1) Who wants to be first on the menu for Thanksgiving? One bright morning, the cashier of the shop I was in checks me out to a man, about twenty-nine years old, with a white, striped shirt and blue jeans, ebony black hair, and a little, faded mustache which made him look a bit strict to me. The moment he started having a conversation, and half-laughing voice, with that particular tender frog-in-the-throat vibe, he would make me listen to his every word with an open mouth. The man was like a magician to me: mysterious and a bit scary even, yet so fascinating and magnetic. The person whispers to his friend who he just met about devouring my juicy flesh for his Thanksgiving feast.

“He will be great to dine on since the store owner confirmed that he was the healthiest one in the lot!”

Then, my feathers ruffle, and my owner peers behind his shoulder to confirm whether I was okay. Even though I want to behave in my worst manner so my keeper could give me back, I act nice as all turkeys do. Okay, well like some turkeys do. Once Jacob (my owner) reaches a red-brick home, he stops his gray, Honda CRV and holds me while sprinting towards the entrance stairs. He opens a red, wooden door, and his family gasps at the marvelous surprise--me. Jacob’s mother has a warm smile, and orange shades on her peachy, neat, cotton outfit. There is a bright orange ribbon in her hair with red nail polish on her fingers. She places me beside her red, rocking chair, and they are discussing the Thanksgiving feast. Warm orange and yellow-pomegranate furniture, sunny-colored napkins and curtains, country-style hard wooden tables, and I guess Mrs. Jan (Jacob’s mom) loved orange shades, both in her dress and in the home’s interior decor.

I overhear that, “What a healthy-looking turkey he is. Thank you, my sweet boy!” This is the last straw for me, so I jostle around the home and make gobble noises.

“Catch that turkey!” cries Jacob’s mother. 

Jacob leaps on me, but fails; little did he realize that turkeys can sprint up to twenty miles per hour when they are super scared! His mother rushes over to support him, but then, her daughter, Jacob’s sister, grabs me by my glossy feathers.

“Ha, got you!...” she exclaims, but it is too late. I scratch her with my sharp toes, and she howls like a wolf. I rush toward the barely-open door and free myself. Just then, a huge wind throws me back into the home, as Jacob grabs me and never lets go. With a different, wicked smile, he clenches his fingers on a silver knife from his pocket. It is almost like he changes into his dark side.

“Son?” Mrs. Jan calls out.

Jacob does not respond.

“I am not Jacob!” he screams!

He does not move, and grabs a white sheet of paper with his face just underneath a WANTED and the name was the notorious criminal Jaif O’ Crismon. His skin looks waxed, kind of like Sirius Black from Harry Potter when he is in Azkaban, and he was holding a sign with the numbers 612 just in front of a jail cell. The man describes himself as a wayward, cowardly man starting from his childhood. His mother was bleeding due to my ancestor and he wanted to take revenge on me.  He holds up the knife in his hand, and I thought in my head, Goodbye, world. To my surprise though, I was not cut in half. In fact, I was not chopped at all. When I opened my eyes, a wrinkled hand held the knife back.

A now raging voice inquires, “Where is my real son, you cheat!”

With his hands trembling with fury, Jaif points towards the basement door. Everyone rushes there, and May, the sister, opens the door with a pick and hustles towards a young man with a tied, tan rope bound and a silver tape on his mouth. As soon as the police entered the home, Jaif was arrested, and Mrs. Jan let me sprint back to my home. I just mention a “Thank you” in turkey language, and rush off into the distance, never to be seen by the family ever again. I am saved!

 2) “Hey Fred, check it out-- we have another boring case,” Lewis mentioned.

“You know cases are not boring, Lewis,” Fred explained, as he slipped on his short tail almost every single second.

 He was on a sloshy mess of orange liquid that dripped onto the wooden floor. 

“First clean that up; then we can travel to the master of darkness, Lord Snail Menace!” Lewis pleaded.

Like a thunderbolt, Fred grabbed a small, white tissue from his gooey “pocket”, and held it up as if it was his most prized possession. Then, he zipped across the table which he dropped the orange juice onto in the first place and next, the floor with the wipe. After they climbed outside the window, a fresh breeze hit them on their back. Then, they rode their shiny, red, flying car that hovered all the way to the FSB (Federal Snail Bureau). The idyllic view of the crystal clear lake, surrounded by towering, green pine trees that whispered as the wind gently rustled their needles, mesmerized them. They finally reached a tall, red-brick building with transparent glass, and a tiny, dog door. As they entered, and not to their surprise, were other snails that carried bunches of paperwork, as if they were real humans in an office. The mission of this company was to solve every case and crime in all of North America (since they already has branches in different places). They hopped up the marbled staircase that led to another tiny, dog door. Knock Knock.

“Come in!” a gruff voice screamed.

Once Lewis and Fred opened the flap, there was a huge desk which had a name board with the letters Booby Saugguire printed on it. Everyone liked to call him the “Snail Menace” because of his behavior. When they plopped down on the seat, they viewed a horrible face they always gasped at: a face with wrinkles, an unwelcoming smile, two, jutted eyes as if they were about to pop, and glasses just above the tip of the “slimy nose”. (Wait, snails do not have noses, right?) A new case was assigned to the two detectives who rushed at once to their car. Five minutes later, they landed on top of a wooden, dog house with a red roof. They got out of the car, and dropped to the soft, damp grass.

