Onyx's fire burned full force at that moment, causing him to break free from the ropes and kill the warrior by sinking his fangs into his neck. After dropping the dead human, he ran to Tourmaline who was laying on the forest floor, blood gushing out of her wounds. Onyx stroked her feathers, then stopped at the stomach, checking for a small pulse.
It wasn't there.
Onyx shook the tears out of his eyes and looked up toward the sky. "Tourmaline would want me to be strong." He looked back down at Tourmaline's body. "My Tourmaline," he sighed.
Onyx couldn't stay in that forest anymore. He knew the hunters would be back, as would enemy dragons, so he propelled himself into the air and began to fly as far away from the Amazon as possible, teardrops falling with the rain. He looked to the stars for friendship and comfort like he had with Tourmaline, and even before he met her. He kept his eyes on one star in particular. "Alone again," Onyx sniffled. "Will peace never come to me?" he asked the heavens.
The star he was watching twinkled in the darkness, as if to say, "Someday, keep fighting."
Onyx blinked the tears out of his eyes, and he felt a warm sensation on his face, like Tourmaline`s breath as she whispered the words the star spoke.
Onyx chuckled quietly. "I forgot, dragons are capable of going to the stars."
###
Grace Snyder
Grace Snyder is a middle school student by day and an aspiring author by night. Wind, Blood and Stars is her debut story, but she is constantly working on other projects in the fantasy, science fiction, and poetry genres. Her inspirations come from all over: from the things she learns in school and books, from music and other media, and from experiences in real life. When not writing or focusing on her studies, Grace can be found enjoying the company of her friends, watching cartoons, and chasing her endless curiosity through reading.
Truth Is
Selah Preston
Truth is, I've heard it so many times before,
"Get over it!" "It's a waste of time!" "Love is just a chore!"
Maybe they've never felt something so strong as this,
Maybe they've never felt such true bliss.
I'm crazy, captivated, head over heels;
I've never seen someone who so much appeals.
And truth is, I'm forgetting everyone and their words to guard;
I'm hoping, by the end, I won't be scarred.
Truth is, I fall for the farthest out of reach...
You can't love anyone to be a heartbreaker,
My heart for you is vulnerable, like a breach,
I don’t want to say it…maybe I’m just a faker.
On falling in love and the romance business,
I'm better at falling and tripping,
Because truth is, you're fearless,
And I'm just slipping...
Truth is, I saw the acceptance in denial,
And the road we travel is just another trial.
The only place we find cheer is in the dark;
That was then, this is now; the difference is stark.
How have we come this far?
How are we so used to getting a scar?
Because truth is, our hearts are erratic,
and all that's left is dead, lifeless static.
Truth is, I'm not one for staying sane,
And you're not a lover who can stay the same.
Our love has gone to our heads,
So my sanity has also gone to shreds.
Your norm is more than chaotic,
But I know that's just your narcotic...
Because truth is, maybe if we chase the pain away,
We might live to see another day.
Truth is, smoke follows beauty,
But I know that's more than just a phrase.
All that was dazzling has been set ablaze.
I guess the same is true for me and you;
We once were perfect and star-crossed.
But truth is, maybe we should be through...
Was the love really as great as the cost?
Truth is, I'm not meant to play this game.
Let me go; I'm nothing to gain.
Let me be clear, there's nothing of us left,
So why do you keep insisting that I'm still perfect?
I'm just a smoldering coal, left to die.
You're the one who is still whole, certainly not I.
Because truth is, you were the only thing I knew,
So let me apologize for loving you.
###
Selah Preston
Selah Preston is a young, aspiring writer in the science fiction, fantasy, and overall fiction genres, who occasionally creates poems when not writing or juggling school, her multiple sports, theater drama, and a busy family life. A few of her many inspirations include music, art, and other authors and screenwriters. Her target audience is just about anybody. Her heart is open to anyone, and a laugh or joke is ready at almost any time. She enjoys making people laugh, the company of her friends, listening to music, relaxing, reading, and practicing with her school's drama team.
The Shine of a Star
Sydney Johnson
Preface
When I was younger my parents always called me their little star, and I never knew if they meant my name or like a pop star. Now I am a pop star and still don’t know.
***
“Stop!” Izabella screams.
“I’m in the middle of rehearsal,” I say.
“I don’t care. You absolutely must try this new performance outfit I got you.” Her Russian accent makes it hard for me to understand. But eventually I go with her because she’s my manager. I try on the metallic purple skirt and sparkly blue tank top. She brings out some black heels and ripped tights.
“Don’t you think this look is a little too 80s?” I ask.
“No.”
“Why don’t we ask Zoey. She did want to be my outfit designer.”
“Fine,” Izabella says.
I go get Zoey from the bathroom where she’s playing with her spiky, black hair.
