Mitch Rodriguez, In-School Suspension

Mitch sat back in his hard, uncomfortable wooden chair and began to crack his knuckles with a smirk. He knew that the sound irritated the teacher sitting outside the in-school suspension room, as it was called by teachers, and the Torture Room, as it was known by the students.

Most people had never set foot inside this room. Mitch had had the pleasure of setting foot in it not once, but enough times for the headmistress and co-ordinator to recognize him at first sight and flinch, as if wondering how a boy who got straight A's in his tests could serve suspension innumerable times without feeling sorry, or guilty, or regretful at all.

He glanced down at the notebook in front of him. It had a neat, navy blue cover, with a white label stuck on it, saying Mitch Rodriguez, In-School Suspension. Mitch was definitely the kind of student who visited the room enough times to qualify for a notebook specially for the purpose, instead of the usual white A4 sized sheets given for the 'one visit' students.

With a sigh, Mitch opened up his book and began to write. He had been lucky this time. He had gotten into far worse punishments before this. He had even been to an expulsion hearing once, after getting into in-school suspension twice a month. He had been forgiven that time, and had only received a warning. 

This time, he just had to write the same line over and over, five hundred times. He personally thought it was a waste of time, since he could just say it. Mitch tried imagining the conversation he would have with his parents when he got home.

Mitch walks into the living room, a hopefully regretful expression on his face, his head down.

Mom: Oh, Mitch.
Dad: What did you do this time, son?

Mitch: It's, uh, no biggie. (charming smile)

Mom: Not another fight!
Dad: What did the other guy do? Who was it this time?

Mitch: It was Joey. He called me…a…name. 

Mom: Oh, Mitch.
Dad: It was just a name, son. He was probably just having fun.

And so on and so forth.

He blinked his eyes and frowned. It wasn't very bad, since he hadn't caused Joey any serious injury. He just had to sit in here for one day and then he'd be out. No time at all!
Mitch checked his watch and glared it after reading the time. Only another six hours to go.

Just another day in the life of Mitch Rodriguez.

Z for Zazzy

A shriek rang out from the living room.

"Leonardo Alvarez! What are you wearing!?" 

A small girl hurriedly stumbled out of the living room, a large pile of toys in her arms. At the same moment, an older woman sighed, got up from the comfortable rocking chair in her room, and began to walk toward the noise.

As she walked in, another shriek came,

"Mamá! See! Look at the state in which my son is in! I have brought him up with so much love, so much care, and see what happens to him! This is how his friends have influenced him, Mamá!" a middle-aged woman standing in the middle of the room, her cheeks flushed, screamed.

"Emilia. Peace," the old lady replied with an exasperated look,"he is only a boy. Do not act as if the world is about to end, my dear."

Emilia blushed and shut her mouth, but continued to glare at the teenage boy standing in one corner of the room, looking indignant.

"Abuela, I am not going to wear the clothes Mamá set out for me! I am simply going to the movies and she gives me a shirt, not a t-shirt, a shirt, and black pants and a tie! A tie for going to the movies! I ask you!" he said, his deep brown eyes shining with anger.

"Leo, I agree that a tie is not suitable for going to the movies, but perhaps what you are wearing right now is a bit too, ahem, noticeable, maybe?" the old woman asked, looking at what her grandson was wearing and barely stifling a smile.

Leo crossed his arms and stepped out to the middle of the living room.

"What's wrong with my clothes, Abuela?"

The old lady surveyed his attire with amusement. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a bright red message printed in block letters:WANNA FIGHT? BRING IT ON!! with a white skull in the middle, dripping blood. He was wearing regular dark-blue jeans with bright neon green sneakers and on top of that he was wearing a camouflage jacket with what looked like splodges of different shades of green splashed on it.

"It's the fashion, Abuela! It's called being zazzy!"

Y for Yen

Ernest sat down on the footpath, his back against the wall of the shop which read 'James Antiques'. He had always liked antiques, and besides, this position gave him a good view of everything. Not that it mattered, of course. He used to like to come to this very place, to look around at all the happy families, and would fantasize about belonging to one of them.

