Clouds of smoke billowed from the windows

She just stood there, her ashen face still and drained of emotion

She pulled the rough, brown blanket around her tighter

A single teardrop ran downed her face

It lingered on her chin, and plummeted to the ground

The moment it grazed the ground, it felt like time had stopped

Her grimy brown hair whipped her face, and she brushed out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear

When she looked up, everything had slowed

The firefighters ran with precision that was unseen before

A man jumped from an open window, flaying his arms in slow motion as though he were dancing

Embers fell from the sky like gentle snowflakes

"I caused this," she thought

A flaming sign that read 'The Bailey Baking School' creaked and groaned, and fell from the top of the building, crushing her, and the truth about the disaster

I lay my head on my pillow

Waiting till I fall asleep

Until then I think

I think about life

About love

About school

About friends

About family

A tear wends it way down my cheek

It falls silently on my pillow, making a splotch

Then another falls

And then another

Until there no more tears left for me to cry

I thank my pillow for enduring my sadness

And close my eyes

And dream

I spun around in my chair, looking up at the ceiling. I groaned. I needed a way for the characters in my story to go into a different dimension. As I spun, I noticed my Minecraft nether portal poster go by. I stamped my feet on the ground, stopping my chair. That’s it. Portal. It was staring me in the face the whole time. A pixelated purple swirl appeared on the computer screen in front of Jay and Mei, which continued to grow until it was like a large optical illusion. Hues of purples and pinks went round in circles, putting them both in a trance. They didn’t know what made them do it, but they grasped each other’s hands and jumped in. Out of nowhere, a pixelated purple swirl appeared on the computer screen in front of me. It continued to grow until it was like a large optical illusion. Hues of purples and pinks went round in circles, putting me in a trance. I don’t know what made me do it, but I jumped in.

People trickle into the large auditorium, finding their velvet seats. I furrow my brow, not seeing the person I’m looking for. “Ten minutes till showtime!” a voice booms from somewhere behind me. Everyone starts scuttering frantically. I start to sweat, hoping not to ruin my make up before the show. The make up artists brush wildly at the cheeks of actors and actresses as costumes are shoved on. A man putting on a sweater gets stuck in the itchy garment. He trips over the wavy dress of an actress holding a glass of water, which splashes all over him. He knocks into a make up table, shattering one of the small spherical white lights lining the vanity mirror. It makes contact with where the water spilled and sparks fly. The shoulder of the sweater catches fire, threatening to spread as he wobbles around in circles. People are running, grabbing cups of water, trying to pour it on the sweater. No water extinguishes the flame. Most of it ends up on the floor, causing people who are coming over to the man with more water, to slip. The man barrels through the crowd, making people dive out of the way. He stumbles, and falls into the snack table.

“NOOO!!! MY FOOD!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!? GET AWAY FROM MY BEAUTIFUL, DELICIOUS, AMAZING FOOD!!!” screams a squat, chubby woman wearing a white apron. She shoves people out of the way and dives towards him, but