“Hey Zo.”
“What?”
“What do you think of my performance outfit. Izabella picked it out.”
“Lose the tights, unless you want to be Disco Queen of 2016.”
“Very funny,” I say. “I don’t think you can do anything with your hair when it’s that short.”
***
It’s an hour before the first concert of my tour, and Zoey is adjusting my outfit when Claire runs into my room and yells, “Star! I need to do your hair—now!
“Why? I still have an hour.”
“I know, but I think you have a rival group,” she says.
“A rival group? What the heck is that?”
“Do you know the pop group ‘Ginger & the Chopsticks’?”
“Ya.”
“Well, they’re here to ‘evaluate’ you.” Claire says ‘evaluate’ like it’s a crazy and terrible thing.
“Evaluate?”
“They want to see if you’re worthy of being their rival.”
“That’s dumb, but…” I’m very confused, but I go with her anyway. I love having my best friends get me ready for a concert. Claire pulls me to the hair room and plops me down in the shiny, black chair. Then she pulls my brown, curly hair into a high ponytail.
“Use the spray,” I say. “Your hair is a lot straighter than mine.”
“I know, but I don’t think you need it,” she argues. Claire sprays my hair with a sharp-smelling, airy crap and says, “Done!” like it’s the best thing she’s ever accomplished. “Now go to Izabella for makeup.”
“Thanks,” I yell as I jog through the open door. As I’m running to the makeup room, I run into someone and go sprawling to the floor.
“Sorry! That was stupid of me,” a manly voice says. The owner of the voice helps me up. I see his face: big hazel eyes and black hair that kind of reminds me of Zoey’s.
“Hey, you okay?” he
asks.
I’m stunned and forget what’s happening. “What? Oh, sorry. That was totally my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I say, not looking directly at him. “Not to be rude, but what you doing here?”
“My little sister wanted to see Star, so I brought her back here. I kinda lost her.”
I gasp at what he says. “I’ll help you find her. I know my way around here pretty well.”
“Thanks,” he says, appearing to be relieved. “What’s your name?”
“Star Raqua.”
“So you’re the famous pop ‘Star.’ Get it?”
“Yes. You’re very ‘punny,’ I say. Get it?”
“Ha! Please never make a pun again.”
“Deal. Now, Mr. Lost-His-Sister, what’s your name?”
“Arrow.”
“Seriously, what’s your real name?” I ask.
He pauses then says, “Fletcher Forest. But my friends call me Arrow.”
Izabella walks up and says, “Did anyone lose a little sister?”
I look behind her, and there stands a little girl about six or seven years old, hiding. She looks remarkably like Arrow/Fletcher. (I haven’t decided what to call him yet.) “That would be his sister,” I say, pointing my thumb at Arrow. (That’s what I’m going to call him.)
“Thank you guys so much,” he says to the girls. “Come on, Fawni. I want to introduce you to Star.”
Fawni squeals and hugs me so tightly, I feel like a balloon about to pop. “Why don’t you go with your brother,” I say to her. “I need to get ready for the concert.”
She skips off with Arrow, but he stops and turns around, mouthing to me, “Meet me at the ice cream place later.”
I know which place he means. It’s a delicious one down the road called ‘Papa Piero’s Sugar Shop.’
Izabella yells, “Five minutes! Get into that makeup room NOW!” We rush to the room, but this time I look where I’m going so I don’t run into any other cute boys. I smile and think, Lookout “Ginger & the Chopsticks.” Your evaluation tonight is definitely going to prove that “Star” is a worthy rival!
***
After the concert my voice is crackly, and I can barely talk. I had sung 14 songs, all of them from my album “Turn Up the Microphone.” When I finally get all my makeup taken off and my hair down, I take a shower and change into my favorite outfit: bleached and ripped skinny jeans with a sea-green tank top and plaid mini sweater.
I have to take someone with me so I don’t get ambushed by the paparazzi. I ask Claire to go along, since she’s the quietest. We hop into my red convertible.
“Are you gonna have fun on your little date?” she says in a mocking tone halfway to the ice cream parlor.
“It’s not a date,” I say. “Fawni will be there, and so will you.”
“Okay, fine.” Claire takes the green and purple butterfly clip from her blond hair and plays with it.
We pull into ‘Papa Piero’s Sugar Shop” and hop out of the car. We walk inside, and I see Arrow waiting with Fawni; she’s licking a strawberry ice cream cone.
“Hey, Star!” Arrow says. Fawni jumps up and gives me another big hug. Arrow hands me a mint chocolate chip ice cream cone.
I wonder how he knows that’s my favorite, I think. “Yum,” I say. “Thanks.”
Arrow looks out the window and exclaims, “Whoa! Is that an original 220 Mustang convertible?”
“Yep. It’s mine,” I tell him.