“Someone needs to get their driving license,” Fred pointed to his partner, “we are lucky that this grass we just hopped on was not sizzling lava just waiting for us to be liquidized.”

With glaring eyes, Lewis stared at Fred, and trotted towards the entrance of the dog house. Fred followed him in, as he heard a slight noise. As he turned around to where the sound came from, there it was. The creature stood three feet tall, with long, golden hair, and paws as huge as Lewis and Fred combined together! It was a dog! The partners gasped with their eyes wide open. Their boss did not explain this to them, but the dog just wagged his tail at them. Once they knew he came in peace, they all discussed the problem.

“I just came in this morning after my owner fed me some heavenly, savory dog food that was just the right amount of sweet and salty….”

“Please do not get carried away!” Lewis exclaimed anxiously, as he pleaded behind Fred’s shirt when the dog growled at him. As he did that, Fred spotted GEORGE printed on the collar that hung on the soft fur.

“Then, I was struck by lightning when I observed the cobwebs you view here,” George continued.

“Oh my god, you were actually struck by lightning!” Lewis quickly gasped.

He could be not smart sometimes, as he yelled “What!” when the others stared at him. Fred and the dog shook their heads, and with Lewis, they discovered more cobwebs on the grass that led to a hairy creature, with eight legs, and a tiny, ebony body. With closing his eyes, Fred quickly grabbed the spider and landed it right in the car. They bid farewell to George, who thanked them, and once again traveled back to their office. Little did they know that “The Mystery of the Missing Statue” was waiting for them next!

 3) Dear Draco,

Hi, my name is Harry Potter from the same book: Harry Potter that you are in. I am your worst arch-enemy, and you must be surprised why I am writing this letter to you. As a Gryffindor, I know you hate me, but that does not obstruct me from gifting you some valuable advice (in my opinion). I believe that even though we have various types of lives, I can support you, with mine, to be strong both physically and mentally.

I know that you are totally rude (no offense) since you always hurt my friends internally and externally; and for you to become more mature, just think of this letter as a vaccine. In school, only your house likes you, and that is because they are afraid to be the prey for a predator. To overcome this loneliness, I suggest that you be kind, so just at least prevent yourself from making fun of somebody for one day. That is how you will learn, and it can be difficult at first, but you will soon begin to realize that you are being kind. I realize this is not what you want to be, but still, just making someone's day brighter will shine yours, too. That is how I learned in Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione, and I realized that the world full of Dursley’s was not all. In fact, you could consider that as 0.00000001% percent of the whole world! A magical adventure lays upon anyone, including you, Malfoy.

I realize that Crabbe and Goyle are not-so smart, but at least try not pushing their ideas aside. What if one day that they suggest you grab your fire potion, but you did not listen to them. After sometime, there may be lava sweeping oozing into your corridor when you are diligently working on your homework. I am not requesting you to listen to them all the time, but at least try to consider their thoughts. Or else, what is your friendship about? Your companion requests some valuable advice, and then you delete it from your brain. From my personal experience, that is not it. I know that you would want to burn this letter and toss it into the trash can, but I am just sharing some valuable advice for you.

During my years at Hogwarts, I have had some ups and downs. You can almost not-so conventional life there as a roller coaster. Even through harsh times, I had friends who encouraged me to keep moving forward. I reached a position where I believed I would never be. I did not cry all day when I lost a contest; I had a conversation with Ron and Hermione about it, and I vowed to try better next time. I was not wayward; I listened to my companions’ advice and succeeded during school. I hope you do the same from next time onwards, Malfoy. I am counting on you.

I hope this letter taught you a few lessons (well, if you read until this much). I bid you farewell, but just on an important note, these lessons are to not be forgotten. These are valuable ones that should last through your conventional, everyday life. Also, may you succeed to great heights!

 Bio Poem -

Akash

Intelligent, Amiable, Agile

Son of Arun and Soumya, Student of Mrs. Linham

Lover of App Development, Coding, and Reading, 

Who Feels Loved, Ecstatic, Joyous, and Furious

Who Fears Painful Injuries, Vampire’s House, and Super-Dark Rooms

Who Gives Kindness to Someone When In Need

Becoming a Global Citizen, Life-Changer, and an Entrepreneur 

Proud Resident of Glen Allen, Virginia

Arun Kumar Soumya

I Am Poem -

I am a tree trunk; holding still, but strong. I am like a parrot who is very intelligent with a huge passion. I am a cheetah, quick and agile to slip out of my foes. I am the one who carries the world with a warm heart.

Haiku Poem -

Branches with gentle words

May seem quite pleasing to us

When the soft breeze blows

Acrostic Poem -

Blue, red, all the types

Intelligently flying high in the sky

Ravens, blue jays, and cardinals are some types

Drearily and flapping through the sky

Showing us their beauty