"Welcome to Starbucks"

As I stood in line with the other 100 kids turning 18 today, a million thoughts raced through my mind, I didn't know what to expect or how I would react, and with my last name starting with R, I was pretty far down the line. The thing is, everyone was watching, this was the moment we all looked forward to, everyone you know comes to watch, wondering if they are going to be important to you.

My mind raced, I couldn't think straight. The whole time standing in line to receive my "gift" or whatever you want to call it, I was worried I'd trip walking across the stage and causing all possible suitors to scoff and my clumsiness. You see, I am a very clumsy human being, I trip on air at least once a day. My mother told me I would never get married if I couldn't learn some balance. I have tried all my 17 years of walking to learn, but it's harder than it looks. 

Anyway, the line moved closer and closer to the stage and before I knew it, it was my turn. "Abigail Reed," the voice called. I took a deep breath and walked up the stairs. Carefully choosing my steps, I made my way to the center of the stage. Blinded by the lights, I stood, anxiously awaiting my future. "Your soul mate's first words to you will be 'Welcome to Starbucks, how may I help you?'"

A quiet murmur arose from the crowd, a ringing began in my ears and I stood frozen for a second. I soon remembered to walk off the stage. My mind was racing as I stepped off the last step. The good news was that I made if on and off the stage without tripping, but the bad news was that I had absolutely no idea how to discern who my soul mate was based on this information. Everyone else received words like "My dog can't stand to sit any longer, would you like to take a walk with me?" Those people were the lucky ones, they would have no question if that was who they were meant to be with.

I, on the other hand, would probably never go to a Starbucks again, unless absolutely necessary, hoping that I would meet my soul mate a different way. They tell you that doesn't happen; they say the only way to meet your soul mate was for them to say those exact Words to you. The trick was to just live your normal life and it would happen to you. You don't know when, you don't know how, and you don't know what the person will look like. You might not meet them until the day you die, but you also might meet them the day after the ceremony.

I followed the hallway down to the room set up for all of us. We could chat and discuss the Words given to us, but the time was mostly spent sitting silently, thinking of all the places these Words could be said to us. I found an empty chair on the backside of the room against the wall. The room was soundproof, making it impossible to hear what your friend's Words would be.

My friend Lauren was sitting on the same side of the room as me, so she walked over and asked what my Words were.

"'Welcome to Starbucks, how may I help you?'" I replied.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "Wow," she said, "how vague."

"I know. What were your Words?"

"Um, they were 'I think you're in my seat, do you mind scooting over?'"

"That's... odd," I replied, trying to lighten my own spirits, I joked, "are you going to purposely sit in the wrong seat every time you go to the theater?" We laughed.

"I thought about it!" she replied, "What about you? Are you going to go into every Starbucks you see?"

"I was more thinking about avoiding it." She asked why. "I don't want to go into every Starbucks and think that every person who works the register is my soul mate. I'd rather die alone than make a mistake every time I get a latte. What would I even say? 'Hey, that's what my soul mate's supposed to say to me!' Talk about embarrassing!"

"But what if 'That's what my soul mate's supposed to say to me' is what their soul mate's supposed to say to them?" she asked.

I laughed thinking about the sheer awkwardness of the situation and decided it was time to change the subject, "What about you? What are you going to do when someone asks you to move seats?"

"I don't know. I've thought about it a long time and I can't decide what would be best. Whether I play it cool and move over or if I say something witty about him being my soul mate. I wish they would tell us what we're supposed to say."

"Wouldn't that be nice?"

By this time, the room had filled up quite nicely and there were no empty seats. We were squished in there, but the noise level was low, the only talking was the quiet murmur of friends comparing Words.   As the last person entered the room, the same voice who announced our Words came over the speaker saying, "Congratulations to all, you have been given a great gift, use this knowledge wisely and keep your ears open, but don't expect to hear from your soul mate right away. Go back to your families and live your lives as normal, enjoy this time in your life, you will never have such mystery again."

