Warden

     Billy and Morgan slipped into the wonderful shade along the prison wall.
     "Hey Billy, I just heard the guard say that the warden is coming out to the yard," whispered Morgan.
     "No!"
     "Hey keep it down. We aren't supposed to know," He wipes his brow with his hand as the intense Arizona sun sears into his flesh.
     "Sorry, its just that last time the warden signaled me out and made me look like an incompetent fool."
     "Damn it's hotter then wearing panda fir in the middle of the Sahara."
     "Didn't you hear what I said you old deaf sonofabitch. The warden loathes me and is going to make my life...
     "Ssssshhhhh, it's here." All the prisoners turn to the ominous figure proceeding from the iron gates. The lean body of the warden enters the yard. Her long brown hair swaying at every step and her piercing eyes search out for her unlucky victim. Billy whimpers as he feverishly trys to camouflage himself into the shadows of the stone prison wall.
     "You there, come here," the warden exclaims to Billy. Billy curses under his breath.
     "Yes Ma'am."
     "What is your name?"
     "William Mater, Ma'am."
     "Come with me you disgusting scum bag." Billy slowly trudges behind the warden as they leave the yard. The iron gates shut behind them with a loud,"Clang!"

     Morgan didn't move the rest of the day. He remained there waiting for his only compatriot to reappear but he never did...


    

The Jungle

        A young boy wanders the halls of Princess Margaret Secondary School in Penticton BC. Suddenly a cloister of students exit a nearby classroom followed by more. Eventually the halls are filled with mostly caucasian students with few East Indians in the mix. The lone boy gets swooped up in the jostling of books and peers as he is lost in the jungle of the hallway. After what seems like mere seconds to some students and hours for others the halls are vacant. The adolescent boy lies on the cold cement floor, his books splayed everywhere along with his pride and self worth. In those few minutes of switching classes this innocent boy was the victim of a bully.

        To this day bullying is a real and ever present problem. Most students are unaware of the situations that take place. This malevolent problem has reached out with its extraneously long bony fingers and has grasped a high school in Penticton and this young grade 9 boy is the first of many victims.

         When asked about his life at school the student responded quickly spurting out "normal and fine" as he rushed on to class. It almost seems that he is in a state of denial or he is scared that his predators my punish him for explaining the truth. Again the student was asked but this time if he was being bullied, the response was shocking "I am not being bullied I just have some friends that like to have fun once in a while." This reply depicts his attackers as his friends. The boy is showing signs of a paradoxical psychological phenomenon or other wise known as Stockholm syndrome because he is sticking up for his attackers and  announcing them as his friends when he is really the martyr to their maliciousness.

        This quandary explains how powerful and daunting bullying can be and become. Bullying can capture someone in a convoluted deluge of terror and confusion. Princess Margaret is inauspiciously unaware of the shadow that coats the school in a mystical obscurity that feeds on the fear of students.

The Prodigy

I am the prodigy, the most protective, prevailing, powerful, professional producer, performing pediatrics while peddling in a pavilion with my prestigious pedometer while writing the most profound story ever.

I believe that something cannot come from nothing. Someone famous once told me that I would succeed above all others, while he stood on Mount Sinai holding the laws. Inventing the spaceship was done by me. Inventing speech wasn't my greatest accomplishment, but inventing the thought of inventing was. I created fire.

When people ask me "what superpower would you want?"
I reply, "I already have them all."

My flag is on the moon. My flag is on Mars. My flag is on Everest, The Eiffel Tower, The Great Wall and my house. I get up every morning. I once fought the malicious Persian army while creating an unrivaled sculpture of Lincoln and learning Latin. I died once but only for a couple days. I am the leader of all the rebellions around the globe, but I am also the one who puts them to rest. My mind is overwhelmed with the fact that I use 100% brain power. Even Albert Einstein looked up to me. Even Napoleon Bonaparte looked up to me. He was very short. I had the audacity to disagree with Hitler as he conspired against the Jews.

Names and labels belittle what I am. I was never awarded the majestic Nobel Peace Prize because I fashioned it. I never complain. My mother said "I was the perfect baby". I like to take bubble baths in volcanoes. James Cameron stole my ideas. King Arthur knighted me with Excalibur. Broadway became famous due to my outstanding acting talents. During the Cold war I had a cold. I can generate enough energy that I can fuel the sun. The great prophets were my students. Alexander the Great was my brother and Hatsheput my sister. I wrote the dictionary and Bill Gates learnt from me. Greek mythology was my childhood. When I sneeze someone says bless you. I inspired Martin Luther King Jr's speech. I went to the end of the universe once and then kept going. Exploration and discovery are what I do best. I once knew how to cure cancer, solve pollution and world hunger, I forgot. I have loved.

All the Roman Emperors were me dressed-up. All the unknown natives are kept concealed by me. Today I founded a new religion. I am the Babe Ruth of baseball, the Pele of soccer, the Michael Jordan of basketball, the Tiger Woods of golf, the Gretzky of hockey, the Gandhi of pacifism but I am only now applying for University.

The Place of Kings

It's cold, damp and dark for many long hours. Everyone else around me feels the same. A wonderful sound of keys jingling reaches our ears. We all wait with great anticipation. The big doors groan and light floods into our eyes. A shadow blocks the light momentarily, then moves and the light reaches us once more. I can hear the others all whisper to who will get selected today. A giant hand reaches towards me. It picks me up and squeezes. Pain discharges through my body. Even through the pain I am exuberant that I have been selected. My joy is shattered when I am placed back with the others. I become full of rage and jealousy towards the lucky one. The student walks away and my chances of being used have been crushed, but wait I have another chance. The adolescent searches through the bin looking for the perfect one. This time it will be me. I swell myself up and move to the centre of the bin. The searching hands find me and I am lifted from my not so eternal captor. The darkness falls behind as the light bounces off me. My mind depicts the wondrous cascade of colours as I enter the place of kings. I suddenly feel weightless as I am expelled from my holder. I feel confusion as to why I am being discarded but then something erupts into my face. I absorb it and then it sends me back up into the waiting hands of my saviour. For the next hour I am over joyed as I am bounced, hit, passed and even served back and forth throughout the gym. I am unknown to the fear and sadness that surrounds my player because this is his last time in the gym, but for me this is the apex of my life. It seems to last for only mere seconds because a sound interrupts my thoughts. My user sighs and turns towards my prison. I hear each step fall as I am brought back to hell. My time in the hands of this amazing creature is at an end. I feel the air pass beside me as I fly through it. I land back in the bin with the others. The massive doors swing closed and we are all sent back into the blackness. The lock clicks shut and the fall of foot steps gets farther away. Now all I can do is wait, and wait till the gateway is opened once again.