his twenties, and she has been living life to the fullest on her own. The greatest and strongest moment I remember the most was the ecstatic glow on everyone's faces, and how our family will never be like that again. I will never return to this place of bliss, never sleep in its bunk beds, never see the people who loved it so much. That place is simply a memory now, and with that I must live.

Baby Not On Board! by Chris Troiano

"Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwww". The sound of a dying eagle filled the air as we were whizzing along in our Grady-White. I tasted the salty water hit my tongue. the it smelled of fish and crab guys, and seagull poop in the air. On the boat was my dad, his friend, his son that was the same age as me, my brother, and me. But soon did we realize on of those people were missing. Obviously, it wasn't me or my friend because we were in the under cabin eating sandwiches. My dad was driving, and his friend was near the back looking to the opposite side of where my brother fell of. My brother fell of because we later found his shoe had mud on it and he slipped under the metal bars designed to keep his three year old body from falling through. I was 5 or 6 at the time, and he was 2 or 3 years younger than me. He was screaming like a hawk caught in a fishing net choking to death. We discovered this was how he slipped when we got home and he told us the story and there was a big footprint in mud that went off the side of the boat on the starboard side. I said we heard the sounds of a dying bird, but that wasn't really true. We heard him screaming like a little girl that sounded like a bird so we didn't know he was gone for about 45 seconds until my dads friend, who's name is Jeff, said "Where's Mike?" To my dad. Me and my friend heard the sound and just looked at each other. His name was Evan. My dad came rushing towards the door to where we were siting and said "Have you guys seen Mike?" And we both just shrugged our shoulders and came outside. Now the scream was more prominent and I mentioned it to my dad saying "that bird screaming is really freaking me out," and then he must have heard it and looked behind us where the sound was coming from. All we could see was this little orange speck floating on a river of blue and green.my dad quickly jumped to the wheel and turned the boat around. He speed to Michael and almost drive by him. Jeff and he lifted him out of the water and took his wet clothes off and gave him a towel to prevent hypothermia. All this time he was bawling his eyes out making it really funny, yet terrible. You couldn't even imagine the look on my moms face when we told her what happened that night at dinner.

Ouch by Joey Leydon

It was a foggy and muggy morning in the summer on Lake Winnapasakie and I was at the table mowing through my breakfast of pancakes, eggs, home fries, hash browns, and cereal with milk like a lawn mower as fast as possible because today was the day cousins Jimbo, Dave, and Dennis,Dad, and two brothers would go fishing. By the time I was finished with breakfast my brothers Stevie and Jimmie, Dad, and cousin Dave,Dennis, and Jimbo walked in and sat down at the table. They awakened from their deep sleep by the smell of the magical breakfast laid out for them. When I looked up from my food I saw that they they were already dressed after a lot of moaning that I heard from downstairs about getting up and their hair looked like they fell out of bed and rolled around on the floor. But they were still as estatic as I was for going fishing, but I was kind of worried because I went fishing the day before and my toe made a meal for a snapping turtle. What we were going to be fishing today were at least fish that were 2 feet long, and the occasional snapping turtle, and then release them back to the lake. We all laughed at that comment, but I was 7 at the time, so I couldn't really handle a fishing rod, so I didn't know what was going to happen today. About 5 minutes after we had finished eating breakfast we were down at the dock getting ready to cast out our lines."On the count of 3" my dad said,"1,2,3" he shouted and he cast out. We had all casted out after that, but before I could cast out my fishing line, it went backwards behind me and I heard Jimbo's voice exclaim "Ouch". So I whipped around 180 degrees to see what happened and as I did that, the momentum of my fishing rod hit Dave, Dennis, Dad, Jimmie, and Stevie in the back of the head, and they toppled into the water like a row of dominoes. When I turned around, I saw my hook had made a gash all along Jimbo's forehead w/ the gooey red stuff flowing out like a cherry kool-aid river. After cousins, brothers, and father got out from their dip, they immediately see Jimbo's forehead, and agree that the fishing is cancelled until tomorrow. Jimbo got 10 stitches across his forehead and he cried while it happened, and he also cried when he got hit, so I can sometimes tease him about that. We did eventually go fishing the next day, but Jimbo decided not to go for his own safety of not getting hit with my deadly fishing rod. That day my fishing skills were tested and my clumsiness was also tested and I'm pretty sure I got a F on the test.

It's All Worth It by Owen Brady

I stood on the platform and groggily watched the rusty train pull into the Canton Junction Station. The bone-chilling, screeching sound of the train nearly bursts my ears. The ancient train comes down the track like a car using its last drops of gas. It comes to a stop and all of the commuters morph towards the two doors of the first car. I slowly walk up the harsh metal stairs, feeling the heavy weight of my colossal backpack trying to stop me from proceeding upward. I begin, what feels like my long journey to the first car of the train. I pass the usual people and then take in the atrocious smell from bathroom that lingers in the air. I pass by the fellow commuters I see everyday, and I make it to the section of the two, old, beat up seats where my friends are hunched over staring at their iPads, racing to get their last assignments finished before school begins. I tell Trevor, "Move over," but I already know what the answer is. "You jump over me, I'm not gonna move." I awkwardly hop over him and his huge heap of stuff to quietly sit next to him, "Happy?" The hard seat is cold, and the old leather is uncomfortable. I put my backpack on the ground and begin to make a checklist in my head of all of last night's assignments. We all start talking to each other about homework and other unimportant topics. I am exhausted from waking up so early for this daily routine. Personally, six thirty nine A.M is not my favorite time of day. When I talk, I can’t even recall what I just said. All of my thoughts, dreams, and words are scattered around in my head. I am going through the motions again and again. The rickety train ride jostles me as I sit, and I remember why I do this commute. I travel many miles a day so I can go to BC High. Being at BC High is worth our early mornings, even if we are exhausted. When we get to South Station, one of the commuters, a balding man with his coffee and unmistakeable goatee, does us a favor and lets us out through the conductor booth when he isn’t supposed to. As I step off the train, he tells us, "Study hard, do good." His last words to us are, "Soar!" So I do, I guess.

The Creation of a New Beginning by Ethan Harris

Cheerios. The little round object that would create an unbreakable bond between a boy and a dalmatian. It's the year 2000. I am one year old. I have been trying to create a friendship with my dad's dog Tressley since I first saw this dog. With no success, I was beginning to believe that it was impossible. Though this dog isn't aggressive, he just doesn't seem to care about me. Then, one day during breakfast, me being my klutzy self, dropped my Cheerios onto the ground. The split-second before the Cheerios hit the ground, Tressley had miraculously sensed that it was raining cereal and leaped up out of his bed and managed to get to my highchair right as they collided with the ground. While this spotty mammal is snatching up my cheerios, I am thinking to my self,Why is this dog eating my cheerios?! After my dad pries the dog from his delicacy, I finish the rest of my cheerios and exclaim,"All done!" to signal my dad to take me out of my chair. I have always dreaded highchairs; I find them an instant death trap. Once I am released from my imprisonment, I crawl straight to Tressley's bed, where he is laying, and make yet another attempt in creating a friendship. When I arrive at his bed, he barks,"Woof!" My mom noticed how close I was to the dog and said, "Careful, Ethan." She didn't understand what that bark meant. It was the ultimate signal.It was the sign that would tell me that he graciously accepted me, allowed me to cuddle with him, and even gave me a few licks. After that day, we had an unbreakable bond. I would give him Cheerios, he would love me and protect me. My parents would just sigh and say to each other,"Just let him love the dog." If we went for a walk or jog and a dog that he didn't know walked by, he would growl until the opposing dog was gone, as if I was his pup and he was there to protect me. Even as I look back on this day, I still find it remarkable that Cheerios created such a friendship.