We all slowly filed out of the room and headed to the front lawn of the building where our families were waiting for us.

Looking around for the tallest people on the lawn, I found my family. I was the shortest of them and they never let me forget it. Now there were these vague Words that I've been given and I knew my brothers would be saying them to me every time we went somewhere and passed a Starbucks. I thought about moving out and leaving town just to escape the confusion and ridicule that might come with a mistake.

My parents greeted me with a hug and said encouraging words meant to sooth me. It wasn't working. The ride home was long and quiet with only male voices spouting insults and jokes at each other. They would raise their eyebrows at me every time we'd pass a Starbucks, sometimes saying thinks like "What if your soul mate was in there right now?" Shrugging them off, I'd look the other way. They were all older than me and unmarried. None had met their soul mates, and I doubt they were worried about it.

Then next few weeks I explored other coffee shops in town, trying to find a barista who could make my favorite drink the way I liked it, like the one at the closest Starbucks. So far I had struck out. I thought about swearing off coffee, but that idea was quickly shut down the next morning when the only tea we had was caffeine free and a headache started to set in. I suffered through the bitter taste of the black drip coffee my mom made and would head off to whatever I had to do that day. I did this for a month.

My parents discouraged my actions, telling me that I wasn't supposed to change my behavior because of the Words. I couldn't help it though.

Lauren had already met her soul mate. It happened a week after being told when she saw Much Ado About Nothing in the theater. Her and her soul mate did everything together so I never saw her or talked to her. I became better friends with someone else from work to fill the space Lauren left. As far as I knew, we were no longer friends.

I longed for the day I found my soul mate, or at least someone I could bond with over the search for our soul mates so I wouldn't miss Lauren so much. She called me about a month later and wanted to meet for coffee. I was elated when she asked to hang out, I tried to convince her that we should get lunch or something other than coffee, but she was adamant about meeting at the Starbucks by my house at the same table we used to sit at every week. I was reluctant to go, but agreed anyway.

I arrived late, as usual, and saw that Lauren was already at our table and she waved enthusiastically. I smiled back and walked over, skipping the coffee line.

"Aren't you going to order something?" Lauren asked. I said I wasn't thirsty and sat down. "Why not? There's a cute guy working the register."

"That's why," I replied, "I'm not in the mood to find love," I forced a laugh and looked away. We sat in silence for almost a minute before one of the baristas called Lauren's name to get her drink.

"You should order something," Lauren said when she came back, "please? It would make me happy."

"Fine," I said, "If it makes you happy." So I stood in line, yawning every couple of minutes. Maybe I really did need the coffee. The man in front of me finished paying for his drink and walked towards the pick-up counter; it was my turn. Taking a couple steps forward, I glanced at the guy at the register, mostly keeping my eyes on the menu.

"Welcome to Starbucks, how may I help you?" he asked. My face burned as the redness traveled down from my forehead, I smiled awkwardly as best as I could manage. My voice shook as I gave him my order. "Can I get a grande mocha with an ounce of orange flavoring with cinnamon sprinkled on top? And can you make it a little less hot than normal drinks please?"

The look on his face made me nervous. His eyes widened and his mouth hung open. His coworker nudged his elbow after what felt like an eternity. I didn't know what to do, this guy could be my soul mate or just a regular Starbucks worker who thought my order was super weird.

"I - I" he stumbled over his words, "I think you're my - my," he struggled to get the last word out, clearly as nervous as I was, "soul mate." A slight smile came to my face as I accepted the events for what they were: a miracle. "I'm Alexander," he stuck out his hand awkwardly. I introduced myself and shook it. "Nice to meet you Abigail," he said.

His manager yelled at him to get the line moving again, but when I looked back at the people behind me the women were starry eyed and were whispering to their friends about us with smiles on their faces. The men seemed oblivious to what was happening and didn't care that the line was held up. "Will you come back at 3 o'clock? My shift ends then and I'd like to talk to you some more."