Now he knew better than to even hope that he would ever have any relation with those families. He was a street kid, and would always have to fend for himself. Somehow.

Leaning back to make himself more comfortable, he focused his attention on the McDonalds opposite to him. It was just a takeaway place, but many people got the food and then sat on the benches beside it.

One man got what looked like a Quarter Pounder with Cheese and a huge amount of fries. He also got a large ice tea. Ernest stared at this huge meal with yen. He hadn't managed to get any breakfast and he was ravenous. Anyway, it was quite probable that the man wouldn't even finish his food and would throw half of it in the bin.

The man caught sight of Ernest staring at his food and gave him a disgusted look.

"Oi! Kiddo! Run off and stop looking so…so….so yearning, will you?" he shouted loudly across the footpath.

Time seemed to come to a halt. Everybody walking on the footpath turned around and looked at him. Most of them looked away, but one lady gave him a pitiful expression. She took out a twenty dollar bill from her tiny purse and slowly walked toward him.

"Hello, sweetie. Here you go, just take this and buy yourself something good to eat, okay?" she said, trying to hand over the money.

"No, ma'am, it's really kind of you, but I don't really borrow money, okay? Just leave me alone," he said, pushing the money back into her hand and looking away.

The lady, looking shocked, turned around and walked away.

For a second, Ernest felt furious. Why had he rejected the lady's offer?

The next moment, he had a strange sense of calm. 

No point in being angry, Ernest. What the lady had offered him would last for barely a day, and then what're you going to do?All you're gonna do is sit here, be useless and yearn for something you'll never be able to get… 

X for X

Ross darted through the snow covered alleyway, pulling his hat low over his eyes. He looked around to make sure nobody was looking, and then quickly ran into the shop, grabbed a meat pie off the shelf and ran out again. 

Wrapping the meat pie securely in a handy piece of fairly clean cloth which had just come out of his coat pocket, he began walking toward what he was quite sure was the southern side of the city, the place where he could rest and eat his food in peace.

As he neared the abandoned building where he usually took refuge, he took out the pretend key he had crafted out of paper, making sure to purposefully turn it in the keyhole before opening the door.

He settled himself down on the floor and leaned onto the cupboard which had proved to be an able backrest. He took out the meat pie and had a big bite out of it, holding the cloth under it to make sure that nothing spilled.

How had he come to this? Spending a good month out on the streets, praying that the police wouldn't catch him? From being one of the most respected detectives in town, to being forgotten by everybody and becoming a thief himself?

It was all because of that Hazel Rodriguez. Framing him for the theft of the diamond necklace, causing all of his friends and family to break ties with him and make him look like  a fool! However, a question always rang out in his mind…how had Hazel managed to get a picture which looked exactly like him burgling the jewelry shop in the midst of the night?

He had always presumed it to be a PhotoShopped picture, but he was sure Hazel couldn't have had a picture of him, and besides, she wouldn't resort to such simple methods.

In all his days on the streets, if anybody asked him for his name, he always replied with a code name, 'X'. After all, X was a variable, wasn't it? For an unidentified, dangerous man(supposedly), it was the perfect name.

A loud banging began on the door. Ross immediately jumped up, all of his attention on the door.

"Open in the name of the law, X! We know you're in there, and we know that you've stolen more than a dozen products from more than ten different shops" said a loud, purposeful voice from outside the door.

Dan! That was Dan, he was sure of it! Dan had always been one of his staunch supporters…but now…nobody had a clue where he was and those who did, knew him as the criminal, X. Overcome with a sense of nostalgia, he turned around, smooth as a cat, and almost tip-toeing, ran out of the house. One day, he would prove that he was innocent…one day.

W for Webster

"Mrs. Ferguson! Mother's asking whether you can finish this by next week Monday!"

"Melissa, could you please do this one for me, there's a dear now,"

"Aunty Mel! Please could you complete this one by the day after tomorrow? It's for my school function, you see?"

"Hi, Mrs. Ferguson. Please finish this one by tomorrow."

Questions and water droplets rained down on her as she recalled all the promises she had made while running through the wet, slushy mud. She would most probably regret it, but she had a whole week to complete most of them. Of course, she would have to complete Bernadette's by the next day but she would have quite a lot of time to complete the rest.