I'm Shipping Up to Boston in Real Life by Kareem Hamada

I’m shipping up to Boston in real life! Shipping up to Boston is not only a song I listen to, it’s a tradition I look forward to. The song is my dad’s favorite and also mine. It all started after a drum recital where I had to play the drum part of the song. It was about Three years ago, I was eleven and I had been playing the drums for four years already. My drum teacher, at the Milton High School where I take my lessons, told me that my drum style fit that of the Dropkick Murphy’s and asked me if I had ever heard their song “ Shipping up to Boston”. I asked him to play it for me and he did so on his IPad. I loved it because the beat, the tempo and the speed fit my speed, tempo and beat in every song I play or like to play. The drum part of the song made my heart race and I asked him if I could play it for the recital and he smiled because he knew I would ask him that and of course he agreed that it was the right song for me. I was so nervous to play the song at first, it was very difficult to keep up with the rhythm of the drummer, but after intense practice l nailed it. I went to the recital with my mom, my dad and my grand mother. I was wearing a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt and I had my favorite drumsticks with me, they were black with red and orange flames painted on them, I call them my “lucky sticks”. On the recital program, John, my drum teacher, put my piece at number fourteen. Recitals usually start from easiest to hardest. I was the fourteenth performance out of eighteen. My family sat in the third row of the auditorium of the High School and it was starting to get pretty crowded. My mom, before I went to the first row to take my seat with the rest of the drummers told me “ Kareem, you know what you’re doing, I’ve heard you play this piece over and over ,you can play with the Dropkick Murphy’s even” I thought that was funny. My dad didn’t say anything he just squeezed my shoulder. I know what that means, my dad is always proud of what I do even when I don’t do it that well. I had butterflies in my stomach and my hands were a bit sweaty. I was nervous. When it was my turn to play, John announced my name and my song and people were clapping because they all loved the song, I could see my dad standing up and walking to the side aisle and pressing the record button on his I phone, recording me playing the song. I sat down and adjusted the drums and cymbals to my height and nodded to John. He started the music and …I nailed it. My drum teacher was very happy, he knew it was not an easy piece to learn. My mom and grandmother were clapping and my dad was still recording. He keeps replaying this song to everyone he sees and he calls shipping up to Boston “ our song” and ever since that day, we got hooked. Every fall, another tradition kicks in; it’s the season of the Celtics games. My day and four of his coworkers have shared season tickets so we get to go to quite a few games, maybe 6 or 7 games a season. On our way to the Celtics games, my dad and I blast the song on his car radio and we sing along without noticing what people seeing us from the outside might be thinking. In our Celtics Jerseys and caps, my dad and I dance, sing and drum in the car. I drum the beat of the song on the dashboard and my dad sings off tune of course. The car is roaring like a dinosaur. The car is all black from the inside with the blue neon lights from the radio and dashboard and the green of our Jerseys make us look like the Blue Man Group but in Green. People often smile at us and give us the thumbs up because they know we are rooting for the Celtics with a song that reminds them of the day when the Red Sox won the championship and “Shipping up to Boston” was the song that was played on the Duck boats during the Winners Parade in Boston. The song gave us great energy and enthusiasm and puts a person in a good mood. The song also puts us in a competitive mood very good for rooting for the Celtics. When I hear the song on my way to the game, I feel the Celtics will win and they usually do. When they win, the crowd of people with beer breath and popcorn covered shirts jump up and yell. I do too and usually I lose my voice the next day. When the Celtics lose, we just say that another time, another car ride and another chance will come accompanied by the Dropkick Murphy’s of course and “ Shipping up to Boston” along for the car ride.

Mr. Clutch by Timothy Keohane

“Lets go Pa!” my little cousin yells from the back of the 12-person bike we rented. We were spending the night at the boardwalk in Disney World. The plan was and what the Disney employees told us was to go to the end of the boardwalk and turn around and come back. My 7 other cousins ranging from 8-15 in age were sitting in the back. The oldest ones Patrick, Hannah, myself, Declan and my crazy Uncle Don all had pedals at our feet and controlled the speed of the bike. My grandfather who was 67 at the time was in the drivers seat and our fate was determined by his driving skills. From experience there have been some close calls while driving with my grandfather. For example, the time that we went swerving in and out of the parked cars at the Quirk Ford driving dealership. The last words we heard from our screaming mothers and the overprotective Disney employees was “Be Safe!” and we were off. We start pedaling immediately as fast as would could. After at least 5 minutes of us cruising down the boardwalk on a flat surface going the same direction my grandfather decides that we would take a little detour. My little brother Matty at the age of 6 asks not very politely, "Pa, what are you doing!" This does not surprise his son-in-law or any of his grandchildren. With our luck it just so happened that there was wedding in full swing going on down at the bottom of the hill. The strobe lights of the Disc-Jockey and the large white cake sitting just behind the see through tent really gave off the wedding vibe. As we start ripping up mounds of dirt trying to brake with our legs by reversing the way we were pedaling. It wasn’t enough so we decided to use our voices, which the Keohane family is very good at doing. We all were screaming, "watch out, lookout" occasionally a few words came out that I had no idea of what they meant at the time. This technique failed us due to the very loud music coming from beneath the large white tent. It was up to Pa our grandfather who for that night we called Mr. Clutch because his driving skills paid off right when we needed them too. At this point we are flying down this hill and nothing is working to stop us and we can barely make out Pa screaming, “Hold on kids!” Uncle Don reaches back and pushed us back into our seats to keep us safe. My oldest cousin was screaming like a new born as most if us start panicking. We do a complete fishtail and in the matter of seconds we are fully stopped and facing upward looking up at the hill that almost killed us. Nobody said a word for a few seconds then Pa turns slowly to face all of his grandchildren and says with a smile on his face “Anybody want to go round 2?” We all looked at him like he was an alien from a different planet and had to heads. We then got out and pushed the bike up to the top of the hill and popped it back on the trail like nothing happened. We arrived at the rental shop 30 minutes late with shock in our eyes and were fined a small fee. My grandfather gladly handed the lady extra money and told her again with an even bigger smile on her face “It is well worth it, thank you!”

Who am I? by Michael Silva

Who am I? I am Michael Silva. I have a God given gift of athletic ability. I am known around my community, my school, and partially across the country. In the past year my friend and teammate Blake Gallagher and I have become Massachusetts phenomenons. We have risen to the challenge of increasing division 1 scholarships given out in Massachusetts. We competed in an all American game in Texas, and that started a whole new exciting world that I wasn’t ready for. He’s ranked number 9, and I’m ranked number 6 in the country for eighth grade. And we’re from Massachusetts. Have you caught my point here? Researches have shown that 5% of all high school football players in New England get offered D1 scholarships. That’s roughly about 100-150 scholarships. When you look at the pipeline states, like Florida for example, there are over 45% of high school football players that get offered D1 scholarships. Pipeline states are the states that get the highest percentage of high school recruits in the country. We’re trying to increase the number of recruits up here in New England. I know that I’m on the verge of being something special. I also know that it can all come crashing down in the snap of my fingers. When I was a 1 year old little baby, and even before that, my brother Marquisse was what I am today. He had all the talent in the world. He attended a Penn State football camp when Joe Paterno was in his prime, and I sat on his lap! Marquisse accepted a full scholarship a bit closer to home up in Maine at the University of Maine. Then it happened. It was one thing after another till he eventually flunked out of school in his senior year. The main reason, drugs and partying. He got away from his books and it screwed him over. The grand finale happened two years ago. He was arrested and sentenced to 8 months in jail for drug possession. I don’t know how and why, but he is still my role model after all the years. I don’t know what my future holds. I set my standards high, and live up to the high expectations. Nobody can create my future but me. The only other person that could be able to do that other than my brother would be my father. He has been there every step of the way in my life. He is helping me through the recruiting process, and without him I would be a complete nobody. He put a football in my hands when I was born, and from that point on, he has lead me down the right path. As I get older, he continues to teach me how to be a man of character. Although we might fight a lot, I love him to death and can’t imagine life without him. One memory I have of both my father and brother being in my life is at my Super Bowl for my 8th grade football team. I remember the score at half being 8-8. My dad is my head coach and he's furious. We had expected to come into the game and have an easy win, but they had a game plan that slowed our high-powered offense down. While we were gathering as a team to talk about the second half game plan, Marquisse pulled me over. He looked around, then looked at me and said "You're not running how you should be! You need to just run with power like you usually do" These words all made it come together. I came out in the second half and went back to my regular ways of running where I would hit whatever got in my way. I could see my dad on the sideline smiling after the first play of the second half because he knew that I was back to my regular self. I attempted to stand up, and got pushed down from the dirty players on the other team. I felt the cold hard dirt in my face. It didn't bother me though, I just looked at him and said "you're gunna wish you didn't do that," and ran back to the huddle. I could smell the sweat of my teammates around me as they were patting me on the back saying good job. Then, my dad called me over to give me the play. I jogged over, and he gladly said " Finally, you're back to yourself! Let's go into wildcat and just run people over" "Okay, I can do that. We gotta get outside, they're just blitzing inside." "Ok then go right 59 Lexus on the line" I ran back to the field telling everybody to look at their wristbands as I yelled "Right 59 Lexus" I could her the crowd getting fired up, but more importantly I could hear my brother in the background yelling "lets go Mike!" I can still hear him now, telling me to keep going and keep pushing. He had his chance and made his mistakes, but he and my dad want me to become the man they have always envisioned in themselves.