I agreed. My hands, shaking noticeably, extended my debit card to pay for my drink. "It's on me," he held up his hand to decline my card, "but you have to come back and see me."

His manager yelled something at him again, so I quickly said. "Thank you. I will be back."

Lauren and I enjoyed girl talk about what we expect our lives to be like from now on, and we left around 1:00. I came back at 3:00, like Alexander asked. He saw me as he counted his till, waved, and smiled to himself as he looked back down. My face grew hot and I could tell I looked of roses. I picked out a spot on a comfy chair in the corner and waited.

He finished up his closing duties, took off his apron, and came over to me. I stood up, he greeted me, and we walked outside.

It seamed so awkward, to have met the person I was destined to be with. I was clumsy and would stumble over my words. But so would he. I would say something to impress him, bending the truth just a little, but then I would have to come clean later on, as casually as I could, as if I remembered a detail that made that one extravagant part untrue. But so did he. It was awkward as we realized we had walked around downtown for almost two hours, and I panicked as I new I would be late for dinner. I also panicked because I knew I would have to tell my family, but I didn't tell Alexander just how nervous I was. He told me not to worry, that he would take me home. It was awkward as he opened my side of his car door and walked me to my front door. But what was the most awkward was how not awkward the next event was. As he leaned in and kissed my cheek, I expected my face to flame up, for my voice to get shaky again, but none of my worst fears came true. It all seemed so... natural. 

The Bedside Murder

The Bedside Murder

Journalist Margo Keys

     On the morning of July 2, 2013, the body of Mr. Caleb Saxon was found in his bedroom. It appeared he had a heart attack and collapsed on the floor just before reaching his bed. However, upon further investigation, it was discovered that Mr. Saxon was injected with a virtually undetectable poison. It was only discovered because of the efforts of Head Detective Sarah Holmes. "I had a hunch," comments Detective Holmes, "so I had the lab search for any and all poisons in the database."
     The body was discovered by the wife of Mr. Saxon, Jessica Anderson-Saxon. She came in after a long day of work to find her husband on the floor with no pulse, she called 911 to report her findings. Despite that she was unavailable for comment, she was overheard saying that she was not surprise this happened. The police department questioned her, but soon eliminated her as a suspect due to her airtight alibi. A friend of the victim stated to the police that he knew who killed Saxon. "[Saxon] was reviewing an employee at his legal firm after he got his second DWI, and he told me that he was going to fire [the employee]." Detective Holmes questioned the employee, Clive Prescott, and took him into custody.
     Prescott claims to have been home alone during the time of Saxon's death; without an alibi, the police questioned his motive and opportunity. Saxon's power to terminate Prescott was determined the motive, and without an alibi, his opportunity was obvious. Prescott declared that he had nothing to do with Saxon's murder. "He was our best suspect," Detective Holmes noted, "but there was something that didn't sit right with me about him. So we looked elsewhere."
     After searching deeper into Saxon's life, Detective Holmes discovered some stipulations in the accounting books at his firm. It appeared Saxon had been embezzling money from his office for the past 3 year's. His boss had uncovered this information the day of Saxon's death; however, when questioned, it was discovered that he was on a business trip and couldn't have possibly killed Saxon. With no other suspects besides Prescott, the police almost gave up hope looking for more. That is until a woman came forward and confessed to the police that she had been having an affair with Saxon.
     Detective Holmes commented, "We immediately suspected her as the killer...but after talking with her we brought Saxon's wife back in for questioning. When we told [his wife] about the affair and asked if she knew, she began sobbing and apologizing." Then, after investigating her financials, they asked her why there was $20,00 missing, she immediately confessed.
     Mrs. Anderson-Saxon had discovered her husbands affair a month before his death. She soon began devising a plan to rid herself of "that cheating scum," she commented. She confessed to hiring a hit man to inject the rare poison into Saxon's bloodstream. He died within ten minutes of the injection.
     The Saxon trial will be held on August 27, 2013 at the courthouse at 8:00AM.
     The memorial service for Caleb Saxon will be on July 7, 2013; it will be open to the public.