By this time, she had reached her small cottage and wrenching open the door handle, she went inside. 

In barely a few minutes, she had settled herself down on her cosy armchair and spread out her working materials on the table. 

Bernadette had supplied her with some gorgeous yellow taffeta to make a gown for the upcoming party in town. In her opinion, taffeta was a little too fancy but it would do for a gown, she supposed. 

She began to sew the main part of the dress, adding on a hem, and almost full sleeves. After around an hour and a half of hard whorl, she had finished the main dress. Now it was time for her favorite part; the decorations.

She took a bunch of yellow ribbons and began to fasten them around the sleeves and collar. She finished the task and then surveyed the dress with a critical eye. It was neat but looked quite plain. Perhaps she would embroider the bottom part of the dress.

Another half hour later, she held up the dress, satisfied. The bottom part of the dress was covered in roses of all colors and deep green leaves. It looked quite pretty without too much frippery, and that was exactly what she liked.

Lily had asked whether she could complete a deep purple frock with lace. She had also wanted something for her hair.

Melissa leaned back and closed her eyes, ideas rushing through her head like a river with a strong current. She sighed in contentment. The life of a webster was peaceful and it was spent making others happy…and that was exactly what she liked.

V for Vaunty

She strutted down the brightly lit corridor, hand on her hip. Smirking at her fans, who were lined up along the corridor, she waved a perfectly manicured hand. Her long, shiny, black  hair cascaded down her shoulders in perfectly spaced out waves and her bright, green eyes had the look of triumph that most popular girls' eyes had. 

In some ways, Nicole wished she could be more like Jenni Howard. The most popular girl in the school, Jenni had won over a fifty medals and cups for the school in various competitions. She was always nice and sweet to her friends and well-behaved to her teachers. She was well dressed and had a great fashion sense.

However, there were some disadvantages to being Jenni Howard. She was only nice and sweet to her friends, for example. She had been quite mean to a few of Nicole's friends more than once and bullied the younger kids by calling them tiny and silly.

Nicole stepped out of her place in the neatly organized line, and assumed a position in the middle of the corridor, blocking kids going to their classes. Blocking Jenni. As Jenni and her sidekicks approached, Jenni stopped smirking and began to frown instead.

"Hey, get out of the way. We're going to our classes, can't you see?" Jenni said loudly.

"Yeah, I can see quite clearly, thanks. Um, Mrs. Johnson asked for your chart. She wanted to, uh, exhibit it in the Science exhibition," Nicole said with a smug smile,"but I can see that you don't want to, ahem, so never mind."

Saying so she stepped back to the side of the corridor.

"Um…" Jenni replied, clearly thinking hard. "You can't just block students going to their classes, you know? But, just this once I'll forgive you and give you what you want."

Jenni handed over a bright pink chart with information written on it with a gold metallic pen. Nicole looked at it for a second and then gave a disdainful look at Jenni. 

"Huh. Well, okay. I'm not sure Mrs. Johnson'll be too happy with it but never mind, we'll see, okay?" she said jeeringly.

"Okay, yeah, whatever," Jenni muttered, looking furious.

Nicole turned around and began walking down the corridor. One step higher with Project: Disbanding Popular Girl. 

U for Unalterable

"Vicki Owen! Please come and seat yourself inside the waiting room," a loud, foreboding voice called out from behind the dull, grey colored door.

Vicki got up with a breathy little sigh and started to walk to the door. She tried opening it in vain and then stood aside for somebody else to open it instead. She took the hand of the man who had just opened it and trotted inside with a determined look.

As soon as she had gotten inside, she flashed a smile at every single person in the room, making sure that everybody could see her, and pointed at a scruffy little boy, who was snuffling into his teddy bear. He immediately sat up, his back straight and his teddy bear forgotten. 

She pointed to the floor and he got off the chair, looking disappointed. Nobody murmured when she clambered up onto the chair and then pointed to the floor again. The boy sat on the floor and began to suck his thumb.

Her family always said that she had a way of making people listen to her. It was a shame that she could never make them listen to her. They were, sadly, immune to her charms.