He grabs my wrists playfully, and we run outside, laughing. He checks out the engine then says, “Come here.”
I walk up close to him, and he puts his hands around my waist, lifting me up onto the hood of the car. Then he hops up, too.
“Careful,” I say, laughing. “Izabella will kill me if I hurt this car.”
“Why do you doubt me? I know my way around here pretty well.”
We look into each other’s eyes, and all of a sudden—as if in the movies—it starts to rain. I look up at the sky then back at Arrow. He has been watching me the whole time.
“Star,” he says and puts one arm around my waist.
“Yes?” I say softly. Then, in one swift motion, he pulls me closer. When we are nose-to-nose I put my hands on his cheeks; Arrow has strong cheekbones and smooth skin. He pulls my face even closer until our lips lock in a strong embrace. The world must be ending, I think, because all I can feel is his lips against mine.
I almost fall off the car when Claire says, “Fawni dropped her ice cream, and I don’t have any money to buy her another one.”
Arrow and I slide down pretending nothing had happened.
***
Back inside Arrow buys Fawni a new ice cream cone; it’s smaller this time since she ate some of the one she dropped.
Buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz. Arrow’s phone is ringing. He picks it up and mumbles, “Mm-hmm. Okay. Yep. Fine.” He turns to Fawni and says, “Time to go home, Fawni.” She runs up to me and gives me yet another big hug.
I exchange numbers with Arrow, and he says, “I hope we’ll see each other again soon, Star.”
We all leave, but on the car ride home Clair whispers, “I saw you kissing, ya know.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Just don’t tell Izabella. Or Zoey.”
“Fine.”
***
At about midnight I get a text from Arrow: R U still in NY? If U R we should meet up again. Txt me l8tr.
I txt him back: Srsly, a txt @ 12:00? Yes, I’m still in NY 4 my whole tour. Where will we meet?
His reply: IDK. I know a great place downtown. It’s called Lovers Hill.
Me: OMG! U consider us lovers?
Arrow: Yes totally.
Me: OK I will meet U there 2morrow @ noon.
Arrow: Great! I have something super important to tell U. Bye. GTG.
I was so excited; I just knew things were going to get better!
I was wrong.
***
It’s the next morning, and I’m going to wear something not too casual, but not too fancy either: some khaki shorts and a blue silky shirt. I leave my hair down but put in a diamond clip. “How do I look?” I ask Zoey and Claire.
Without even looking at me Zoey says, “Different shirt.”
“What’s wrong with this one?” I ask.
“Way too silky,” Zoey says and hands me a new shirt with orange and blue diagonal stripes.
She’s right; it looks way better. “Thanks, Zo.” I run out the door. I am super excited to see Arrow, but I’m also nervous because he said he has something super important to tell me. I wonder what it is.
***
I see Arrow sitting on Lovers Hill, watching the sky.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hi,” Arrow says. “Listen, before I say anything else, I have to tell you something really, really, really important.”
“What is it?”
“This is hard for me to say, but here goes. My older brother, River, is in the Army, and he says they need new recruits. Over twelve thousand men and women have died, and he wants to be able to say goodbye to me before he gets shot or something.”
My hand flies to my mouth, and tears rush down my cheeks. I hug Arrow without even thinking about it.
He pushes me away. “Wait, there’s more,” he says. “I don’t want to leave New York. Or Fawni. Or you. But my brother needs me. I’m letting you decide.”
“What?” Well, this is a surprise. “I can’t decide something like this! It’s just too much!”
I run toward the woods, but Arrow stops me and pulls me into a kiss. The kiss is so strong I think it is meant just to keep me next to him. But I pull away and run down the hill. Arrow doesn’t follow me; he just stands there. When I get to the bottom of the hill I text Izabella to send someone to pick me up.
About two minutes later a limo pulls into the parking lot. I get in and sit in the comfort of the leather seats and think, Oh. My. God. What just happened? Then the tears come.
***
Later that night I wake up with a headache and an upset stomach. I look at the clock; it’s 1:09 a.m. I take out my phone and text: Go to the Army with River.
Arrow, about one minute later: U sure?
Me: Yes.
Arrow: OK…I love you.
Me: Goodbye.
I delete Arrow’s contact, turn off my phone, and rush to the bathroom where I throw up.
I tell Zoey and Clair everything. They leave the room and come back with a box of tissues and chocolate ice cream.
“Thanks,” I say, “But could you please leave me alone right now?”
They give me a sympathetic look and walk out.
What did I just do?
###
Sydney Johnson
Sydney Johnson lives in Michigan in the same house she's always lived in. Her favorite animal is the meerkat, and her favorite color is blue. Sydney was inspired to write her short story, “The Shine of a Star,” by her future dreams. She enjoys basketball, music, and art of any kind.
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