A Mysterious Key

Alice tried to remember who had given her the key. It sat on her dining room table, she sat and stared at it, questioning its existence. She found it in her pocket when she got home from work. It had been a rather unusual day...

Waking up at 6:30 AM, Alice turned off her alarm clock. She looked over at her dog, who was standing in the doorway, wagging his tail. When she put her head back on the pillow the dog ran up and jumped on her, like he did every morning. She got up to feed him, "Okay, Max. Let's go," she started walking upstairs as Max sprinted in front of her to the back door. She followed him outside. After starting the coffee maker she showered and got dressed.

There's no key in my pocket, I must have gotten it at work. Let's see, it started off like this...

"Hey, Alice!" shouted a voice far behind her, she barely heard it, and turned around. "Alice!" the voice said again, she looked around, a tall man was waving his arms. It was her best-work-friend, Charles; he waved her over. She pushed her way through the crowd, she felt like a fish swimming upstream.

When she finally reached Charles, Alice asked, "Yes?"

"The boss-man wanted to talk to you." he replied nodding upwards, towards her office, "it didn't look good, you better go now."

Alice sighed, "Okay, do you know what he wants?"

"Just to see you, and he's impatient."

"Okay, see you later, maybe," she smiled and walked into the open elevator behind Charles; the doors closed and opened again on every floor. Alice was tired of the ever present ding when the doors open by the time she reached the seventh floor. She walked down the long hallway and opened the door that read The Daily News with Gloria Gunderson and Michael Meyers.

The receptionist, Clara, said, "Good morning Alice, Mr. Montgomery wants to speak with out as soon as possible."

Alice smiled, "Okay," and headed up to the largest office on the floor. Before she reached the glass walls of Troy Montgomery's office, she took a deep breath, this couldn't be good. She gathered her strength and walked over to the glass door. As she knocked he looked up from his computer and waved her in.

He was a young man, at 32, the youngest person to run The Daily News. He had short blond hair and blue eyes, his suit was neat and his tie was straight, he looked way too put together. "Take a seat," he offered. Alice sat in the left chair, diagonal her boss. "You've been working here for a year now, correct?"

"Yes, sir." Alice replied.

"You've never had a promotion either, right?"

"No, sir."

"Does that bother you?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"No, sir. I didn't expect one very early." she answered, confused about where this conversation was headed.

"That's good. It's bad to expect so much. How would you feel about one now?" his stern face broke and Alice saw a little grin.

"A promotion?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes, a promotion."

Alice couldn't find the words to say what she wanted, so she sat there with the biggest smile on her face.

"I'll take take that as a yes." concluded Mr. Montgomery, "Instead of writing stories for the website, you are now in charge of celebrity guests. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Celebrity guests? Of course I can handle that," she almost yelled with excitement.

"Excellent. Pack up your desk, for this job, you get your own office."

Alice's eyes got wide, her mouth hung open a little, this was her first promotion and her first office, she couldn't believe it.

Her boss laughed as he stood up, "Come, I'll show you to your new desk." Alice stood up quickly and gathered herself. It was time to be professional.

Still no key. Where did I get it?

Alice sat down in her new office, he desk all set up the way she liked it, her new computer on, and her phone dinged. A text from her mom congratulating her on her promotion. Charles burst through the closed door. He had a huge smile on his face as he ran around her desk, he gave her a gigantic hug before she could react. "Congratulations!" he yelled in her ear.

Nope. Not where I got it.

Mr. Montgomery walked into her office and Alice looked up. "Your first assignment is here. Walk with me," he turned back around and walked out the door.

Alice was caught off guard and collected herself quickly. She stood up and walked out the door. She half jogged half-walked to catch up to her boss. "What is it?" she asked.