"Papa!" Vicki called, with a grim look on her face, her usually twinkling grey eyes stern.

"Yes, darling?" the man she had walked in with asked.

"Papa, do I have to go? It's not compolusery, is it?" she asked with the all the charms of a four year old girl.

"Yes, sweetie, you do," her father replied, running a hand through his shiny red hair.

She began to sulk and stared straight ahead at a new door, with a shiny gold handle. She liked that handle. Perhaps she would ask her father for one. 

"Vicki Owen! Please come in!" the foreboding voice called from inside.

She got up and smoothed down the folds of her dress. Her carefree childhood was over. The future was unalterable. She would have to go to school.

T for Temptation

Shirley stood in front of the big, red signboard in her oversized purple jacket. She sighed, as if to indicate that the impossible would never happen,and rotated so that her back was facing the signboard, but then turned back around. Perhaps just once, for the last time… what could happen? 

Thinking so, she entered Pizza Hut with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. She confidently walked straight to the counter, her curly brown hair bouncing up and down.

"Hello, Ms. Hawks! What can we get for you today?" the friendly counter lady asked.

"Oh, please, Naomi! You know me too well to call me Ms. Hawks anymore! It's Shirley! Anyways, I think I'll have a Hawaiian, small please! Make sure there's enough pineapple, eh?" Shirley replied, hands clenched into fists with the thought of a delicious, cheesy pizza with the best toppings that were invented. "How much is it?"

"$10.90, please,Ms. Haw-Shirley!" Naomi replied, grinning.

Shirley handed over a ten dollar note with a few coins and asked in anticipation,

"How much time will it take?"

"Around ten minutes, Shirley, just wait for a bit, okay?" Naomi said. "You can sit down and wait till then, okay?"

Shirley nodded and slowly walked to one of the tables in the corner and sat down.

In around ten minutes, just as Naomi had said, the pizza arrived. Shirley waved away the waiter and stared in delight at the beautiful pizza. She immediately tore away a slice, disregarding the heat, and bit into it.  

Ah, the thick, tangy cheese, the sweet, golden pineapple, the succulent ham…all of them seemed to hit her like a blow to her stomach. Delicious….

She finished in two minutes flat and, pushing out her chair, ran out of the restaurant.

As soon as she got outside, a hand landed on her shoulder. She swiveled around, to find a middle aged man with an untidy mop of black hair and a very cross face.

"Shirley! You are not supposed to be spending your precious pocket money on buying a pizza from one of the unhealthiest places in the country, and you know that! What did you think you were doing?" he said loudly and angrily.

Prising his big hands off her shoulder with her considerably smaller ones, she looked up at him and made a sad face, with her eyes wide open.

"What can I say, Papa? It was temptation, that was all!"

S for Scopophobia

"Candy! Sweetie, the guests are here! Come on out, quickly!" my mother shouted from the living room of my two floored house.

I clattered down the stairs as fast as I could and ran into the living room to confront my mother and the undoubtedly boring guests.

"Candy, this is my college mate from almost twenty years back. We've somehow managed to keep in touch," my mother said, with her arm around the stranger,"and I'm very glad we did! She was an amazing friend!"

"Hm, really?" I replied, raising my eyebrows and trying to look interested.

But my attention was on the tall girl behind my mother's friend. She looked very shy, and kept her gaze on the vase of flowers on the living room table.

"Candace, this is my daughter, Harriet, Harriet Mendoza. She's your age," my mother's friend said, noticing my curious expression.

Presuming her surname from what she had just said, I looked at her and smiled the most charming smile I could produce.

"Mrs.Mendoza, how about you and Mom go and chat for a little time? I'm sure you have a lot to catch up on, so you could just leave me and Harriet for a short while, to get to know each other," I said, making my voice as persuasive as I could.

"What a brilliant idea, Candy! We'll go, then," my mother said, taking a rather doubtful looking Mrs. Mendoza by the hand and dragging her out of the room, looking relieved.

As soon as I was sure they had gone, I turned around and smiled at Harriet.

