Alternate Realities Archives - the bird on fire

If you could live anywhere . . . ?

February 14, 2025 by szachik@pvs.org 1 Comment

By 6th-Grade Bloggers on Special Assignment Dior Halum and Sophia Nayfack

Over the past couple of weeks, Sophia and Dior went around campus asking the PVS community: “Given ANYBODY, ANYWHERE, who do you want to live with and in what kind of weather?” Since it is so hot in the desert, Sophia and Dior wanted to see if people would stay given the chance to leave.

8th-Grader Elizabeth Trevino-Greenwood

“I want to live in cold and snowy weather with my best friend Emmy! ”

8th-Grader Zoey Guess

“I would like to live with my husband and in snowy weather.”

7th-Grader Grace Ghaly

“I would like to live in a beachy climate with my family.”

8th-Grader Ryder Gardner

“In a place where there is always sun with my dog.”

Ms. Emma

“With my son Dean in the snow.”

8th-Grader Zoe Groendyke

“I want to live alone with my cat in the snow.”

12th-Grader Lily Jones

“I would like to live with my best friends in the sun.”

9th-Grader Sierra James

“I would live with my dogs and friends in the cold.”

6th-Grader Lina Kakoussian

“I would want to live with Reagan and Greenlee in a 70℉ weather.”

6th-Grader Charlie Joyce

“In a sunny climate with Mikel and my dog Maurice.”

6th-Grader Cash Brasfield

“Beachy weather with my dog.”

6th-Grader Daniel Bagheri

“In the sun with my friends.”

6th-Grader Mikel Lomsky

“In the sun with my friends.”

6th-Grader Roman Magellanes

“In the snow with my friends.”

7th-Grader Silvanita Garcia

“The rain and snow with many animals.”

Coach Erenberg

“75℉ with my wife.”

In conclusion, we got a wide variety of answers throughout the different grades, and even staff members! Everyone gave their question a lot of thought and personality! The most common answer throughout the campus was a snow-filled landscape with friends.

“A true friend knows all of your flaws and chooses to stick around.” — Elizabeth Trevino Greenwood

Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?

March 28, 2024 by szachik@pvs.org 1 Comment

I don’t know . . . . They were pretty smart. During last quarter’s Move-Up Day, 5th-grade bloggers joined our Middle-Upper School Journalism class. We interviewed them. They interviewed us. Here’s what we gleaned.

5th-grader Reagan Kaminsky shared her experience, wisdom, and eagerness with 8th-grade Blogger Jack Edelstein:

“I’ve learned that to move on if I get something wrong or if someone is making fun of me.
“My favorite teacher Mrs. Delegans, the music teacher; she is not just a teacher but is also a friend. She has really helped me excel in my knowledge.”
“I’m excited for middle school because of more freedom such as lockers and being able to spread around the campus during lunch.”
“I am excited for electives, especially this one (Blog). I’m excited for this elective because I get more freedom on work compared to other classes with stricter work.”

5th-grader Cleo Antle told senior Blogger Gil Maruvada . . .

. . . she loves basketball and performing. She’s always loved to dance around the house. She did a play at Palm Valley, The Wizard of Oz. And, she wants to be a doctor, go to UCLA ,and do gymnastics. Her favorite class? Science, music or drama. Favorite quote? “Everyone gets their own turn.”

Freshman Blogger Louisa Richardson asked 5th-graders Levi Laberge Ranger and Savannah Sanchez, “What are you excited about next year?”

“I’m excited for things to be different. I want to blog next year. . . . I like lower school better because I am more used to it, I guess. Today we threw pencils at Mr. Killeen; it was fun.” –Savannah

Levi says he wants to blog. “One of the big differences is that there is more free roam in the middle school. I’m in Mr. Spurlock’s class, and I enjoy… that he is funny but has boring jokes. I liked math today; I had Mr. Gil.

Senior Blogger Indiana Behr asked Remington Rice, “What’s fifth grade like?”

“I think it’s pretty fun, and you get to… have fun.”
“Who is your teacher?”
“My teacher is Mr. Spurlock.”
“What did do today for move up day?”
“We did math with Mr. Gil. I am having robotics later, and I am having fun in Blog. I went to English with Ms. Maguire. Oh, and we did World Studies with Ms. Schapiro.”

What’s Your Favorite Color?