"Not what, who," he turned into the only room without glass walls and held out his hand, his way of pointing, to Lucas Levi; who was sitting at the big table. Lucas Levi was Alice's all time favorite actor. He stared in her favorite TV show and was in her favorite movie. She tried her best to stifle her growing need to fan-girl, so she stood there with a dumb grin on her face while Mr. Montgomery introduced them. "Lucas, this is the new Celebrity Manager Alice. She will be making sure you get whatever you need to make your visit as comfortable as possible," he turned to her, "Alice, say hello."

Alice snapped out of her trance and said sheepishly, "Hello, it's nice to meet you," suddenly she had a huge, dorky smile on her face.

Lucas' voice, what Alice described what silk sounds like, said, "Hi, it's nice to meet you too," then he stuck out his hand to shake her's, she stared at it for a second and then remember what to do.

"You'll have to excuse her," said Mr. Montgomery, "this is her first day and you're probably the first famous person she's met."

"That's okay," Lucas laughed, "I remember the first time I met an actor, it was the best day of my life."

"Alice," Mr. Montgomery handed her the file that was sitting on the table, "it's time for you to show Mr. Levi to his dressing room. Everything you need to know is in here."

She took the file and opened it, the first thing she looked for was his dressing room, when she found it, she took a second to gather her thoughts and announced professionally, "Okay, this way please," Lucas stood up and they walked out the door.

Alice led Lucas down the hallway and around the corner. He spoke, "You look nervous, you don't have to be, people tell me how easy I am to talk to."

Alice opened up a little and they talked for a couple minutes until they reached Lucas' dressing room. She told him that if he needed anything he could call her office, and she set her business card on his desk.

This is ridiculous. Still not a sign of any key.

She didn't hear anything from Lucas all morning. An hour before it was time for him to appear on The Daily News Alice walked to his dressing room and brought him to sound check. While walking he handed her something.

What was it? It must be the key! But what's it for? What did he say?!

"Here," he said to Alice, handing her the key, "when I leave, go into my dressing room and open the box on the desk," Alice took the key hesitantly, she was confused and Lucas could tell. He reassured, "It'll make sense when you open it," and she stuck it in her pocket.

"That's it!" Alice exclaimed at her dining room table. She jumped up, snatched the key, and ran out the door. She reached Lucas' dressing room just before the cleaners did. Sure enough there was a box on the desk, it was really more of an old fashioned treasure chest. She took the key out of her pocket and stuck it into the lock. Opening the lid and seeing what was inside brought a tear to her eye...

That Old House

Two young men hopped excitedly up the concrete stairs to the old house. Kevin Ricardo inherited the 150 year old house from his great-grandfather, and decided to take his best friend Fredrick to look at the house. The house sat alone on the corner of an empty street. Fields of grass surrounded it. The corner house's huge yard was overrun with weeds and the grass was knee-high. Kevin jiggled the key in the door's old lock, it finally opened with a thrust from both of the men.
The outside of the house was dark and worn by the weather. The windows were impossible to see through and half the siding was missing. The inside appeared to be well kept, despite the cobwebs that hung in the tall corners. Directly inside to the right of the door was a small bench chest. it was open and inside was a red plaid blanket. A single shoe sat on the floor next to the bench. The walls were covered in brown wall paper, which was ripped in places, mostly around windows and the huge fireplace. The living room was furnished with a single couch, which was ripped and had stuffing coming out the cushions. The sofa was in the middle of the room, facing the fireplace. Next to the couch a small end table sat, the finish was chipped and one leg was shorter than the rest. On top was a dusty candle. The house was not equipped with electricity so consequently there were candles everywhere.  There was a gas heater in the kitchen, which was through a small hallway left of the front door.
Kevin and Fredrick walked into the kitchen where a note was stuck on the old refrigerator with a letter magnet K. This is what it read:

Dear Kevin, 
      This house has been in our family for generations. Take great care of it. In my last years I've grown too old to mow the lawn and fix the siding, but I trust that you will do everything you can to make this house as wonderful as I imagine. Even though I am no longer there, this house was a dream of mine, I wanted it to look the way it did when it was new. 
     I don't ask that you fix it up like I imagined, my only request is this:
There is a mirror in the upstairs bedroom, it is 100 years-old. DO NOT break it.
                           Sincerly,
                                 Your Great-Grandfather Richard

As Kevin read the words of what might be the last thing his great grandfather had written, tears weld up in his eyes. He folded the letter up and stuck it in his coat pocket. Wiping his eyes, he looked around the old room at all the antique decorations. A clock hung un-working on the wall next to the sink, no water came out of the faucet, and instead of a refrigerator, an empty icebox sat in the corner.
Stairs led up to the second floor on the other side of the small kitchen, Kevin walked towards it glancing at the cracked linoleum floor, the stairs squeaked as he remembered coming here as a boy. Running up the stairs to the little back bedroom playing superheros with his cousins. Oh, memories. reminisced Kevin. He couldn't wait to see what that old room looked like.
The stairs were narrow as they spiraled upward, small steps made it difficult for the men's large feet to make it up without tripping. "I want to show you something," Kevin stated to Fredrick, "down the hallway." At the last door on the left was an open door. The two men  walked through, one after another. A bed sat on the right side of the room, in the middle of the back wall there was a window. Kevin walked slowly over, after wiping it off, he crossed his arms on the window sill, remembering all the great times he had in the old house.
Fredrick sneezed, he had picked up a dusty photo album off the bookcase opposite the bed. After flipping a couple pages he walked over to Kevin, book in hand, pointing at a black and white picture he asked, "Is this your dad?" Kevin looked at the photo, it was of four men: a really old man who looked to be 100 years old, a slightly younger man, an even younger man, who looked about thirty, and a baby. Words were written in cursive underneath the picture, they read: Four generations of Ricardo men. Jesse, Richard, Tony, and baby Lorenzo. 
"Yeah, the baby is my dad. Wow, so that's what Richard looked like," answered Kevin.
"You never met him? I thought you said you used to come here a lot," questioned Fredrick.
"I did, but I was so little that I didn't remember what he looked like."
Fredrick closed the book and put it back on the shelf. Kevin led the way out of the room and into the one across the hall. "This is the master bedroom," announced Kevin. A large bed lay at the center of the wall opposite the door a window was directly above the middle of the bed, short blue curtains covered it. Kevin walked quietly over the bedside table, an old picture sat upright of a young lady; she was beautiful, with short hair and a pearl necklace, she looked like she belonged in 1930-something. There was a wardrobe that sat on the left side of the room, next to it on the wall a mirror hung delicately. It was large and round, coming off the mirror was an intricate silver design that looked like the tentacles of a hundred squid. Fredrick walked up to the antique and stared at himself, trying to imagine what it was like to live there. "Look at this," directed Fredrick.
Kevin walked over to the looking glass, "This must be the 100 year old mirror Richard mentioned in the letter."
"It's gorgeous," commented Fredrick, after a silence he added, "This place is warm and friendly, it's full of memories and wonder, but it's almost creepy, with the emptiness of the rooms and the lack of light. I couldn't live here."
"Neither could I," Kevin reached out with his hand and caressed the side of the mysterious glass delicately. He felt something on the back of the mirror, with his index finger he pushed on the strange shape.
Suddenly a chill swept into the room, and a loud noise sounding like a large rock was being rolled away; the boys looked around, trying to discover the source. They walked out of the bedroom curiously and cautiously. They looked around, the breeze was coming from downstairs. Creeping down, they got colder and colder. Out of the kitchen they walked back into the living room.
The wall to the back of the couch, which was previously empty, caught there attention. Instead of the hideously old wallpaper, the middle of the wall, the size of a large door, was empty. Concrete stairs led down underneath the house, but all the boys could see was a couple steps; darkness consumed the rest. A cold breeze was emanating from that point, it smelled musty and old, like the air down there had been sitting still for a hundred years.
The men looked at each other, with wide eyes they knew the question in the others' mind. Kevin nodded and put one foot hesitantly in front of the other, he ventured down the stairs cautiously. Fredrick followed slowly.
The stairs turned left every now and then. They seemed to go on forever. Cobwebs hung from every corner -- spiders hanging off some of them -- and the air smelled cold and damp. When they finally reached the bottom, a huge corridor opened up in front. Marble statues of men and women stood around the room, each holding a different weapon. There were nameplates underneath each of them, a particularly tall statue, holding the largest weapon, had a name plate that read:

Hugo Ricardo

Rank: Master Assassin

October 5, 1797 - July 3, 1850

Fredrick read the nameplate's of some of the other statues out loud. They were all a lesser rank than the first. "Dude," said Fredrick, "I think you're related to assassin's."
"Yeah," said Kevin, so quietly Fredrick almost didn't hear him.
"That's awesome," Fredrick smiled, but Kevin didn't. He couldn't believe it; how could his parents not tell him about this, his own history!
Kevin walked slowly around the room, looking at all the statues and reading the nameplates. When he got to the last statue, which looked to be the oldest, after reading the name, he noticed a door hidden in the shadows. He waved Fredrick over and with one hand saying, "Over here! Did you see this?" he parted the cobwebs and stepped through; Fredrick shook his head and followed.
Kevin grabbed the dusty handle and pushed the door open. Through the door was a small room, inside by the back wall was what looked like a coffin. It was made of marble, carved in the middle on the side facing the door was a crest, Kevin recognized it to be his family one. Neither of them could believe what they were seeing. All around the room there were little treasures. Gold statuettes, expensive cloth's, and treasure chest's. Kevin crept over to one of the old dusty wooden treasures, he opened it using all his might; inside was full to the top with shining gold chips. Kevin sat amazed for a moment, he just discovered what could be millions of dollars. Knowing he couldn't take it, he closed the lid and stood up.
"This is crazy," stated Kevin, he put his hand on the pedestal he was standing next to.
All of a sudden they heard the same loud rumble from before. The two men looked at each other in panic and ran out of the room and up the stairs. When they got to the top the wall had closed back up. They stood, breathing hard, panic on their minds; they had been left to die. Horror was evident in both their eyes; it was so dark that they could barely see anything. Left with nothing else to do they walked back down the stairs, into the waning light from a hole in the roof.

Here's another story from the same prompt by my sister, Teacher, at her blog.

They had nothing to say to each other

They had nothing to say to each other. The two 6 year old boys sat in little chairs facing each other in the small living room; which was a mess. Kevin and Artie received a huge lecture about how fighting was wrong from their mother, who was standing over them, waiting for the two to apologize.

            I couldn’t help it though, thought Kevin, he took my favorite truck. I had to beat him up! Kevin was the oldest of the twins, and by his standards, the cutest, which gave him a big ego. Artie disagreed though, He thinks he so much better than me because he’s older! I just wanted to play with his truck but he wouldn’t let me!

            “Come on boys, apologize!” their mother demanded.

            They stared at their feet, unwilling to say anything. Their mother then commanded them to stand up, she turned their chairs around to face opposite walls and said, “Now, you both can sit there until you are ready to apologize,” the boys sat down and she walked into the kitchen. They crossed their arms, refusing defeat. 

Cinderella

Cinderella's step sisters were giddy with excitement when the prince was at their door. He wanted them to try on the glass slipper that his assistant carried on a red plush pillow. If the shoe fit, the handsome prince would take the lucky girl to his castle and marry her. They screamed with anticipation to see if it would fit their rather large feet. Drizella went first. She sat down in a chair and lifted up her skirt just enough for the prince to see her hideous feet. She rarely washed them as they stank miserably.