"Hi, I'm Candace, as I'm sure you already know, but everyone calls me Candy 'cause I really love lollipops! Yeah, I know lollipops are for kids and all, supposedly, but I totally adore them!" I exclaimed, trying not to overwhelm her with my excitement to have a girl my age to talk to. "Please do have a seat!"

"Hi, I'm Harriet, and everyone calls me Harriet because I don't really have any special interests, I suppose," Harriet replied, tucking her blonde fringe behind her ear, and sitting down, looking terrified.

"Hey, are you okay? You look a little worried. Is everything okay?" I asked, thinking what an understatement that was.

"Uh, nothing," Harriet replied, her blue eyes wide and scared, still keeping her gaze on the flower vase.

"Okay…anyways, you said that you, um, didn't have any interests, yeah? I'm sure you do. Just you wait, I'll come up with a nickname for you in no time!" I said enthusiastically. "Let's see…do you like sports?"

"Well, they're okay, I guess," Harriet replied, her voice the opposite of mine.

"Art?"

"No."

"Reading, maybe?"

"Definitely not."

The conversation continued for a while like this, with Harriet's monosyllabic, flat-voiced answers and her apparent fascination with the flower vase until I gave up. She looked so petrified, with sweat shining across her brow, that I grew sick of trying to have conversation with her.

"Maybe you'd like a choco chip cookie?" I asked, making a valiant attempt at breaking the awkward silence.

"No, it's fine," Harriet said, her voice suddenly become high-pitched.

I blushed with a sudden thought. Was it me that was making her feel uncomfortable? Was I scaring her in some way? I looked at the flower vase as well and decided to lengthen the silence.

In a few minutes, my mother and Mrs. Mendoza reentered the room.

"We'll have to go now, Candace. Sorry we're leaving so early," Mrs. Mendoza said, looking cheery.

She walked out the front door, beckoning to Harriet. Harriet clumsily stood up and jogged after her mother. My mother followed them, smiling rather nervously.

As soon as they had all got out of the front door, Mrs. Mendoza said in a most un-cheery voice,

"Betty, I hope your daughter realized that Harriet is not comfortable to talk to strangers. She suffers from scopophobia and I hope that Candace did not try to make unnecessary conversation!"

"Candy!!!!"

Uh-oh.

R for Ricochet

Charlie knew that she should have never let her daughter talk her into it. Why had she agreed to do something she was completely inexperienced at? Why had she agreed when she knew that she would make a fool of herself? Why????

"Hey, Mom, we're supposed to wait over there, at the drinks' stand. Come on, let's go over," Olivia Sanders told her mother, looking a little puzzled at her mother's horrified expression.

"Ollie, I can't do this. I'm just a beginner at badminton; we're gonna lose, sweetie," she replied, feeling guilty as she imagined her daughter's disappointed face.

It never came. Her daughter gave her the Look and sighed.

"Really, Mom? Really?" her daughter said in a disgusted tone.

Those three words shut her up. She was not going to disappoint her daughter. She was going to try her best and win the tournament, making her daughter proud somehow.

"Alright, come on, then. Let's go over, okay?" Charlie said resignedly and led the way to the waiting area.

As soon as she reached, she spotted a sign which stated all of the team members' names and in which order they were going to play. She looked for her and her daughter's opponents and groaned. 

"Ollie! We're against Violet and Vanessa Cooper! Violet's been training in badminton for way longer than I have! We have no chance against them!" she gasped out, shaking her head.

"Mom! Mom, calm down! Nobody stands a chance against the Sanders' ferocity, okay? Mrs.Cooper's backhand shots are really weak so you need to go for her left side. Meanwhile, Vanessa is horrible at moving around the court and stuff, so when you hit a shot to her, place the shuttlecock really well. Every opponent has a weakness, Mom," Olivia replied, sounding amused.

Charlie was just about to answer when an announcement rang out, echoing around the huge, air-conditioned, indoor court.

"Charlotte and Olivia Sanders against Violet and Vanessa Cooper! Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the first match of the day!" 

Charlie grabbed Olivia with her free hand and walked to the court, feeling very trembly inside. 

"Hey, Charlie! Hey, Ollie! Good luck, guys!" Mrs.Cooper called out from the other side of the court.