November 28, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 2 Comments

By 8th-Grader Jackie Doyle Padgett

We have a new addition to the Blog Staff: Jackie Padgett. Jackie breaks out with great enthusiasm for her favorite color: Orange. According to Jackie, the vibrant color of citrus fruit just doesn’t get enough representation and not nearly good enough press. She’s here to change your mind.

Knowing someone’s favorite color is probably one of the most asked questions when you meet someone–after asking their name of course. It’s used to start a lot of small talk. Well, my favorite color is orange. It’s one of those colors people either love or hate (According to Color Matters).

You may have seen results of the Statistics class surveys (posted outside of MS E-3, aka Mr. Gil’s room). Statistics class members went around the school asking people’s opinions on things. One Statistics group asked people What‘s your favorite color? On the posted findings, I noticed that no one said “Orange.” Orange didn’t even make it on the graph. This inspired me to change people’s minds about the disliked color orange. It deserves some spotlight, and, who knows, maybe after these facts, it will be your new favorite color.

HISTORY OF ORANGE

Surprisingly, orange didn’t really have a name until the 16th century (MyModernMet). It was mostly called yellow-red, but when orange trees were brought to Europe, people saw the vibrant fruit and named the color after it. Orange was used a lot by painters in 1809 after the first fully orange color was produced around 10 years prior (Pigments through the Ages). Van Gogh used shades of orange in a lot of his paintings to contrast the blues, purples, and blacks (Van Gogh Museum). Monet also incorporated lots of oranges in his work–mainly in sunsets and flowers.

THE MEANING OF ORANGE

With basic art knowledge, you should know that orange is a mix of red and yellow. Red is used in many things like stoplights/signs which are meant to capture your attention. Wearing red tends to give people confidence. Yellow tends to help people’s memory (SpringerOpen), and, apparently, wearing yellow makes people try to engage in a conversation. It makes people feel more active/talkative (SensationalColor). That’s why when you wake up, you might feel a lot more energetic after going outside and seeing the sun. Orange is said to project confidence and energy but also optimism. When you wear orange, it might make you more outgoing and adventurous because it’s such a bright color.

ADVERTISING

Thus, many famous companies use orange for advertising:

Snapple
Reeses
Nickelodeon
Dunkin
Amazon

They do this because the right color combo draws attention. This is similar to when on the highway some people will turn their billboards upside down to make you look. The companies who use orange are mostly toy stores, gift shops, and food places. Orange can symbolize cheap but good quality. So, if you’re shopping on Amazon and see that little orange arrow, it sparks a little voice in your head that pulls you in if you’re looking for good deals (even though they might not be). Also, children are more likely to pick up or play with things that are orange (TreeFrog.). They’re drawn to it. See Nickelodeon; it could’ve been any color, but Nickelodeon executives chose orange.

Orange will forever be my favorite color. I expect to see it on the next-color related chart (Statistics Class, I’m looking at you.). If you have any fun facts about your favorite color, feel free to share it in the comments below!

The Aesthetics of Paranoia

November 9, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 1 Comment

Occasionally, we at The Bird on Fire are gifted with contributions from guest bloggers. One of our favorite guests is the apparently mild-mannered Mr. Hesson from the Math Department. We find Mr. Hesson has many layers and many passions. He shares with us here his interest in a particularly uneasy music genre.

By Middle-Upper School Mathematics Teacher Mr. Eric Hesson

In some small way, I believe that an essential part of the modern human experience is our attraction to fear. As much as we may hate the feeling, we seem to delight in confronting it on our own terms. Art and entertainment has thus been fashioned to sate this hunger, to deliver an experience of fear within the bounds of relative safety. This is seen most obviously in horror, a genre typified by portrayals of intense shock and terror. But there is also art which incorporates a more subdued sort of fear. A muted dread, a slow suspense, a gentle lacing of anxiety into the mundane. This is the aesthetic I wish to explore here – a style in art (and particularly music) which I truly love – an aesthetic of paranoia.

Paranoia is an omnidirectional fear – a fear of everyone and everything, of danger lurking around every corner. But since it is diffused so broadly, its potency can be diluted, allowing it to fade into the background. Paranoid art uses fear in this way – as a constant, a ubiquitous tonal center. While horror juxtaposes extremes of tension and release, paranoid art marries the two, weaving tension in consistently with the calm. It makes the fear inescapable, but dials down its intensity so it can be appreciated merely as ambiance.