Whitewater Rescue by Matthew Doyle

A few years ago my family took a trip to the White Mountains in New Hampshire when school got out for the summer. The cabin we rented was built on the slope of a mountain, alongside a river. During the summer the river current is usually pretty light, but because of all the snow that winter and a heavy rainstorm, the river was flowing really fast! Down the street from the cabin was our favorite swimming hole. We called it the swimming hole because it sits at the bottom of two waterfalls under a covered bridge. At the bottom of the waterfalls, the water formed a small round swimming area. The waterfalls were really flowing because of the heavy rains earlier in the week. My dad and I decide to look at the waterfall from under the bridge so we started to walk up the side of the river to the covered bridge. What started out as a fun adventure quickly took a turn for the worst. My Dad and I longed to see the top of the waterfall and all its beauty. The waterfalls were each about twenty feet in height and about ten feet wide. I said "hey dad, want to walk up to the top with me?""sure lets go and we can see what it looks like from the top.” We then started up the trail from where we were going along the riverbank upstream to the covered bridge. We walked to the top to see the river flowing under the bridge. I was looking at all the rocks in the water that glistened like stars and just thinking about how smooth they looked. I felt at peace walking up the river bank as though I was leaving society and all troubles behind. The air smelled clean and crisp away from the city. My dad was about 25 yards ahead of me when I took a wrong step onto a slippery moss covered rock next to the river. I lost my balance and tumbled into the rushing water. As I was carried down the river by an unstoppable force of flowing water I heard the roar of the falls as the drop was approaching. At that moment, my sense of peace and tranquility washed down the river and over the falls ahead of me and was replaced by fear. I knew the rocks at the bottom of both falls would severely hurt me so I tried to fight the current. My dad heard me scream, “help” and turned around. He ran and dove right into the river. Then he started to swim downstream to me with the current helping to give him speed. The drop was coming up and I had about 15 feet between me and the ledge. I started to try to touch the ground hoping that I could slow myself down. Even with all my efforts it was hopeless to slow down as the current got stronger and the water even deeper as I approached the falls. My dad caught up to me and grabbed me by my arm. The waterfall was only 5 feet away so he flung me over his shoulder and onto the sand bank. Then he was able to grab onto a large rock near the falls and pull himself onto it, then laid there on the sandy bank, just shocked! He then managed to make his way over to the bank from the rock and then trudged through the sand to me. When he came over to me, he laid next to me out of breath for a little while. Then he said "are you ok?" I responded “yes", but it was hard to tell because I was shaking. Lying there teeth chattering, just trying to comprehend what just happened. Some others came over to see if we were ok so I sat up and said to them, Yeah, I just fell in but my dad got me out before anything really bad could happen." I had some cuts and bruises from the rocks but I’d be ok by the end of the day. I looked back at the rushing water as it poured over the falls and realized just how lucky I was. I could have easily been badly hurt or worse! I realized how much I needed my dad to keep me safe. I guess that at that age, I may not have been the best judge of what is safe and what isn’t. It is a great feeling knowing my dad is watching out for me to keep me safe. This was an unplanned adventure that I will never forget and I will always be extra careful around rivers and waterfalls.

The Frog Pond Massacre by Joe Dargon

Christmas Eve; a time of excitement and our fun-filled annual trip to The Frog Pond. It is a pond in Boston during the summer, but it freezes and makes a perfect skating area. I am so excited while we walk through the park. Jack is also excited but he was at that age when you hate your younger siblings; your first year as a teen, 13 that is. It was a chilly night, my lips clang together like a nutcracker. My blood rushes throughout my 9 year old body as we draw closer; hoping I don't embarrass myself as I skate. Jack says,"Hey, I bet ya I'm not gonna fall today." "Fine 10 bucks then." Another dumb bet by me. Jack is a cheetah on ice, but has the balance of a gymnast on the beam. As we walk through the park, the white snow plummets off the trees and lands on the ground. I get skittish as we wait in line. I examine the frozen pond and the young couples; the boy always seems annoyed when the girl looks like a cat in the water. That's not a good sight. When it is our turn to pay, as usual says I am younger than 6 to save some hard earned green paper. We run to a wooden bench, they're so old you can see pieces of the wood sticking out, pointy as knives. I tie my skates so tight that I can see the tongues flap over the strings. My brother and I have our own skates since we played hockey, but my dad gets 3 girls' skates from a run down shack where they are sold for my sisters. Jack and I have always been very close to each other. As in every older brother, younger brother relationship though, the younger one gets beat up, and forced to do things they don't want; of course that kid is me. We don't get into many fights though, but he still pounces on me and I attempt to fight back. Jack has short hair, gets curly when it grows. He isn't too tall, but he is very tough and stronger than he looks. Jack is sensitive, so like every immature kid, I talk bad to him and it never pays off. I do this because I and many other 9 year old boys have no common sense and don't know when we have gone too far and do too much. Jack and I race onto the ice and fly past the young couples struggling as usual. I only hear kids screeching as they hit the ice, skates slamming against the ice, and the annoying Christmas carols in the park. The fresh aroma of sweet Italian food runs through my nose. My brother spots this guy; dancing like a ballerina on ice; he was totally embarrassing himself. He was pretty tall, lanky, and extra tight skinny jeans a furry, white jacket. He wears these small headphones, playing classical figure skating music. My brother told me to start following him, so we did. My brother forces me to to copy the man; I cant say no because I was afraid of him like all little brothers. He just told me to do it and since I don't want to get beat up, I do it. We copy all of his spins and other moves while we are right behind him; he doesn't even notice. He does a jumping spin; my brother does the same thing, and he stops short. Crash! My brother hits the manMy brother's face is priceless. His eyes are closed and he covers his face as he tumbles to the ice. Jack yells, "Oh crab apples! Joe, help me up! Lets get out of here!" We skate our hearts out, my heart is pounding so fast I can't breathe. We skate through the crowd; avoiding the fellow skaters as they look at us in complete terror. We race off the ice and run towards my dad and mom; who wait on the bench for a short break; it was a war zone out there. We elude behind them; making sure the man won't see us as he looks around for us. My dad looks suspicious; looking around for the  victim of our accidents. My dad says, "Jack, what is going on?" Of course he says,"I don't know what your talking about." The cold air has reached inside me and ripped out my lungs; I can't catch my breathe as I try to talk to my dad. I never fell that day, and of course Jack toppled on that man; I never got my 10 dollars.

Delinquent Brother by Eric Dang

It was the night after another great day at Las Vegas, and I was at the pool in the back of the hotel with my brother. I didn't know how to swim yet, as i was only eight at the time, so I wading around in shallow waters. My unwanted and slightly hefty brother, Dennis was also in the near freezing water under a waterfall; he was staring at the immense diving board looming over the water. He was put into a trance as he sat staring at the boards metal frame, and after what had seemed like ages his chubby head turned and he said,"I bet you can't jump off that thing!" From hearing those words I cringed in fear, fear of both the death drop and the world of humiliation I would be in if I didn't jump. I scaled each choice I could make and finally decided I would try my luck with the board. I slowly walked towards the steep metal stand, dragging my feet trying to make the short trip to the ladder as long as possible. I finally reached the rungs of the ladder and took a deep breath; I built up what little courage I could possibly muster and grabbed hold of the first rung. I took notice of how cold the rung was, it felt like ice in my miniature hand, but I had to ignore it and began to climb. Bit by bit the noodles, rafts, and beach balls below me became smaller and smaller until finally I was at the top and the objects looked like the size of playing cards. I looked down from the high ledge and immediately my body froze, I felt the hairs on my neck heighten like the quills on a porcupine and I looked away. After the first look I knew I wasn't going to jump. I stood up and said,"I can't do this.", but I hadn't noticed my brother climbing up behind me, so when I turned around he sprang forward like a fox pouncing on a mouse and kicked me square in the gut; I flew back as the wind was knocked right out of me and my small body descended. I felt the time slow as I fell like a baby bird falling out of its nest, but I couldn't move my body. My brother became smaller and smaller as I was pushed down by gravity until... Splash! My back crashed into the cold surface of the water and it felt like I had hit a metal slab. I began to drown and inhale chlorinated water as I flailed fearing for my life. "Help!" I screamed as I began to lose consciousness from the lack of oxygen and began fade away, but then I heard another splash. A larger figure grabbed me and began pushing me towards the surface and shallow end; it was my dad he had heard my cry for help, ran out, saw my brother commit the crime, and dashed to my rescue. For the next few weeks my brother would be in his room doing nothing because of his "immature and foolish attempt to kill his brother."

The Day I Realized We Aren't the Only Smart Ones by Gaetano Ragusa

The Day I Realized we aren't the only Smart Ones One frigid, April morning, I awoke to the sound of my mother and father talking quietly. I'm not a very deep sleeper. As I stared out of our 3rd floor hotel window at the parking lot full of different makes of cars, we prepared to go to the Smithsonian National Zoo. As one of our final days in D.C, we saved the best activities for last. The reason we were in Washington D.C was because my mother was there for a math teacher's convention. The year is 2009, and I was in the Fourth Grade. It was one of those days where it started out warm and sunny and turned cold and cloudy. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and so was my father. My sister was wearing jeans. While my mother attended her convention, we set out for the Zoo. The size of the Zoo amazed me. It was at least twice the size of the one here in Boston, and had twice the number of animals too. The animals there fascinated me to such a great extent that I forgot I was cold. The huge, rust-colored elephants and the majestic, amber colored lion were just the beginning. I remember that I was trying to get a picture of the lion while it was roaring, and it took me almost ten minutes to get the perfect shot. Then there was the dwarfish baby gorilla with its mother covering its ears, trying to keep out the ruckus of the room. The noise in the room was as loud as a jet whizzing down a runway, gaining speed for takeoff. The students in that room were the loudest in the world. They were running around, jumping on each other, and complaining to their teachers. There were at least five school groups, with every single kid yelling at the top of their lungs. Some of the screams I could make out were "It's so cute!" And "Mommy, can I get one?". The only quiet people in the room were the three of us. "Can you pick me up so I can see?", I asked my father. As my father picked me up to see over the crowd, I saw the baby gorilla and felt bad for it and its mother. They needed to stand up to all of this noise EVERY DAY. I was there five minutes and I was sick of the noise after the first two. It also showed me just how smart these animals were. The mother knew what to do and sacrificed its own hearing for its baby's. This amazed me. I knew that gorillas and chimpanzees were smart, but I didn't know they knew about sacrifice and were this caring. This memory sticks in my mind because it shows that some animals are just as smart as humans. Nothing else I saw that day compared to the gorillas. These memories of exotic, intelligent, and magnificent animals linger in my mind as fresh as they were the day they happened, even though they happened almost four years ago.