she misses. Instead, she lands on the table, breaking it in half. Scones, muffins, tarts, fruits, and other snacks go flying in to the air. I’m paralyzed in shock. At the same time, the guy in the sweater sneezes and stumbles backwards, setting the dress of an actress on fire. It spread to other dresses, until twenty women are jumping around in dresses of fire. The fire makes them dance around, as though they are performing. The food flies through the crowd of the girls wearing dresses of fire, also catching fire. It was as if mini meteors were flying through the air. They land everywhere. One lands on the sleeve of a bald man wearing black, who starts to wave his arms around wildly. A female up on the rafters who doesn’t know what is going on takes this as her cue. She jumps and glides through the air, the rope cord keeping her from falling waving behind her. Her black cape billows out from behind her, revealing her black tights and matching black long sleeved shirt. She screams in horror as she sees what is happening. Her vampire teeth could be seen and her black mascara almost hid her eyes. The purple colored blush like a swollen cheek is smeared. A scone landed perfectly on her back and she swings forward. It rolls off her back, leaving a path of fire. It lands near the foot of a man in black who is controlling the curtains. At the same time, the girl who had jumped from the ceiling had knocked down a few paint cans, one landing on someone’s head and knocking him unconsious while paint splattered on the backs of many actors and actresses. Everyone spun around and started screaming, “YOU!” and “DID YOU JUST SPLATTER PAINT ALL OVER ME?” People start throwing paint like snowballs and fist fighting each other. The snack lady had managed to get up and chase around the man in the sweater, who didn’t know where he was going. The ball of fire surpised the curtain man and he jumps. The man trips and gets his foot stuck in the ropes. It lifts him off the ground and with him, the curtain. Just before the curtain leaves the ground, a flaming muffin rolls into the curtain’s edges, burning it. As the curtain goes up, the audience stops talking and laughing. They just stare at the people backstage who hadn’t noticed. There was a man wearing a burning sweater running around being chased by an angry woman, people throwing paint at each other, girls dancing in flaming dresses, a girl on fire swinging around in the air, a man dangling by his foot in the air, people slipping on water, and a burning curtain. I couldn’t move. It was backstage mayhem.

If you asked me to tell you who my best friend is, I would answer with four names. It would be literally impossible for me to choose a best friend! It’s like a puzzle. They each have a piece that when put together makes the puzzle. That puzzle is the best friend. But today I’m going to write about one of them who if it weren’t for them, the past year would have been boring. The first memories I have of him were from a book “company”. I saw a few of my friends and a person I knew but wasn’t friends with hunched over a few pieces of paper. I wandered over to them and asked what they were doing. They told me they were working on pages for a book. I was intrigued I sat down and questioned them while they worked, which now that I think of it must have been very bothersome. I soon learned they were a “company” who made books about a girl named Georgita. Georgita went on many crazy adventures, and they were currently working on the book where she journeyed to Monaco. In my head, I thought if what I was about to do was rude. I decided not, and still to this day I don’t if this was rude or not. I asked them if I could join. They graciously accepted and told me about all the positions. At first, I wanted to be an illustrator. Then, I wanted to be an author. Finally, they told me they needed someone to add more imagination in their stories. I slept on it, and the next afternoon I told them I would take the position. They needed a name for the position, so they called it “The Ideator”. I happily researched Monaco, providing the team with info. The graphic novel came out great, with my favorite part being when Alicia Keys sings “Car On Fire”. When it was time to meet about the next book, things when downhill. My friend and I tried to get the group together, but when we finally did, there was an unwanted visitor. He came at the start of the meeting, just in time to hear about the next book. He instantly said he wanted to join, but nobody wanted him in the “company”. We knew we had to say yes or there would be trouble. We grudingly let him join, but we all found him to be too wild and a little bossy. Things were a little unorganized, so we decided to digitalize some of the “company”. That’s when my friend, one of the two founders of the “company” quit. She wasn’t liking the new member and was not happy with the digital idea. The remainder of us tried to make an ending book to end the series, but soon everybody started quitting. And just like that, Georgita crashed and burned. But the good thing was I had made a new friend. It was that kid that I knew but wasn’t friends with when I first joined. And that’s how I met my best friend. What happened to the person who joined? I had grudge against him for a long time. But today we are friends. His name is actually one of the four I would mention when asked about my best friends. But I found it wierd how my best friend in the beginning was the person I knew but wasn’t friends with. After a while, we had gone through a lot together. Some good, some bad. He introduced me to Dungeons & Dragons, the best RPG in the universe. Just by watching him, I’d started to learn to draw. But those are the happy times. Of course it can’t just be all fun with a best friend. There have to be rough patches, or it’s an artificial relationship, like in The School For Good And Evil. But in TSFGAE, it goes from a good deed to a real friendship. One of our biggest rough patches involved a birthday sleepover. My family and I were going to Disney World with our cousins, but we were also planning on spending a day at Universal. To prep for that, being the Potterhead I am, I decided to read the Harry Potter books again. That was around the time when he was deciding who to invite to his sleepover. What I didn’t know until after he didn’t invite me was that he could only invite two people. He chose two of our best friends. When I asked him why I wasn’t invited, he said I wasn’t his “go-to friend” at the time. Go-to friend basically means best friend. I thought about why I wasn’t his go-to friend, and he said I was using all of my break time just to read the Harry Potter books. I told him that I gave up time during my break time to play with him, even though I knew I had more to read that night. From there on, it was kind of tense between us. But then, I don’t know how this happened, we made up and it was all fine. Our relationship was stronger than ever, and he even said we would have our own sleepover that summer. When there was no more tension, I told him all that had happened while I was in New Jersey celebrating my cousin’s first birthday which was the same weekend as his birthday sleepover. When I told how when we were opening my cousin’s presents and he got a Rody, and inflatable horse, and he bounced up and down like he was having the time of his life, we laughed like we used to. We laughed even more when I told him how me and my family think he said “butt”. He is pretty good at keeping secrets, and his smile brightens the room. He’s one of my best friends, and he always will be. He has been there through thick and thin, and makes my bad days much better. Thank you for being there, J. E.