In certain eras in recent history, an aesthetic of paranoia has found its way into mainstream popular culture, driven perhaps by sociopolitical unrest or widespread fear of the future. The 1990s were one such time. As the decade went on and the millennium drew closer, fear seemed to creep into the zeitgeist more and more – fear of the rapid transformation of society via computers and the internet, fear of the year 2000, fear of catastrophe and apocalypse. Many films and series produced at the time echoed this anxiety, perhaps most notably The X-Files. Its opening credits sequence is a perfect encapsulation of 90s paranoia.

The X-Files Intro (1993)

We see the same kind of paranoid futurism in much of the electronic music produced in this era. Records by The Orb, Meat Beat Manifesto, The Future Sound of London and others leaned into a dark, anxious tech-noir aesthetic, reflecting both the excitement and the fear surrounding rapid technological growth.

Dead Cities

ORBITAL — P.E.T.R.O.L — Paul and Phil Hartnoll

To this day, the paranoid aesthetic continues to thrive in electronic music. I find it works especially well within the realm of ambient techno, a genre characterized by hypnotic rhythms and atmospheric soundscapes. While the simple, repetitive beats in these tracks create a bedrock of comfort, paranoid vibes can be woven into the mix through the pads, reverberations, arpeggios and melodic loops.

Into the Maze

Andy Stott — Posers

Spore

This is the style that appeals to me the most – a manifestation of paranoia within an atmosphere of relative calm; a subtle soundscape suffused with creeping dread. I find this muted, surface-level exploration of fear to be incredibly captivating. Indeed, it gives me a sense of confidence – it reflects the anxiety I experience in my daily life, but in a way that is safe, comfortable, easy. It makes the anxiety feel less oppressive by recontextualizing it as a part of something beautiful.

What’s your hill to die on?

October 20, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 2 Comments

By Freshman Louisa Richardson

In the Blog’s continued exploration of controversial opinions, ace-reporter Louisa surveyed the Palm Valley scene and logged the following unpopular rants and raves. She had a good time. And she picked up a lot of sass.

A hill to die on is essentially a controversial opinion that you stand by. My fellow blogger Gil, in our class discussion of Controversy, used this phrase. It caught my ear. In order to unearth controversy, I decided to survey people, asking, “What’s your hill to die on?” Opinions these days are nothing short of controversial, whether it’s pineapple on pizza, or Donald Trump. The people have something to say. The middle/upper-school students and teachers, and my father, were all asked the simple question, “What’s your hill to die on?” (usually followed by an explanation of what the phrase means). These hills tended to fall into six categories: pop culture, politics, food, fashion, dogs, and school.

Unpopular Opinions on Pop

8th-grader Jack Edelstein and the rest of the Podcasting class take passionate issue with Taylor Swift–not a popular stance. Jack leads the podcasting flock with the following statement:

“Taylor Swift sucks[;] she dates every guy ever and is still obsessed with them! She blames them for everything, making 99% of her songs the same. She acts like the victim in every relationship she is in. She has been with every weird actor you can name, and she always acts like she was the victim in the relationship. . . . [And,] 99% of her music is unoriginal. It goes from sad, depressed, angry music to then Love-“I-found-another” relationship, and repeat. Lastly, her fanbase sucks.”

8th-grader Ethan Brooks from Podcasting adds:

“Kanye MADE Taylor Swift.”

Other unpopular opinions regarding popular culture include . . .

“Avatar was not that good.”

–My father

“Spotify is terrible; it makes it hard to provide money as a not-so-popular artist, as the platform rarely even showcases new artists!”

–Mr. Hesson, Math/Podcasting Teacher

“Paramount Plus is better than Netflix.”

–Elijah Berliner, freshman

“Elijah is wrong.”

–Brooklyn Hatrak, freshman

“Joe Jonas is a dweeb.”

–Ms. Maguire, English/Creative Writing Teacher

Several opinions surfaced about School . . .

“Poems should be abolished; they are useless in the learning curriculum.”

–Tony Ratner, 8th-grader

“Essays are useless, and don’t teach anything.”

–Jackie Padgett, 8th-grader

“Reading can be fun; you just have to find the right book.”

–Zoey Guess, 7th-grader

“The snack shack is overpriced.”