A Brutal Awakening on the Lake by Teddy Carnes

It was an average, hot summer day on Lake Winnipesaukee. I woke up sweating so much it looked like I had just run a marathon. Our air conditioning system was broken and my whole family was dying from the heat. Even with a good twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep, I was exhausted. I rolled out of my bed as if in slow motion and planted my feet firmly on the ground. I tried to hoist myself up, but suddenly my whole world started spinning; I was very dizzy. I came crashing back down on the bed with a loud thud for the solid memory foam mattress did not give in to my sturdy one hundred thirty pound body mass. I tried standing up once again and, this time, was successful. I trudged sleepily over towards my dresser and rummaged through the bottom drawer scavenging for the first bathing suit I could find. I hurled items of clothing left and right until I found what I was looking for. It was my favorite bathing suit; royal blue with white tropical flowers covering it. When I finished putting it on, I moped while descending down the rickety stairs, out the back door and onto the beach. The peacefulness and solitude was stunning. I could hear birds chirping in the distance and the occasional sound of motorboats zipping through the water. For miles and miles, all I could see was crystal blue water, gently rippling waves from the wakes of passing boats, and a bright yellow sun towering over it all. I could feel my feet slowly sinking into the millions of warm grains of sand beneath me. No one else in my family was up yet so I was all alone. I embraced the solitude and slowly laid back into the sand. I stared up at an endless bright blue sky. There were no clouds in the sky that day, which made the sky look empty, and even bigger. I felt like I was on top of the world. Suddenly, I heard a bustling noise coming from behind me and before I could get up and turn around my two younger sisters had surrounded me yelling “Teddy, Teddy, Teddy, come on get up!” I was trapped, and there was no way out. I now knew that my five minutes of peacefulness and silence was over. Now I became scared; I could see my dad running down from the house towards me yelling like a wild Indian charging into battle. He scooped me up under the arms, threw me over his shoulder, and sprinted ten yards towards the water. Every step he took hurt because I received a pounding shoulder into my stomach. I braced myself knowing what was about to happen. I was heaved into the icy cold water and plunged deep beneath the surface. I was paralyzed by the frozen water and stayed under the surface until I gathered enough strength the get back up. With a mighty kick my head popped out and I shivered. My teeth clattered like tap shoes of a solid wood floor and my arms shook viciously. I screamed at him in an angry tone, "What was that for! I was minding my own business, why'd you have to come ruin it for me!" He said, "Teddy, come on, I'm just having a little fun with ya." "Don't," I said, and turned my back for a second and wiped the frigid, clear drops of water off my chattering face. Out of nowhere I was struck once again by what felt like a truck and went plunging into the water again. My dad had decided he wanted a second go at me. The peacefulness of morning has now been replaced by the simple joy of enjoying the chaos of my family. I decided to join them in the family fun, knowing that staying grumpy would ruin the fun of the morning. After being doused in the water for a second time, I came up laughing with a huge smile on my face. I glanced at my dad and saw him staring right back at me with his deep dark brown eyes. I knew that I could not stay mad at him. We waded through the heavy water to the shore, snatched up our towels, and headed inside. After I was all dried off, I went back up to my room and laid down on the warm dry bed. I thought about the strange morning I had just had. The mood had changed from peaceful to chaotic in a matter of seconds. It was not the most normal morning I had ever had, but it was time I was able to spend it with my family, which made it all worthwhile.

The One That Got Away by James Sexton

It was a cold windy day in Martha's Vineyard and I could almost taste the salt from the ocean. My Dad and I went down to the dock hoping to catch dinner. We were the only ones at the whole dock, and I was glad because I didn't get to spend too much time with just my dad. " Whats the biggest fish you have ever caught here dad " I said. " Well one time when I was here with my dad we caught a 39 inch striped bass, it was a great day that I will never forget" He says. It was the first cast of the day and after only five casts I caught a fish. It wasn't a big fish and it sure wasn't big enough to eat for dinner. As soon as I touched the small little fish it slipped out of my hands because it was so slimy. My dad then said to me "Put it on the big rod and try to catch something bigger." At the time I didn't fully understand what he meant by bigger. I thought he meant a bigger fish than the one we already caught, little did I know that I would later catch the biggest sea creature of my life. My dad hooked the small fish onto the big rod and then casted it very far out into the ocean. After waiting about ten minutes I finally got a giant bite. As soon as it happened I screamed to my dad to come over and help me. He ran over and helped me rail in the beast, it was like we were feathers and it was a brick. It took us almost twenty minutes just to rail it in. When it was close to the dock and we were sure it was something huge. My dad and I pulled it up to the dock. Then I looked down at the water to only see the jaws of a giant six foot long brown shark. As soon as I saw those jaws I screamed " It's jaws.... Ahhhhhhhhhhh " at the top of my lungs. Then just like that the line snapped, and the shark was gone. " Nooooooooooo, that was the greatest fight I have ever had in my life" my dad said. It was like the line was a runner and it ran as fast as it could away from my dad and I. We were very upset, but after we realized that we almost just caught a six foot shark we were happy. We both laughed and talked about how great of a fight it was. Until this day I will never step foot into the water at Martha's Vineyard because I know that shark is still out there.

My First, But Not Last Snow Day by Griffin Bast

The snow sparkled like a carpet of fine glass as the sun shone upon it. It was a chilly 30 degrees outside. All of the vegetation was covered in a fine white powder that decorated them to look like spectral beings in the early morning mist. It was the first snow all year and it was beautiful. I was suddenly hit by the realization that I had no school today! The next half hour or so was occupied by everyone intensely watching the news to confirm that there was no school. There was great rejoicing, great rejoicing I say, when the title "Scituate public schools closed" rolled across the screen. My family of sisters and parents rushed to get on our snow clothes and run out into the brisk air. The rest of the morning was filled with gleeful shouts of "haha gotcha!" or" oh that was close!" as my family pelted each other with snowballs or made snow forts. After a lunch of hot chocolate and buttery popcorn we decided to go sledding at the Scituate High School. The hill there was huge and amazing speeds are a guarantee. Shouts of "Woo-hoo!" and "Wow that was fast!" rolled across the hills. After multiple consecutive face plants and one of our tubes popping, we decided to go home. When we finally got back home around 5:00 our faces were red as tomatoes. Our fantastic day ended with a movie by the fire. We went to bed with a sense of fulfillment and accomplishment.My First, but not Last, Snow Day The snow sparkled like a carpet of fine glass as the sun shone upon it. It was a chilly 30 degrees outside. All of the vegetation was covered in a fine white powder that decorated them to look like spectral beings in the early morning mist. It was the first snow all year and it was beautiful. I was suddenly hit by the realization that I had no school today! The next half hour or so was occupied by everyone intensely watching the news to confirm that there was no school. There was great rejoicing, great rejoicing I say, when the title "Scituate public schools closed" rolled across the screen. My family of sisters and parents rushed to get on our snow clothes and run out into the brisk air. The rest of the morning was filled with gleeful shouts of "haha gotcha!" or" oh that was close!" as my family pelted each other with snowballs or made snow forts. After a lunch of hot chocolate and buttery popcorn we decided to go sledding at the Scituate High School. The hill there was huge and amazing speeds are a guarantee. Shouts of "Woo-hoo!" and "Wow that was fast!" rolled across the hills. After multiple consecutive face plants and one of our tubes popping, we decided to go home. When we finally got back home around 5:00 our faces were red as tomatoes. Our fantastic day ended with a movie by the fire. We went to bed with a sense of fulfillment and accomplishment.

Disney Land: Land of the Lost by Tyler Dionne

In 2005, I returned to Disneyland, the happiest place on earth. It was the first time I've been there that I actually remember. Around 8:30 p.m., my aunt Mae and aunt Margret, sister, grandma, and I were about to leave when my sister claimed see was so thirsty that see could drink an entire ocean. So, my aunt Mae and grandma went with my sister to one of the many Disney themed restaurants to get a drink. Outside, the delicious aroma of the fries and burgers entered my nose. After they went in, my aunt Margret had the great idea to leave the front of the restaurants, where they could of found us in 20 seconds or less, and move to the front of the park, a good 100 feet away so it would be easier to leave the park when they found us. The best part of the plan was that my aunt didn't let my other aunt or grandma know that we were leaving. So when we were in the front of the park, my aunt Margret was franticly calling my grandma to tell them where we were, and I was put on look out duty for my other family members, which was practically impossible due to it being pitch black, like a room with no possible way o escape, and there were thousands of people leaving the park, as it was time for it to go to sleep. While I was looking for them, something in my head told me, Look behind you." When I turned around, there was a direct line of nothingness, and illuminated by the street light was my grandma on her phone, surrounded by sister and aunt Mae. Somehow, I was able to hear them talking to my aunt over the hundreds of conversations that surrounded me. I was able to hear my grandma say," Where are you? Do you have Tyler?". Next to me my aunt said," We're by the front of the park, Tyler's with me. He's fine." After a hour of looking, my family was behind us the whole entire time! I grabbed my aunt's arm, and dragged her to my other families members. While everyone was happy to find each other, I was so annoyed and irritated that my family was so close and we didn't notice them for an entire hour that I didn't even care what was happening. While we were driving away, I gave my ridiculous aunts and grandma the evil eye as we returned to my grandma's house, angered by the fact that they ruined our otherwise great day with a dumb decision that left us confused, scared and worried.