And then she served.

As the game progressed, Charlie stopped feeling nervous. Badminton was her thing! She wasn't going to lose in the game she loved! Ten minutes passed and the audience were at a standstill. The score was 20-19 and it was her turn to serve. She swung the racket and it hit the shuttlecock. It flew in a wide arc…reached Vanessa…got hit back…to her left side.

She closed her eyes and held out her racket, hoping that the shuttlecock would just ricochet back. Five, four, three, two, one…ping! As she heard the sound of the shuttlecock hitting her racket, her eyes flew open.

Vanessa leaped forward to try to hit it back…and missed. Charlie put on a sympathetic face and shook their opponents' hands along with Olivia but as soon as they turned away she grabbed her daughter into a bear hug.

"Nobody can match the Sanders' ferocity, eh, Ollie?" she said, ruffling her daughter's hair.

Her daughter rolled her eyes and said,"We still have three more matches to go,Mom,"

Could somebody please remind her why she was doing this?

Q for Quean

"No, Mommy! I am not going for my piano exam and that is that! Unless you wish to drag me out and create a scene, I am not coming! How dare you sign me up for it without telling me! How dare you!" said Rosabelle Diane Hope, stamping her foot on the floor and shaking her head at her mother, Annabella Hope, a gentle woman who certainly did not deserve this little bundle of terror to torment her forever.

"Please, dear, come for your exam. I have paid quite a lot of money just so that you could do this, you know? And I have reminded you, multiple times, that your exam was coming up. Besides, your teacher says that you are coming along marvelously so there is really no need to worry, darling," Mrs.Hope replied, looking at the Rolls Royce parked outside there front gate a little nervously,"and please come quickly, the driver will leave any moment."

Rosabelle sighed at her mother's apparent stupidity and turned around, as if to walk back into the house. 

"Rose! Rose, please! You have to come! Must I call your father to come back home from work early? He will not be pleased, will he now?" Mrs.Hope said, her voice getting very high and worried.

"Really, Mommy? I am not coming. I do not care whether Daddy is upset or not, but I am not coming!!!!!" Rosabelle exclaimed with another stamp. "I would prefer to go back inside!"

At this point of this argument, the driver had gotten out of the car to see what was going on.  Mark Simmons, a simple, honest man had gone through the trials of raising a fussy little girl and was quite experienced with this sort of thing. He walked up to the front door and smiled at the pair. 

"Hello, Mrs.Hope, and hello, little miss! Why's this takin' so much time, then, hmm?" he asked cheerily, looking mainly at Rosabelle.

"Hello, Mr. Simmons. Please mind your own business," Rosabelle said crisply to him and looked back at her mother to continue the argument.

"Hey, hey, hey, little miss. Calm down, now. Alright, as far as I can see, you're refusing to go for your piano exam, am I right?" Mark replied as sternly as he could.

Rosabelle hesitantly nodded at him, looking confused.

"Okay…fine! You can stay here while your mother goes and does your piano exam for you! She'll probably get more marks than you anyway! Yeah, 'cause she's got way more common sense than you, little miss!" he said triumphantly.

Rosabelle looked at him, amazed. And then she turned around and looked at her mother. 

"What rubbish is he talking about, Mommy?!" she asked indignantly.

"Well, dear, perhaps it does make sense. I mean, you are adamant about not coming, right?"

Saying so, Mrs. Hope turned around and began to walk toward the car. Mark followed her, a smug smile on his face. Rosabelle looked after them for a moment, gaped, and then ran after them after making sure that she had her bag slung over her shoulder.

She overtook them, opened the car door, and slid inside, a resigned expression on her face.

"A bit of a quean, ain't she, ma'am?" Mark muttered into Mrs.Hope's ear, grinning.

Mrs.Hope looked at him with an expression similar to Rosabelle's and got into the car next to her daughter. 

P for Passionate

"C'mon, boys! All hands on deck! Quickly, now, before the storm gets worse, eh?" shouted Aaron Quinn, very slightly struggling to keep his balance on the slippery, rocking surface he was standing on.

A group of approximately ten men came running onto the deck of the large lifeboat, wearing bright yellow plastic coats which stood out in the dreary, grey background.