–Hudson, Jack, and, again, the rest of Podcasting Class

“PVS is the best!”

–Jerry Wang, senior

“Middle schoolers need to STAY IN THE MIDDLE SCHOOL!”

–Anais Lee . . . and the rest of the high school

Opinions on food were . . . interesting . . .

“String cheese with chocolate milk is delicious.”

–Ally Bankers, senior

“Fries are better with ranch than with a milkshake.”

–Coach J. Erenberg

“Mustard is better than ketchup, and there are no better Bob Dylan albums than THE Bob Dylan original.”
–Mr. Satterfield, History Teacher

“Fruits shouldn’t be in the dessert; if I am ordering a chocolate cake, and you give me cantaloupe on the side, I will be mad.”
–Abby Assefa, junior

“Vegan diets are just bad for you.”

–Zander Eaton, freshman

“Chocolate milk SHOULD come from brown cows.”

–Emerson Dunn, 6th-grader

People had strong opinions on fashion.

“Skinny jeans are ugly.”

–Lily Jones, junior

“Low rise jeans are actually the worst.”

–Morgan Richardson, 6th-grader

“High top Converse suck.”

–Olivia Puetz, freshman

And, while Grandma always said, “Don’t talk Politics at the dinner table,” we do.

“Banning books should be unneeded.”

–Addison Uhlhorn, 7th grade

“Donald Trump won.”
–Alex Kirov, 8th-grader

“The moon landing was fake.”

–Luke Sonderman, senior

“Asians aren’t yellow.”

–Edward Berg, 7th grade

A few of us had opinions about Dogs.

“Dogs should be allowed on the bed!”
–Ms. Zachik, English/Blog Teacher

“Chihuahuas are the worst dog breed; they are glorified rats. They serve no purpose in this world. When you have hunting dogs, and service dogs, Chihuahuas just shake. They all have three teeth and live forever. If there was one dog breed that had to go extinct, I would choose Chihuahuas. Chihuahuas should be banned.

–Emma Murdock, Middle-School Receptionist

And, finally, Coach offered a little compassion . . .

“I don’t think anyone should die on a hill.”

–Coach Erenberg

People sure do have a lot of opinions. Controversial or not, this was the most fun I have ever had surveying. Do you have a controversial opinion we missed? Add it to the comments.

Perfect . . . if only the ending were different

September 14, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org Leave a Comment

In R.F. Kuang’s recently released “satirical literary thriller”* Yellowface, the writing-workshop characters answer, “What’s a book that would be perfect if you could rewrite the ending?” I put the question to our bloggers, allowing them to include movies, TV series, and short stories in their replies.

*New York Times

**Spoiler Alert: Story endings will be revealed in the following commentaries on The Road, The Giver, The Flash, and The Parent Trap.
Blog Instructor Zachik

**Oliver Martinez rewrites The Road.**

The book The Road ends with the dad dying and the boy leaving with another family. Although it may be a strong ending, I personally believe that it would’ve been better if they ended up waking from a dream and waking up in a better place. Since the whole book in general is very sad, maybe this would’ve made it seem less depressing.

**Gil Maruvada adds to The Giver.**

I would end The Giver with Jonas waking up in the snow in the morning holding the child Gabriel at the bottom of the hill he rolled down, the sled and houses having been a hallucination of his addled mind. He would find some food to eat, and search for civilization while investigating the outside world and what happened; additionally, he would explore the boundaries of the civilization he left. Eventually Gabriel would return as a teen and see what had become of the civilization they had left behind and the infighting that had occurred, and it would philosophically reinforce the themes of the novel while addressing the complexities of revolution and changing society.

**Louisa Richardson advocates shortening The Flash TV series.**

A tv show that would be perfect without the ending is The Flash. I absolutely love superheroes and the first season of that show was literal perfection . . . . Although almost everyone hates it now, it was one of the best DC shows . . . . The casting was great; the CGI was good . . . , and the general premise was great. After season 5, I think everything went downhill. The cast got too big; the CGI was horrible, and the script was so repetitive. If I could change it, I’d probably just make it so that The Flash ended after season 5 but maybe without the random long lost daughter from the future part.

Indy Behr champions the villain of The Parent Trap (again).