Prince Charming winced as the stench reached his nose. Drizella was smiling idiotically and Anastasia stood off to the side, smirking, knowing that her sister's huge feet would never fit in shoe that small.

Cinderella was peeking out from around a door, she saw the prince, and remembering the events of the night before, she wanted to run up to him and say, "It's me! I'm the girl you're looking for!" and throw her arms around his neck as he kissed her passionately. But who was she kidding? She was the stepsister/servant of Drizella and Anastasia and the stepdaughter of Lady Tremaine. He rags had rips in them and she looked nothing like she did the night before. Prince Charming wouldn't give her the time of day. He would take one look at her and say, "Why does anyone like that even exist?" She thought it better to stay behind the wall and watch.

Everyone's breath was held as Prince Charming slid the shoe onto Drizella's foot, only her heel fit; she curled her toes, making them as small as possible, but her foot was simply too big. The prince sighed with relief and pulled the shoe away from the stinky ankle attachment. Drizella cried with disappointment, "NO! It'll fit! Try again!" she grabbed the shoe from Prince Charming and stuck her toes in first, slamming her foot to the floor, trying to shove her obnoxiously huge foot into the tiny shoe. The prince's assistant ran up behind Drizella, grabbing her by the waist, he pulled her away from the shoe. She screamed so loud the ears of every one on the street rang. Lady Tremaine said sternly, "Drizella, control yourself!" she turned to her other daughter, "Anastasia, your turn." 

Anastasia glided over to the chair her sister had recently vacated. She sat down with an elegance suitable for a princess. She smiled at Prince Charming, who grabbed the slipper off the floor. 

Cinderella had grown anxious behind the door. Watching Drizella make a fool of herself, she decided that if the shoe didn't fit Anastasia, she would go out and meet the prince. She hoped it would fit her sister only because she didn't want to have to face the man she loved and explain why she was the servant of the worst family in town.

Prince Charming gently took hold of her ankle and slid her toes into the glass slipper. They were all amazed when her heel slid perfectly into place. They all sat and stared at her foot for a moment, processing the fact that the prince had just found the girl he was looking for. Or at least he thought he did. Anastasia and her mother yelped with glee as she jumped up from the chair, showing off her shoe. Drizella, who was standing off to the side next to the princes' assistant, screamed, "NO! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ME!" and she fell to the floor like a pile of dirty laundry and wept. Cinderella's eyes teared up, this was not supposed to happen. She was supposed to waltz in after the shoe was too small for both of her sisters, just before the prince left, put on the shoe and have everyone see that it was her that the prince had met at the ball.

The prince stood up, still stunned that a girl with a personality like that could be the girl that he fell in love with at the ball. Anastasia threw her arms around Prince Charming and kissed his frozen face. The assistant stood by the pile of Drizella and smiled brightly, he was just happy he didn't have to go to any more houses filled with girls that would do anything to get their foot into a shoe too small for them.

The prince took a step back and Anastasia stood confused. He said, "No, there's no way YOU are the girl I met last night!" she asked confused, "Why not? My foot fits perfectly!" he replied, "Your personality is all wrong! The girl I met last night was incredibly nice, humble, and shy. She had beautiful blond hair, not red! And she had the face of an angel, not the result of inbreeding! I have been tricked!" He turned to his assistant angrily and added, "Come, we must go to the next house!" Cinderella couldn't let this opportunity go to waste. She stepped out of the door as her sister and stepmother cried out in anguish. "Wait!" Cinderella shouted, the prince turned around, "you haven't put the shoe on me yet."

Prince Charming laughed, "and I'm sure your foot will fit, just like all the other girls say. Goodbye," he and his assistant walked out the door; Cinderella stood in her rags as a tear fell from her eye. Both her sisters were on the floor in tears and her mother comforted Anastasia. Cinderella never saw the prince again, and the prince never found his true love.