"What's up,Mr.Quinn, sir? Is something wrong or what?" said Peter Ashford, one of the few teenagers  on the island who actually wanted to do something about the people needing help at sea. "Have you found something, then?"

"Listen, Ashford. I've been doing this almost my whole life and guess what? I have never just found something without looking for it," the ship's captain replied crisply,"I want to get this done fast. I've put my second-in-command at the ship's controls but he can't manage for long so I need to say some stuff. Important stuff."

Here he paused and looked around at the earnest faces around him. He smiled in pride, observing their strong and determined posture. These men were good men and they would most probably change the world and make it better, starting from rescuing people at sea.

"All of you lot have come here and chosen to be part of the island's rescue team because you've got passion! Every single one of you is passionate about helping people, I bet! As a matter o'fact, I bet it's one of your most favorite things in the world, innit?! Now come on, we're gonna save those people and we're gonna save them today!"

All of the team cheered, many of them patting the people standing next to them on the back. The next moment, a huge wave hit the boat, causing all of them to lurch sideways.

"Oi, enough of the sentimental catch-up! Brace yourselves!" Aaron shouted, alarmed at the size of the wave. "This storm's only gonna get worse-"

Another wave slammed the boat, the force of it so strong that it caused him to slip and fall onto the deck, putting most of the force on his hands and jarring them. A pair of strong hands pulled him up again and he turned around to find Peter. He nodded at him and wordlessly gestured at the wheelhouse, where the binoculars were.

Both of them began running towards the wheelhouse. Fear made them run faster and in around thirty seconds, they were wrenching the door open. Looking through the binoculars, Aaron ran a hand through his grey hair and groaned.

"I'm seeing something orange out there, Ashford. Tell me it's not a dinghy, please," he said softly, his voice cracking.

Peter picked up the binoculars and looked through them. Then he turned towards Aaron, his face grey.

"It is a dinghy, sir. And it's got four people on it. It's got kids on it!" Peter replied, looking like his life had just become twice as difficult, which it probably had as a matter of fact.

Aaron shook his head, but deciding to try rescuing them anyway, he ran to the back of the wheelhouse and picked up a rope and a few flashlights. He tossed Peter a rope and a flashlight as well and ran back outside.

"Listen up, y'all! Keep the boat under control, alright? We've spotted the missing family out there and we're gonna get them into the boat!" Aaron yelled as loudly as he could and walked to the edge of the deck, trying to keep his balance, and peered over the railing.

"Sir!? Please get us outa here quick! We can't hang onto the boat much longer!" one of the children, a teenage boy with dark hair, shouted to him.

The dinghy was just below the lifeboat now and it would have been fairly easy to maneuver them into the boat with the help of two ropes; if not for the weather. Peter unravelled the rope and let it down along the side of the boat. The youngest of the family, a small girl who couldn't had been more than seven, desperately clutched at the rope. She screamed as the dinghy rocked violently but managed to hang onto the rope and get a good grip on it.

Peter gradually pulled her up until she could clutch the railing of the boat and Aaron helped her onto the deck and shouted for one of the crew to get her below deck. They repeated this procedure for the rest of the family, with a little difficulty, and managed to get them all onto the boat. 

Aaron looked at Peter, dropped the rope onto the floor, and roughly tackled him into a hug.

"Life can't get any more difficult, mate," he said jovially into his neck.

O for Od

"Jonathan Anderson! Come here this instant!" Chloe screamed, surveying the scene before her.

There were open pizza boxes on the living room table, the sofa had greasy marks on it, there were three broken glasses on the floor, and the tablecloth of the dining table was stained.

"Yeah, Mom? What's up?" a teenage boy asked, coming into the living room and rubbing his eyes.

"I've told you multiple times that you must not have parties with your friends in the living room! In our living room! How dare you! I thought I could trust you and you disappoint me like this, hm?" she asked, her face turning redder every second.

"I…well…I thought that it would be okay to just do it for one night, Mom? C'mon, it's not that bad, is it…" he said, trailing off as he observed the mess in the room.