I get why the twins’ father Nick chose them over his ex Meredith Blake, but I still wish that they hadn’t ended her story by having her storm off angrily. I don’t think she was the villain, which I wrote a blog article*** about. . . . I do not think this ending was appropriate.

*FYI: Blog class voted for Louisa’s rewrite. Which do you like? If given the chance, what story ending would you rewrite?

***“Why Lindsay Lohan’s ‘The Parent Trap’ is the Greatest Movie Ever Made and Often the Most Misunderstood” by Indiana Behr

A Clam Graduation

May 19, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 3 Comments

In this season of 5th-grade promotions, 8th-grade promotions, high-school graduations, and college graduations, of course we need to check in with Levi’s underwater friends to hear about . . . the clam graduation.

A bildungsroman by Levi Kassinove

Food poisoning is no joke. Deep in the waters of the North Atlantic ocean, a young clam by the name of Adam fights his impending diarrhea as he struggles to finish his AP Clamculus exam. Just a few more questions, I can hold it, he thinks as his stomach produces ungodly sounds that echo throughout the high school. His consciousness fades; Satan’s army knocks at his intestines, and finally he cannot bear it any longer. Forget the integrals. Adam rushes to the bathroom. By the time he gets back, there is 5 minutes left for the exam. He curses under his breath. I think someone put laxatives in my morning fruit shake.

When the exam finished, Adam went home, barely talking to anyone. He had just endured a silent yet excruciating battle, and nobody would ever know.

Later that day, Adam burrowed in the sand and isolated himself from humaniclamity. Was he worth anything? The school year is ending, and so is clam childhood. Soon all of his friends would be in college; most would never see each other again. And, yet, his friends chose to waste precious time on ClamTok every day, every morning, every break, and every lunch. They were consumed by consumerism. Adam felt dead inside. His clamgirlfriend loved him and made him happy, of course, but Adam cared about everyone. However, he felt as if few really cared about him. Would he be missed? In college, in old age, where are those who share the memories?

Adam dozed off. He resolved that he knows nothing, and that he will merely ride the waves of the ocean. That’s really all we can do.

“DUDE, IT’S CLAM GRADUATION DAY” Adam’s phone buzzed, awakening him just 10 minutes before school started. It was his friend Jerryclam. Adam decided that he would no longer be rotten. He would suck it up (because he’s a filter feeder after all) and get to class. When he arrived, none of his friends said “Hi” to him. None even looked up from their phones. His final assignments were piling up and he couldn’t find in the deepest part of his shell the motivation to finish them. The world was ending right before his very eyes. He had already sunk to the bottom of the ocean, yet somehow he felt as if he could still sink lower.

Finally, it was time for the graduation ceremony. It was underneath a kelp forest, brimming with marine society. High above the ceremony, seahorses danced among the seaweed. A school of tuna contorted, twisted, gyrated, transformed, and molded into various 3-dimensional shapes. A squid shot its ink in the face of a small shark, and an octopus blended in perfectly with the seaweeds. Dolphins slapped and tossed a pufferfish through the air, like in a game of catch or football. Light shown in an extremely particular way through the kelp, creating a viridescent glow upon the ocean floor. But in between the kelp was a certain slant of light that reflected only off the shell of Adam. This spotlight on Adam was almost mocking, teasing, inviting him to enjoy the ceremony, inviting him to join in.

The senior class of 2024 gathered underneath the kelp. Adam was indifferent. The universe is one big ocean, with waves crashing onto you every second. He could care less about graduating. Each clam was called one by one, donning their black cloaks and wearing those square caps, to get their diplomas. Adam’s name was called. But, before he went off, his friend Christopher pulled him aside. “Hey, are you okay? I know I’ve been somewhat distant, and I’m sorry.Maybe after school we can play video games?”

Adam smiled. It was the second time he had felt any happiness that day, since Jerryclam texted him. As he took a picture with the Head of School, holding his diploma, a pearl suddenly materialized in his shell!

Adam knew at that moment that everything was going to be okay. He happily flapped his shell home. As he was approaching his crater in the sand, he got caught in a net. All of his newfound feelings of joy and revival disappeared like an octopus escaping a predator.

A few hours later, Adam was being served in a lovely garlic pasta in an upscale Italian restaurant. At least he wasn’t rotten.