One Strange Winter Day by Myles Owens

My brother hid my sled under the porch outside and flipped it over so the white part was blending in with the snow. The board was as white as the snow. After I got my board, my brother and cousins said, "We're cold and want to go inside for some warm tea." I said to them, "Leme go one time" they all said "okay" and when I turned around to fix my sled they were gone. At first I thought they were trying to ditch me but while getting on to the sled I saw a muscular, big headed dog starring directly at my face. I was absolutely scared our of my mind when I noticed him. The way that the dog looked like he weighed twice as much as I did. He had sharp teeth and a triangle shaped head and when I looked at him his ears were sticking up straight. His black fur made him stand out in the snow. I could see the wetness on his nose because he was so close to my face. I didn't move while he was starring at me. I slowly got up and he started barking directly at me. Then I started to run as fast as I can but my little legs and the foot of snow slowed me down. While I was running away I could barely hear the dog coming behind me because the barking hurt my ears. It felt like blood was dripping from my ears but it was the snow form the wind. My ears were ringing as I ran to my garage. Before I could get to the garage the dog jumped on my back and I fell face first into the snow. I looked up but could not see anything because there was snow on my face; I turned and saw my brother and cousins looking at me scared out of their mind. I could still feel the dogs paws on my back but when he was very close to biting me until I heard the owner yelling at the dog to stop. My parents finally came out and the owner talked to them and they took me inside to warm up. While taking my snow cloths off I recognized a rip in my pants from the dog. I could not feel it but the dog bit me, it was hard to understand how could not feel it. For the rest of the day we talked about how my cousins and brother were scared out of their minds.

Is It Worth My Money? by John Zammito

Is it worth my money As I was waiting in my driveway off our rental cottage I was looking at the old shingles with barely any paint on them and thinking of how they slowly over time became bare of their rich brown color. When I finally came back to the world after being spaced out for about a solid ten minutes and I said to my mom “I am pumped”. I remembered that I was waiting for my new boat to come. My heart started racing faster than a cheetah running full speed. Earlier that day I finally convinced my mom to let me buy a row boat that I had seen on a main road for the past week that had my name written all over it. I was very excited as I was waiting for the old man to arrive with my old dull colored blue and silver boat on my rusty old trailer. As I quickly after having another 30 second zone out I realized that my eye was starting to burn because of the sun rays beaming off of the blue Sienna caravan that I was facing about 3 feet in front of me. After coming back to the real world once again I waited for the faint rumble of an old truck coming down sawyer lake road. Once I first heard the bald tires squeaking on the nicely paved road I jumped out of my skin; the boat was here. As this old man with 7 1-2 teeth came out of his old truck I ran to the boat. It was finally here on a cinderblock that his son that accompanied him to help with the physical part of the delivery put the head of the trailer on, I was as pumped as a basketball and as worried as a soldier with no ammo in the middle of a firefight at the same time. This boat played tricks on my eyes at first sight because I thought that I bought a row boat but ended up being left with a speed boat. My mom had, John this man is taking the boat back, written all over her face but thankfully the man was quick to come back with an extended hand and the faint words of “hello, my name is John Flynt, and you are”? My mom slowly but surely came back with “hello, I am Kathleen nice to meet you.” They started talking and my mom told Mr. Flynt how I said to my mom that the boat was a row boat and that I could row it by myself. When she saw the massive size of this boat she thought that I would need a motor worth thousands of dollars but when she asked he said that a trolling motor would do the trick. As he pulled away in his old squeaky red truck my mom said “you are lucky” and we were off to Wal-Mart to buy a trolling motor.

Untitled by Joseph Gallagher

Inside the density of my family and the home furniture and the members of my family, both relatives and ones that live in the same house as me, going in and out of the house, walking past me in the hallway, during a party or barbecue with a lot of grown ups, I sat. I sat in front of what looked like to an outsider a regular cheap tv with broken buttons, sitting atop a wooden shelf. But to me it was a screen that allowed my vision to perceive what was going on in this world made by not a God, but a humble, artistic man. And the wooden wooden was a high tech gate of science fiction. Upon said intergalactic machine capable of transporting me to the imaginations of others, my Nintendo Gamecube I got for my birthday was hooked up, basically the engine of allowing me to go into these far off lands. To an outsider again, it would look like I was just playing Super Mario Sunshine. But to me, and my juvenile, young, curious, and naive mind, I was Mario. I was Mario shooting water and doing acrobats in this world in peril that was so real to me, yet so fake to others. Even my sense of reality was satisfied that this world was real because I can control what I do in it and how I live. And such outlet of art is why I want to be a game designer when I grow up. But what puzzles me is that some people while playing these "games" (I hate to call them that since people underestimate them because of the Atari and their primitive console) they don't get the same feeling. It saddens me because it shows that these people look into a good game with the critical mindset that it is a game. I mean, people try to cultivate culture purely around books, saying that it takes you to far away places, but games do this more efficiently because instead of following someone else's story, you WERE the main character, and YOU can find your own way through the conflict with your own ambitions. You don't have to listen on a dreading and overly-long two chapters on some wimp just saying how much he sucks because he's too scared to follow the obstacles written out for him, while you're just reading and shouting at the wimp to just tell the teacher about the bully, or if it's a life and death situation, that whatever you do you have to strive for the best so if you do die, you die with dignity. Even if you die, oh well. It's not like anybody's gonna hate you after you've been killed. And my imagination is so lively enough that the author doesn't need to describe in 90 about what the tree bark looked, smelled, and tasted as you walked by it. You need to supply adjectives but not a whole encyclopedia article about it. In games, you have to add detail to them to provide atmosphere because just replacing the graphic of a mountain with a paragraph describing the mountain is not necessary since it takes so long too read about a view and take it in. It's always more magical to see and take in the beauty of the view atop the Eiffel Tower than just read 4 pages about it. So this point in my childhood in which I have a full access into a world of imagination and it just blew my mind. Finally I can react to obstacles in a story and perform what I would do as a main character instead of watching (in the sense of movies and TV shows) or reading (in the sense of books) someone else having all the fun, and more likely, someone not going on the quest with a likable attitude. An example of how I felt as a kid playing Donkey Kong Country is just the atmosphere of the game, and how much of a good job the art designers, composers, and level designers did on making the world you're exploring as Donkey or Diddy Kong as real and as beautiful as it can be. For example, when you're swimming in the ocean, you're surrounded by maroon colored rocks like the ones you would commonly see somewhere in the bahamas, with contrasting colors being the coral. As you ascend in the water the landscape in the background moves and diagonally rotates upwards,making the surface of the water as shown from underwater getting closer and closer to where you're coming out, making the camera look like its coming out of the water and into the sky as your head peeks out into the surface. And depending on what time the world takes place, the level colors can be vibrant in the sunlight, as if on a sunny day in Hawaii. Or they could be slightly dimmed but peaking a color of orange and dark blue in some places like you're swimming in the sunset. Not to mention the fish moving in patterns natural to how they move in real life, the ridges in the sand underwater, and how the level's graphics a have a vibrating effect giving the feel that the camera is underwater, and the ripples of the water being reflected onto the ocean floor and rocks. Oh, and the ambient, slow moving, relaxing, well composed, electronic music being played also adds to the nostalgic feel that it already has. It reminds me of when I was a kid swimming in my backyard pool, with the ripples of the water being shone on the pool floor, and at night when my spotlight thingy next to my house lights up against the pool, making the area it shines on all clear as crystal as the rest of the pool is dark blue into the aforementioned mysterious dusk. It also reminds me of the comfort I felt playing Sonic 2 in my cousins's playroom, air conditioned while the night was hot outside, and random lights from the TV I was using, the other room, and light from lamps being shone on toys scattered around, like magnetic trains. And then to the side of all of those, I was walking amongst some place I never seen before in real life, but have imagined it in my head too many times. Going on an adventure and being a nomad that you, as a weak but smart human being, were meant to do in this cruel, which explains why death is so frequent in video games, but beautiful and magical world to be thankful for. In the real world have of what was roaming in my imagination existed in Massachusetts, and there were beings like dogs that were stronger than me, and bad people like kidnappers that gave me great paranoia and fear to go out in the world. All I could do was just imagine what it was like. But here with this high tech machine I can visualize and actually live out and control myself in this world of art and product of the human mind.