"Well, young man, I have had just about enough of this! You must make an od, which means an oath to never again have a party in this house again, specially since I will not be there tomorrow night, okay?" she briskly said with a flourish of her hand.

"Um, okay…" her son replied hesitantly, looking at the ground for some kind of some inspiration for this magnificent 'od'.

"Repeat after me," Chloe said,"I will never again have a party in this house again and betray my mother's trust. I will, in other words, be a good boy."

"I will never again have a party in this house and betray my mother's trust in other words I will be a good boy," Jonathan hurriedly said, "now may I leave?"

Without waiting for an answer, he bounded up the stairs two at a time and began to wrestle with his faulty door handle. Wrenching it open, he grabbed the telephone which was on his desk and dialed a number, his fingers moving like lightning. When he heard the beep which meant that it had been answered, he spoke into it with a smile,

"Hey, bro! My mom's not gonna be there tomorrow night! Tell the team to meet me tomorrow night, okay? Pizza, yo!"

N for Nymphology

She sat in the shade of the huge oak tree, dreamily looking into her reflection in the stream which was just beside the tree. The wind brushed against her cheek, and the leaves seemed to chuckle in contentment when, suddenly, a big leaf floated down and settled itself onto her reflection.

"I know you're doing that on purpose!" she said indignantly, flipping her fringe off her eyes. 
"I don't always look at my reflection!"

The tree behind her gave out a strange sigh and shuddered, before a beautiful apparition stepped out of it. The seemingly magical lady giggled and smoothed her hair down before beginning to talk.

"Oh, Nancy! You are getting quite conceited, you know! Remember, you vowed to protect us, not sit around in the shade of our trees and smile like a foolish, self-obsessed girl!" she said, with a breathy little cough.

Nancy rolled her green eyes and stood up, putting her hands on her hips.

"Nobody even comes here, Oak! I mean, in the 21st century, people are more interested in technology and parties and stuff than having a nice, sunny day in the woods! There's literally no point of me being here in the first place!" she huffed out.

The nymph smiled with a twinkle in her eyes. 

"Alright, then! You can stop coming here," she said smugly.

"Fine then, I will!" Nancy shouted back, turning around and beginning to walk back to the city.

The nymph looked at the retreating back of the girl and softly groaned. Why did she always have to tease them so much that they got fed up of her? Why?

Nancy sneakily looked back, saw the nymph's face and froze. That look of disappointment was more than she could bear. Chuckling, she abruptly changed her mind and started to jog back to the oak tree. Nymphology, indeed.

M for Monotonous

Sophia opened her bedroom door, plonked herself down on her bed and sighed exasperatedly. Life was so boring! It was so boring that she could predict exactly what was going to happen in just a little less than a minute. Mum was going to call to her and say that she had just realized that she had got back from school and tell her to freshen up and change for dinner.

"Sophie! I just realized that you got back from school! Freshen up and change, dear!" a voice called from downstairs.

"Mm, yeah, Mum, give me two minutes," Sophie said with a triumphant smile.

She opened her wardrobe and put her head in, waiting for her younger sister to fling open the door and scream that she had lost her teddy bear. Five, four, three, two, one…

"Sophie! I lost my teddy bear!" screamed Emma, bursting through the door.

"Huh, surprise there, Em. Let's see, every single day, you play with your teddy bear under my bed and then forget him there when Mum calls you for lunch. Maybe it's there?" Sophie asked her sarcastically,"now, get out, I need to change."

Emma made a face at her and ran out. Sophie pulled open her wardrobe again. Most probably, the first outfit which was going to come out of it was her Hamburg Hoodie and a pair of tights, which was a combination she'd worn at least fifteen times already.

She dressed up in her hoodie and tights and went downstairs and seated herself at the dinner table. Now her father was going to come in through the front door, holding his messenger bag, and jovially announce that work had been amazing and ask her how school was. So monotonous. Wait for it… wait for it…

Her father came in through the door. Check. Messenger bag. Check. Jovial smile. Check.
Boring, boring, so boring! Then, he set his bag down on the dinner table and took out a tiny box. 

"Sophia, guess what? We got you a new phone!!" he exclaimed.

For a second, she was speechless. And then she squealed.