How Bad My World Would Be Without Marley

May 18, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org Leave a Comment

Here at The Bird on Fire, we toyed with the idea “What if ________ was erased?” What if your best friend never was? What if home disappeared? What if the “missing link” went missing? What if Tucker Carlson was canceled? Jess looks to her beloved Marley and highlights life with her favorite Chihuahua.

By Junior Jess Billimore

This is Marley.

As you can see, she is very charming.

I have had Marley for just over two years now and my world would implode without her.

To begin with, as you have already seen, Marley is stunning.

I mean who wouldn’t want to wake up to that face?

Marley is very caring also. Whenever I’m having a bad day, she knows and takes care of me. She does this by bringing me toys, being extra silly, licking my tears and giving me extra love and cuddles.

She’s also a very intimidating guard dog. Marley is an expert at scaring away flies and other insects, and frightening objects such as La Croix cans. I probably wouldn’t be alive without her protection.

In addition, Marley is absolutely hilarious. She loves playing with bottle caps, leaves, and her favorite toy Lamby. She is so funny when she plays with them because she acts like they are trying to attack her. She also makes the silliest faces sometimes. My personal favorite is when her top lip gets stuck on her teeth (this happens a lot when she’s sleeping).

Marley is very social! She has lots of best friends and is loved by many. Marley impacts the world of even those who don’t know her as they stop to say “Hi,” and I know for a fact that the memory of Marley sticks with them for life.

All in all, Marley is my world, and I can’t imagine my life without her!

Several Deep Sea Journeys; Volume 3, Episode 8: The Retrieval

May 9, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 2 Comments

By Special Guest Blogger and Math Teacher Extraordinaire, Mr. Eric Hesson

Note: The following is a work of fiction written with no regard for scientific accuracy. The technical terminology used is meaningless nonsense included because it sounded nice.
Mr. Hesson

Commander Jechtus Appleberry floated above the seabed, eyeing the makeshift contraption.

“Set axial ray to drop at 1.4 lithometers.”

Lead Engineer Pepper Marshelina was at his side, gripping a stabilizing rod for support as she tapped commands into the console.

“Copy, ax to drop at one-four.”

“Stabilize revert cable.”

“Stabilizing… cable set.”

“Alright. Initialize retrieval protocol in 3… 2… 1… NOW.”

Pepper flipped a switch and the mobile generator rumbled to life. Power flowed to the junction and the retrieval cage dropped through the fissure and plummeted into the abyss. Jechtus sighed with relief.

“Keep an eye on degradation. We can’t afford to lose this one.”

“Copy. Holding so far. Pressure’s reading at ten off max.”

Their eyes were fixed on the monitors, scanning the data as it poured in, parsing for anomalies. A soft thump echoed from below.

“Axial ray in place. Continuing descent.”

The generator’s hum seemed to grow louder, wailing against the silence of the sea.

“You like pancakes?”

“What?”

“Flapjacks. You know. Hot off the griddle. Sopping with butter.”
“Respectfully, sir, I… don’t really have an opinion.”

“You don’t like them?”

‘I’m not sure I’ve had them.’

“What? Really?”
“I’ve had crepes.”

“Ew, what? No. I’m talking rich buttermilk hotcakes! Stacked up and slathered in syrup!”

Pepper shook her head. The light from her helmet swiveled across the seafloor, illuminating hosts of strange fungi in the distance.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to hector you. I’m just homesick. We’ve been out here so long. I retreat into my memories. Breakfast on a summer morning. Fixing coffee for my mother while she doted on her swans. Pancakes…”

“I’ll have to try some. If we make it back.”
“When.”

“Right…”

The cable snapped tight. The cage had completed its descent.

“Contact?”

“Positive.”

“Ok. Let’s bring it in.”

Pepper flipped another switch on the control array, and sixty fathoms below them the gripping clamp jutted from its casing, slid toward the target, and clenched its mechanical fist.

“Clamp is locked. We have the artifact.”

Pepper turned to face him and they shared a smile, squinting in each others’ lamplight. But her eyes were pulled upward by a distant trick of light, a swaying glint upon the darkness…

They felt it then, a pressure bearing down through the waters. And with it a sound, a deep and heavy groan.

The pressure intensified. Something was moving, something close. And then it caught the light, and they saw it – a tentacle, of incomprehensible size, hurtling down from above. It passed mere meters from their post… and slammed into the seafloor, knocking up a massive torrent of debris and rocketing the surveyors helplessly out into the void.