Ay! What are you looking at? How does everyone notice me when their heads are all the way up there? Just because I’m small doesn’t mean you need to stare at me! Well, your reaction was better than Snow White’s. She screamed and called me and my roomates’ little men. Snow White even got everyone to laugh at me! How rude. And on top of that, she broke into our house, and weirdly cleaned every nook and cranny of it. Ok, that last part was kind of nice, but you get the point.

I don’t understand why everyone thinks the story is about Snow White. Really, the dwarves should be the stars. I mean, look at us! We’re adorable! Especially Dopey. Darn it, why am I being so… ugh… happy? Being happy isn’t my thing. It’s Happy’s. That’s something that bugs me. All the dwarves are named after their personality. There’s Doc, Happy, Sleepy, Sneezy, Bashful, Dopey, and me, of course the best dwarf of them all, Grumpy.

To be honest, I was a little “happy” when Snow White was poisoned. She was just a tad scary. Her shrill voice made me jump, and why does she like cleaning so much? She was also a little too kind, and, it was scary when she was lying there poisoned. But Snow White isn’t the only creepy person in my life. It was pretty weird that we just happened to have a glass coffin lying around, the perfect size for Snow White, and had her name engraved into the sides. Remind me to stay away from whichever of the dwarves owned the coffin. I will not live with someone who has a glass coffin collection. Many people aren’t just scary, but they are also crazy. You know the prince who kisses Snow White at the end? Oh, he is insane. Who rides through the woods on a horse, just “happens” to stumble upon a dead corpse in a glass coffin, and kisses it? One, that is sooo unsanitary, and two, he didn’t even know her! Princes these days. Yet instead of slapping him across the face and making a run for it, Snow White marries the guy. What is wrong with this kingdom? And don’t even get me started on the queen. She’s all, “Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, why don’t I have any friends?” and the freaky mirror says, “The reason you don’t have any friends is because you try to poison little girls and talk to mirrors.”

Besides the whole event of that story, my life is pretty simple. The other dwarves and I mine gems in cave, and we usually find carts of them. Ka-ching! So, that is pretty normal.

Aside from work, we do everything everyone else does: eat, sleep, and not clean our house. My life is boring most of the time, except when we find girls sleeping in our house uninvited, who then are poisoned by an apple, and make the wrong decision by marrying a cray-cray prince. Well, I’m off to work. And don’t tell anyone about how cheerful I just was. I will hunt you down if you do. And do everyone a favor and be more grumpy. No please, just be more grumpy.