Defying Death by Ryan Kowilcik

"Gunny out of the hole!" Yelled my cousin. It was a warm and sunny afternoon at my cousin's pond. My brother, cousin, and I were doing our normal afternoon routine by going out tubing on my cousin Sean's pond. Just this time we decided to switch things up a bit; considering our normal tubing routine was beginning to get ancient, or sub par as I would call it. This time, I came up with the brilliant, yet idiotic plan to ride one person behind another, instead of riding side by side. On the boat, my uncle ranted in confusion from the steering wheel, "What are you guys doing?" My cousin replied, "Nothing much.....just whatever you do please don't kill us." I heard my uncle murmur something then slowly start shaking his head back and forth with a smirk on his face. That is when I caught the message that today was the day that I would die. Before I even had time to contemplate what I wanted my will to say, my cousin, who obviously did not catch the message that we were about to be violently massacred, yelled the famous phrase, "Gunny out of the hole!" This phrase meant, "open the throttle up, and punch it as fast as you can out of the stationary position the tube was floating in." Within a split second our graceful, peaceful, no harm guaranteed tube was jerked so hard that I could have sworn that my hands separated from my arms. As we were sent rocketing across the water at a speed of 60 mph my initial thought of, "Yo... This is gonna be off the hook!" quickly turned to, "Oh crap, I am really in for a world of hurt." As I choked on the musky thick exhaust that the boat was spitting out after our aquatic drag start, we made our second risky turn, and our tube nearly turned head over heels due to the unevenness of our weight. " Jamie! Sean!" I yelled over the roaring motor. "If Sean sits in front, and Jamie sits in the middle, and you both and lean to the same side as we are turning there will be just enough weight in the back from me leaning to the opposite side that we were turning." " You sure this is gonna work?" Yelled Jamie. "No!" I yelled, "but we're about to find out on this next turn." " We lived!" yelled Sean after we survived the turn, "this riding style may actually work!" In a matter of minutes we were riding like pros. We managed to successfully take every turn with our newly developed tactic. After about ten minutes of riding, my uncle started to get frazzled because he could not shake us. This time we all caught the same message that my uncle way getting annoyed because we all felt it. My uncle soon started to take quick, sharp, and thrashing turns, that forced us to all hold on with all our might. At some points one of us would be sent flying and the others would struggle to pull him up onto the tube before we would be sent into another forceful turn. Although my uncle's ideas for dumping us into the water were very clever, our boss riding tactic was unbeatable. We all noticed that my uncle began to look like he was defeated, by the way he kept slamming his fist on the side of the boat after a failed attempt at dumping us. Then, to all of our amazement my uncle put the boat in neutral and turned around to face us. "You win." He said in a defeated tone. Following my uncle's white flag, a burst of laughter and high fives arose from our tube as we stood up on it and began to parade around. But then, as we were parading around on the tube, my uncle pulled a bit of some reverse psychiatry on us. He soon slowly started to pick up speed as we were dancing on the tube. I looked at my uncle, and once again a shot me a devious smirk. "IT WAS ALL A TRICK!!!" I yelled. "Quick sit down!" It was true my uncle had planned it all along, he made it look like he was defeated but was pretending the whole time. Before I was able to tell him at how good he was at acting, and he might want to consider an acting career, our leisure float that was filled with laughs, and thoughts of " this ended well," turned into a ride full of screams and thoughts of how bad it is going to hurt when our bodies, doing 60 mph, hit the concrete water. The boat kept accelerating to a point where we could barely see in front of us because the water from the motor was now spewing up and into our faces; every time we survived a set of waves our uncle seemed to run into another set, forcing a massive wave up and over the tube, and then violently crashing down on us like a big, wet, cold blanket. After the second gut-wrenching turn, my cousin, barely audible over the boat's engine yelled, "Ok so on the next straight away we bail! If we don't we all die!" Jamie and I agreed with Sean, but just as we subsisted the turn and was about to hit the straight away where we were going to bail, my uncle had a bit of a treat in store for us. Immediately after finishing a turn my uncle quickly jerked the wheel to the other side forcing another turn, yet this time the turn would be generously bundled with twice as much force than the last turn. This was made possible because as we slowly came to a stop on the tube after the turn, the boat started to turn the other way, therefore leaving no tension in the rope so that the tube slowed down. This was done because my uncle knew that when he started to accelerate, and the boat finally hit top speed, the tube would be sent flying around the turn at unimaginable speeds. So, as we slowly watched the tension in the rope become greater, we all shared the same feeling of anticipation. "crack!" The rope tightened, and we catapulted around the turn. The force and speed inflicted on our little tube was was ridiculously outrageous, and it was impossible to hold on. As we quickly looked at each other sharing the expression of " this is the end", and "it has been a good life" all three of us were sent hurdling into the water with outrageous force. The last thing I remembered was me slamming into something rock solid, which turned out to be Jamie's back, before I went head first into the cold, wavy, white water that was being churned up by the boat. I surfaced to the top of the water in pain that was easily able to be laughed off, but not enough to give me the energy to climb back into the boat. I looked around at Jamie and Sean and they both gave me the thumbs up that they were ok, and I gave them one back. As my uncle's boat slowly glided over to us he asked, "anyone want to go again?" All three of us groaned and said, "I'm good." Considering none of us had enough energy to get back into the boat, we began our slow and sore swim to shore.

Head Ache by Sean Feehily

My dad and I went with my friend on a skiing trip to Loon mountain, which for my dad was all about falling. Every time I see a ski helmet it reminds me of this trip. I have two specific parts of this trip are connected to a ski helmets. One is when my father slammed his head on a chairlift. On this cold crispy morning we were all on our way up the chair lift to the top of Loon. I turned to my dad and said, "I can't believe you don't have a helmet." He replied in a sarcastic voice, "I'll be fine". This was a long and cool ride to the top of the mountain and it was getting frigid as we got higher. As we were getting off the chair lift, we all stumbled. My snowboard clipped my dad as it slashed his skis. Wham! His head got whacked by the chairlift, the cold, hard metal chair lift. The heavy metal that is freezing cold pounded his head into the ground. He crawled away from the chairlift unharmed and out into the open as I laughed under my breath. I asked my dad, "Are you ok?" Then we all started laughing, even my dad started laughing. We started to go down the hill, but my friend and I go down much faster than our dads. We joked about it on the way down the smooth yet icy slopes. We made fun of him saying, "That is why you always wear a helmet." Once we got down the long yet fast paced trip down the mountain, we headed up for another run. We made it through the chairlift unscathed this time and we were about to head down. We all turned around to see a kid who had been standing still, fall. He fell down a hill into the woods for no apparent reason. Once at the bottom of the hill, he began yelling and screaming for help. Luckily, unlike my father, this kid was wearing a helmet. I started laughing so much I could no even get my snowboard on. We were all shaking with laughter as this poor kid is stuck. As we were sitting there watching, his parents didn't even notice at first. They started to leave when they realized he was missing. They came back astonished to find him stuck in the trees, down a hill. He couldn't get out, which made me laugh harder. They helped him out, so we continued down the trial. We talked about how it was a pretty funny day with these two incidents involving ski helmets.

The Fun and Trouble with Friends by Ariyand Aminpour

The Fun and Troubles with Friends The sunshine glistened, the island life stirred with the heat, and a perfect summer day began. It was the time of summer when my family made their yearly trip to Nantucket. My brother and I woke, got on our bikes, and went to meet up with Navide's friend Evan. So the three of us were riding our bikes in town and I was on the badly made brick sidewalk full of hustling and bustling tourists on their way. I had to avoid them and swerved into the road where a black Jeep had to slam on the brakes on the bumpy, gray cobblestone road as I cut it off. The young guy honked and chased us down the street in his car as Navide and Evan yelled at him and making specific angered hand gestures because he almost hit me. We were all panting as we finished going as fast as cheetahs away from the huge black jeep coming after us. I caught up with Evan and Navide and said, "Did you see that? Can you believe that jerk!" Evan then shouted out so the same guy riding down the street would hear, "Yeah the guys a complete idiot!" So our goofy adventure started there as we made for the island's only high school. We got there and did tricks on our bikes on the ramps and jumps in the skate park. This was bad planning because I never thought that I was riding a mountain bike not a stunt bike. So as the three of us did tricks and stunts my blue, heavy Raleigh mountain bike started making squeaky noises and wobbled when I pedaled across the skate park which was as smooth and even as a frozen lake. I hopped off my bike to see what happened, and I had popped one of my tires and even worse it was the inner tube of the tire. Evan felt bad so he took me into the cold, new ice rink of the high school and bought me this strange looking pink Japanese soda that had looked strange at first but tasted amazing as the fizzy pink juice was inhaled by me. I was sure that gulping down the Japanese soda was like drinking a magic rainbow. Even though the ice rink was brand new the smell of feet and sweat filled my nostrils. There were black and white skates and pads piled lazily on top of one another on the shelves and in cold, gray lockers everywhere. We then left and I ran along pushing my bike as Evan led us to the closest bike shop to the high school that could fix it, and we ran hoping that they would still be open to get my bike a new tire. Though it turned out they were closed by the time we got there with their "sorry we're closed" sign hanging on the inside of the locked red wooden door. The two thoughts that ran through my mind as I read the sign was "This blows! How am I supposed to get home?!" Then we asked this complete stranger across the street if he had a pump so I could get home. We saw he was polishing and cleaning his turquoise pick-up truck with a clothe and we thought it wasn't that horrible of an idea and it was our only one too. We went up to him and my brother asked, "Excuse us, do you by any chance have a pump so that my brother can get home on his bike, Mister?" The generous man so nicely told us, "Yes of course, I have a pump in my garage for you guys." The man lent us his machine air pump that gave my tire enough air to get me back home to he inn and we were relieved when we got home o.k. When we got there we told my parents that I blew my tire on the horrendously rocky cobblestones on the bumpy ride back. I had to tell them this because if they knew I was fooling around and I popped it they would kill me and I would never hear the end of it. Then we got inside the small inn and got changed for dinner because we were going out in the humidity of the bright, lively night. When I changed I saw that my Vineyard Vines cotton blue underwear was ripped all around evenly like a hula skirt. Obviously I learned I should not go stunt biking again because my mountain bike and boxers were not made for it. After this day in the inn I thought about how great Evan and Navide were to me and that today told me if I was going to do something stupid again it would be with my two bros because they had my back and they were there for me. So we went on with our vacation and replaced my black, worn out, and old blown tire the next day in time for our six mile trip to Madaket Beach.