*The Bird on Fire welcomes guest submissions–especially from teachers.

The Void

May 3, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 1 Comment

What if your home town suddenly was “erased”? Louisa takes us into the void.

A Fictional Imagining By Middle-School Blogger Louisa Richardson

When I drove home from Nebraska that day, I didn’t think it would have been any different than the usual commute home for Christmas. I was thinking about Aunty Sharon, about the last time I saw her. As I drove, it struck me – the population of Red-ton County was getting smaller and smaller. I realized there were no cars at all, no people either. I started to worry, until I saw the familiar blinking blue light on in the Red-ton County Library. It was reassuring, . . . until it grew brighter, and brighter. And then it was gone.

I had closed my eyes because of the brightness of the blue light, and when I opened my eyes, I saw nothing, and everything all at once.

I stepped out of the car and walked into the bright blinding lights; it was all white, and void-like. I immediately picked up my cell to call my parents, but when I looked through my contacts, there was no one there. Aunty Sharon, my sister, my two brothers, my parents, no one living in Red-ton County was on my list of contacts. It was as though they had all disappeared into this sort of void–with my entire home town. I turned around to look for an exit, but there was nothing there. The closer I got to the space through which I entered this void, the further that space drifted away.

This was the moment that I started to freak out. Everything was gone. At first I was confused, then I got angry. The void grew into a sort of white room, with blinding white paint that you couldn’t touch because every time you started near the walls they got further and further away. The white void went on forever; it seemed to be endless. I tried searching for an escape. Time passed; time elapsed; my hair grew out until it touched my hips. Eventually I gave up. I sat, and hugged my knees close, rocking back and forth. That’s when the chanting started. “Gone far away” was all I heard, the same three words over and over again. The voices were what made me regain the strength to get out of there. I hadn’t eaten, drunk, or slept. I still don’t know how I managed to survive. I got up and started running towards anything, anything other than the blinding white light that seemed to be everywhere, surrounding me. I finally found a door after running in the same direction until the void just couldn’t grow anymore. I don’t know if it appeared or if it had always been there, or if it was even real. I didn’t go through it immediately. I paused. I hesitated. I didn’t know if I would find a giant black void, or more white. I waited, until the voices began to morph into the words “Go.” I finally opened the door. I walked out.

Then, promptly I collapsed. Whatever happened next, I don’t remember. I drifted in and out of consciousness; people poked at my eyes, and injected me with medications I couldn’t pronounce. I finally woke up days later; I was out of it, but I remember the happiness I felt when I finally saw another living being. The doctor said that I was in a bad condition, dehydrated, suffering from weight loss. He said it looked like I had been stranded somewhere for years. I remember him muttering to the nurse, “I don’t get it, she seemed fine last week.” My brain began to scramble; I tried to think of my life before the void, my family. I could barely remember the memories I tried so hard to never forget. The doctor looked at me with concern. He later revealed that I had come in for a doctor’s appointment the week before, but I had no recollection of it. As far as I was concerned, I had been stuck in that void for more than a year and a half. That’s about the amount of time it takes to grow your pixie cut to your knees. But that’s not what the nurses said. I tried to explain it to all of them; they just never got it. They said that Red-ton didn’t exist. My neighbors said that I went away for a day, and they heard that I was in the hospital something like an hour later. It didn’t make sense. Did time pass differently here? Do I have any family? As soon as I was released, I searched for clues. I followed the road to Aunt Sharon’s house, and there was nothing there. I must have retraced my steps a thousand times. I tried to unscramble the days spent in the void. Nothing was working. I was so desperate, I called a therapist. She didn’t believe me either. A few months later, the nightmares started. I was back in the void; I had never escaped. I woke up screaming every night after that. No one seemed to believe me. I barely believed myself anymore.

After that the police came to my house and took me in for questioning. Apparently after every one of my neighbors reported me for “odd activity” it seemed the only reasonable option for the cops. Since there was so much evidence that I was crazy, they put me in some mental institution for the “intellectually disturbed.” Life went on for everyone but the victims of the void. They were gone. Towards “the end,” I had no memories of a life outside of the white nothingness. Eventually, I became engulfed in the memories of the void, unable to think of anything but the bright lights. Tortured in a trap of my own mindset.

The End