Why Not? by Chris Allan

Last summer, my family and I got two new puppies. We had decided on getting the puppies because ever since our old dog, Coco, died, we really missed having a family pet. It had only been about 2 months before our last dog died, but it felt like an eternity without having one. We needed a dog in our lives, so we all happily agreed to go get a new one. Originally we were going to only get one new dog, but getting one new dog quickly became getting two new dogs. My family and I were going to pick a pup from a breeder in New Hampshire. We had always had cocker spaniels in the past and we wanted the same type, so we went to this dog breeder because she specialized in cocker spaniels only. Driving up to New Hampshire was so exciting, I just couldn't wait until I had a new puppy(or even two). Me and my family were debating on what we should name it, so we came up with penny if we picked a girl, or buddy if we picked a boy. When we arrived at the breeders house, we were greeted by the breeder and about 12 adorable puppies to choose from. Picking sure was hard, because I wanted to take every one of them. My family and I felt so overwhelm by the amount of dogs. I looked around a bit and played with all of the puppies, but eventually I was getting attached to the smallest little dog of the group. He was small, he had brown fur, and he had bright blue eyes. We loved to lick my hand and he was running all over the place. I knew that this is the dog we should pick. My parents on the other hand had picked out a very hyper blonde puppy. She was almost as small as the dog I picked, but she was about three times as crazy. She was sprinting circles around us, she jumping all over the place, and she just loved to play. I could tell that my mom and dad loved this dog already because they had smiles on their faces as they watch the little dog run around with the rest of the group. "We are getting this one Christopher, that is final."-said my mom. "Instead of choosing, why don't we just get both of them?"-I said back. "Having two dogs is way too much responsibility, and twice as much training and work!"-my mom said. After arguing about it for a while, my dad decided to side with me and vote for getting both dogs. "I can't possibly choose between them both, and having two dogs will be a fun and new experience." Said my dad. "Fine, we will get both dogs." said Mom, "I admit it is going to be fun, and both of them are such sweet dogs, so why not?"

Death's Face by Ryan McIntyre

My cousin, Michael, and I thought that it was a good idea to ripstick shirtless and barefoot. Ripsticking is hard to some, but that is only the case if you do not practice. A ripstick is like a two wheeled skateboard that looks like two ovals joined together by a bar. You stand with one foot on either oval and wiggle to move. In a way, ripsticking is like dancing on a skateboard. With that clarified... Michael is the same age as me, but not quite as tall. He does crazy things all the time, so the decision to ripstick was an easy one for him. It started out fine, since we were on a flat road. We suddenly came around a corner and found ourselves at the bottom of a steep hill. "Let's go up." Michael said. "Sure." I responded fearlessly. Progress was slow going up the hill, but we knew it would be worth it. When we got to the top, we stopped, only to look around at our surroundings and then at each other. The day was warm and sunny. It was mid-summer and there was not a cloud in the sky. The sides of the road were being overtaken by trees with deep green leaves. We processed what we were about to do. "You sure you want to do this?" Michael said jokingly. "Nah, I'm too scared." I replied sarcastically. We both shared a laugh before I stated "Let's do this!" Michael took off down the hill first, so we would not crash. He zoomed by houses and roared by empty parked cars. My turn. I stepped up onto my ripstick and started wiggling to get moving. I thought that if something went wrong, this could possibly be my last ride. Once I broke over the lip of the hill, I picked up speed rapidly. I swerved back and forth, trying to pretend that I was out of control. That did not last long. My ripstick wiggled and jostled on its own accord, and it took all of my focus and skills to regain my balance. I looked up to find Michael, and I spotted him on a flat between the upper part of the hill, of which we started, and the lower part of the hill. "Shall we proceed?" My cousin said comically. "Of course, my good sir." I replied, matching his tone of voice. We had slowed down quite a bit, so we had to wiggle through the flat stretch. After what felt like an hour, we finally reached the second drop. Once we broke over the lip, I noticed two things. One, this hill was steeper than the last. Two, my ripstick was faster than Michael's, which is probably due to the fact that his was made for tricks and mine was the original one. Mine was like the Grandfather of the family, big, fast, and old, and his was like the reckless teenager, slow and young, but rebellious. I noticed the latter as I zoomed passed Michael, heading for a certain doom. I looked at the foot of the hill and noticed a cul-de-sac. It would be my only chance. I would have to slow down in the mere 20ft that the dead end offered. It was possible, but it would be hard. The wind whipped past me like I was outside in a blizzard. My wheels made a click-clack sound as I went over the cracks in the black, hot pavement. The ripstick vibrated under my feet, making them feel like jello. I reached the flat part and waited until the last second to veer to the left, riding the curve of the side of the road. My speed decreased greatly, calming my racing heartbeat. My cousin crept to a stop right next to me. "Fun, eh?" Michael exclaimed, oblivious to my near death incident. He looked at my face. "You look like you have seen a ghost." He said, seriously. "If only you knew." I muttered under my breath. This is what always happens when I am with him; Michael has a crazy idea, I almost get hurt because of it, and he is oblivious to my near injury. This time, I "looked in the face of death and took its mask off." (She Will Lil' Wayne)

The Dock by Michael Ball

I road my bike right onto the soft sand that lie in front of my cousins' melancholy old summer cottage. When I stepped off my bike the sand was as expected, extremely hot, and sent a burning sensation up my legs. It was a very hot day in the middle of August. I dropped my bike and helmet on the ground and ran up the two small steps leading to the front door. I walked inside the old cottage, the very stifling morning air still trapped inside. I walked to the bottom of the stairs and yelled to my dreary cousins still half asleep upstairs, "come on it's high tide." In a matter of seconds my cousins ran down the steep, creaky stairs, and before I knew it I was outside once again with my suddenly wide awake cousins at my side. We all grabbed towels that were draped over the backs of the many beach chairs stationed around the back deck. We then started walking toward the dock. Once again I got a burning sensation on the bottoms of my feet as I walked along the dark black pavement. The bottom of my feet felt like I was walking over the top of a hot frying pan. My cousins and I hurried our pace to reduce the burns on our feet, and soon arrived at the dock. When I got to the dock I looked at the bottom of my deeply pained feet, they were the same shade of red as a tomato. I didn't spend much more time thinking about my burned feet, and soon I found myself running down the ramp toward the dock. As I ran down the dock the old ramp wobbled below my feet. When I hit the dock I didn't stop there, I continued to run straight off the dock. For what seemed like an eternity I had a weightless feeling about my body. I then hit the water and my burned feet were immediately soothed by the cool water. As I plunged toward the bottom I opened my eyes and saw the dark brown mud that covered the bottom. I stayed on the bottom studying the mud for a little while. At first I thought I saw a huge lobster, but it turned out it was only part of an old, rusty, mangled lobster trap. Then I realized that my lungs were in great need of air. I gave my legs a very powerful kick, and then another, and another. After a few seconds of this I started to see light coming from the surface. Finally I broke the surface and took a deep breath of air. I was immediately struck by a huge, cold splash of water from my younger cousin's canon ball. An enormous amount of extremely salty water went into my mouth. I spit it out as fast as possible. When I got back to the dock I pulled myself out of the water and onto the dock. I yelled to my cousin, Daniel, who had splashed me, who was now running away, "Yah, you better run." I felt drops of water dripping off my body. I thought at that moment, what a shame my cousins have to leave in two days. My days of riding my bike down to their cottage everyday and having fun on the beach all day will be over. I look forward to the time every summer when my cousins come down from Medway, and live in Scituate for most of the month of August. I enjoy this time so much because even though I am the oldest cousin, the next cousins in line, Liam and Devin, are close to me in age, so it's always fun to hang around with them. Even though some of my other cousins like Daniel and Kyle are younger they don't seem that much younger because they are always hanging around with Liam, Devin, and I. Also there is my younger brother, Henry, who is always with us, and he is Kyle's age. The time in the summer when my cousins come down is so enjoyable because we all like the same things, and do so many fun things together. I didn't waste much more time thinking about this because I was suddenly shoved from behind, off the dock, by my cousin, but before he could get away I locked my hands to his forearm and pulled him in with me. After a few more jumps I was able to see the rocky bottom of the harbor through the crystal clear water. Since the tide was going out and the water was getting shallower, I decided it was probably best for us all to stop jumping. I said, "one more jump and then we are going back to the cottage." After our last jumps we raced up to our towels and threw them around our shoulders. We all started making the walk back to the cottage so we could start whatever fun activity was next on the list of things to do for the day.

Storming the Beaches by Max McCullom

It is a cold morning in mid July in Normandy, France. We pull up in a large parking lot and get out of the car, we are drenched by rain coming down sideways. I did not care though, anything was better then sitting in our cramped rental car, with the only leg room was littered with half eaten Cheetos and wrappers. The scent reminded me of a fire burning during the winter. I could hear waves crashing in the distance. I asked my dad where we were going and told him "it better be worth it". He replied solemnly saying "we are seeing ten thousand dead Americans". It took me a little bit to reply, but I finally said "what are you taking about". He finally said "You will see". We approached a white marble building with windows. We were greeted by another pleasant surprise of a line consisting of at least six hundred people. An hour later, my family finally cruised through security. What came next was the most astonishing sight I have ever seen. Before me was grass in such good shape, it looked like artificial turf. It was lined with about ten thousands stone white crosses and occasionally Stars of David. In perfect rows and columns. This quickly whipped me into shape and I soon forgot about everything that had went wrong previously in the day. On the crosses, it gave a fallen soldiers name, where they grew up, and where and when they died. I began to look for someone who lived close to me. As I was walking down the isles, an older man with shimmering white hair, with a distinct limp caught my eye. The man wore a black jacket with yellow writing on his sleeve, which I could not make out. The man also had a hat on which said World War "Two veteran". He had a very determined look on his face, he was on a mission. He peered at each tomb stone for a second, then quickly swung his head to the next. I watched him for a couple more minutes. About a minute later I turned around to look for him. At first I could not find him, but then I saw him out of the corner of my eye. He was in his knees before a cross with tears flowing down his cheek. I tried to mind my own business but I could not, however, I could not help myself and slowly advanced towards him. It became clear that the writing on his jacket stated "Normandy Veteran" on it. When he finally left the cross I looked at the cross. It read Christopher Moore Normon, Oklahoma Died on Omaha Beach, June 6, 1944 This man stormed the beaches and this was his dead comrade.

The New Defender by Jack Nisbet

The beautiful soft hot sand pressing against my feet. The pain on my back from carrying around all the beach gear. The sound of my cousin crying because she was extremely hungry and yelling, "are we almost there yet, than my aunt yelling back "5 more minutes" because my cousin knew we had a long walk till we arrived at our favorite spot on south carolinas private beach in Hilton Head. The crashing waves, and the dead jelly fish flopped lying at the edge of the water, and being able to see the guts out of it because of the bikes that trampled over them. The beautiful sail boats that were sailing away about 2 miles into the sea. All I could hear when we arrived at our favorite spot on the beach was the palm trees swaying as the wind blows them. Our favorite spot is surrounded by sand dunes; it felt like we had the whole beach to ourselves. I dropped my cooler, my beach chair , and ran down to the water screaming "paradise at last". As I walked down all that was on mind was my dog, named lily, sprinting behind me. Lily was an English Bulldog who was 2 at the time. She ran into the water as fast as she could; splashing and having a great time. A couple of seconds after, I saw a perfect spiraling football coming right at me , I stuck my hands out not to catch the ball, but to protect myself from it nailing me in the head. My hands blocked the ball, and soon after I  saw my brother going out for a pass; I got up from under the water and threw the ball towards my brother. The next blaring thing that I see is my brother diving towards the ball, he catches it then makes a Sprawling splash into the water "great catch" I scream then with his cocky twist to himself he stand up and says, "I know tell me something that I don't know." My brothers name was mike and he was 8 at the time. once he got up, seconds later my uncle gathered us up to make a very exciting football game. While listening to him I could hear lily panting cause she just chased after my brother. The game that we were gonna play is one of us would be a quarter back, one a wide receiver, and one person a corner back. The wide receiver would go out for a pass and the corner back would try to cover. The first play was I was supposed to go out for a slant, and then go deep. When my uncle said hike I bolted as fast as lightening, and soon beat my brother with speed and got the easy reception. I then told my uncle "this task was a breeze". It was my brothers turn to go out for a pass. As my uncle was talking to my brother about what play he was going to go out for a pass I was trying to play with lily. As the time came Mike started off slow than bolted deep. I was on him tight then I took a digger, but lily started chasing after my brother. When he was about to haul the ball into his arms lily took his feet out and knocked him over. My brother started to burst in tears and my uncle came over to help him up and carrying him up to my mom. Lily who was the MVP of the game saved me from a loss to my brother which would of been really embarrassing. 'If it wasn't for you" I said to her. she waged her tail, and ran back up to Mike.

Untitled by Evan Montgomery

I was in the computer lab finishing up some religion homework that I forgot to do, when Ms. Chen walked by, she came in and said , "Evan, you need to go to the theater now to practice for morning meeting." We practiced on friday, but over the weekend, I had forgotten. "Okay, give me a sec." I printed out the religion paper, got my stuff, and sprinted down the breezeway. I got my stuff from my locker and just made it in time for morning meeting. I ran in, found a seat, and sat down. I was sitting next to Andrew Olivo and behind Ariyand Aminpour. We talked together for no more than 10 seconds before Mr. Hamblet told us to quiet down. He talked on for about 15 minutes, I thought he had forgotten about our class, I was relieved. "Okay, we have a presentation from the 7th grade chinese class today, so could they come up to the stage." Mr. Hamlet stated, Andrew laughed as I walked up to the stage. We started the cheesy dance for chinese class, everybody laughed, but not loudly, a little chuckle here and there. As we got to the free-style part, Eamonn Duffy was looking at me thinking I wouldn't go out there and slide across the stage like I did when practicing Friday, he would bet his bottom dollar that I wouldn't do it, but I did, I ran out onto the stage and slid across releasing my fan to spread it out, the whole theatre burst out laughing as this cheesy middle school performance turned into a comedy show. As we finished up I walked off the stage and right away got a high-five from Colin Carroll, I sat down as Andrew and Ariyand were laughing about what I had just done, there was an empty seat Next to Ariyand, Sam Papile sits down in it, he noticed he missed the performance, he was happy he didn't have to go up there. For the rest of the day that was all I heard about, Ms. Chen even said I was the star of the show.

That One Lucky Day by Harry Hernberg

It was the summer of 2012. I was on an average baseball team, but there were definitely some very good players. We certainly were not a dream team though. There was no way we should have beat some of the teams we faced. Essentially, we were lucky. However, it is indisputable that we were the closest team when it comes to friendship and helping each other out. Yes, I was probably the leader of that team so I needed to set a good example for the other players. How we went where we did was truly based off of our ability to pick each other up after a tough play. It was the championship game. We, on a regular basis, had absolutely no chance of beating the team we played that game. Our head coach was recovering from a surgery, our warm-ups were despicable, and we didn't have enough people to play the game until about 15 minutes before the game started; we were such a hot mess. So, it was the third inning, and I knew that our head coach was in a seriously tough condition. That was until I saw him right under a tree watching our game. I exclaimed, "Coach is watchin our game! I thought he was still recovering!" Our assistant coach said, "Harry, we know he can't coach, but how do ya think he's gonna miss this game and not completely regret it." I felt like that statement fired up the team. Now, the real story is in the last two innings. We were winning by two, we had the winning out at the plate,we were on defense, but there were two guys on base. Brendan Bettencourt lined a pitch so hard, it was like it would burn a hole in someone's glove. The two runs on base scored, and he was the winning run on second base. It was not looking too good for my team. To add on to that, there was a decent sized crowd that was not on our side. You didn't even have to listen to hear them screaming, "Let's go C Spirito!" I thought it was a nightmare. The next pitch was a fake bunt to get the runner going to third. It was successful. Well, the fake was successful. The advance of the runner was not. I felt the seam of the baseball on my fingertips, hurled it to Leland Frantz who I had no idea could catch a ball and deliver a clean tag, and we got the out. This was probably the riskiest move I have ever completed in my baseball career. That is one good thing from that game. Will Keohane had exhibited a poor game. He had gone 0 for 3 in his first 3 at bats. He got a walk which was incredible for me. I was next up in the order facing a pitcher who threw his fastball like his life depended on it. I needed a hit though. I went to the batter's box, dug my cleats into the ground, tightened my grip on the bat, and I was ready. I let the first two pitches go. Neither of them were good enough so I didn't swing. I knew the next one was going to be good though. It was a perfect pitch. It was right in the zone so I took a hack at it. I sprinted to first base not knowing where the ball was until I looked up to see both outfielders staring at the ball that went over the fence. I was elated. My team cleared the bench and darted out to home plate to hop on me and celebrate what happened. The other team got one final at bat because they were the home team. It didn't prove to be helpful though; it was the bottom of the order which had gotten a combined 3 hits in the entire playoffs. They didn't get one that day. We won. The ending score was 7-5 in favor of our team. None of us knew what had happened. It was definitely an upset. What we did was so unbelievable, I had to pinch myself just to be sure I wasn't dreaming. I was not dreaming that day. It actually happened. Our head coach met up with us at the end of the game to take pictures and take part in the trophy presentation. He just had to ask me, "Did you know you hit a home run as soon as it came off your bat?" I replied, "No." "So you're telling me that you had no clue that you had hit that homer when I was watching it sail over the fence by a good fifty feet! Rubbish." "Hey coach, I'm just happy we won."