by Isabella Brosi, contributing reporter
“Jasper, we’re here.”
“Wow,” I said. Even though I’ve seen prison 100 times, it is still a breathtaking sight. Good and bad it is, and it brings back memories. Like the time when mom and dad took me to the zoo for my 7th birthday. I always loved animals and it made me so happy to see them. That was such an awesome day! It was also the last time I saw my parents.
Prison is a dark, black tower. It is so tall. Over a thousand cells and 50 floors are in there. My parents are in cell number 235 on the 13th floor. I come visit them twice a month. (So yeah, that’s prison.)
Mr. Buckley and I walked to the front door. There were lots of entrances though. We gave the secretary our ID’s and signed in.
“Mr. Buckley and Jasper Smith,” she said knowingly. Then added, “Who are you visiting today gentlemen?”
“My parents, Luke and Alanna Smith,” I said.
“Okay, floor 13, cell 235,” she informed.
“I know,” I said.
“Thank you,” Mr. Buckley added.
“You’re welcome,” the secretary concluded.
We started walking to the elevator.
“You know what, I am going to wait right here,” decided Mr. Buckley as we were walking through the lobby.
“Okay,” I said, “why?”
“Oh, I don’t need to come, you can do this on your own, correct?” Mr. Buckley asked.
“Yeah I guess,” I replied.
“Good then,” he said cheerfully, “See you soon!”
That’s odd, I thought. Usually when social workers take me to prison they like to stay with me. What if – I am going to die now, here. Oh no, I thought, what am I going to to do? I didn’t want to die, I hadn’t done enough cool stuff yet. I need to figure out a way to live, I thought.
I jumped into the elevator in a sweet-sour mood, trying not to think about the prophecy. Maybe it would hold off if I didn’t focus on it. Anyway, I clicked number 13. The elevator took me up the floors and then ding, the doors opened. I hopped out.
You wouldn’t believe what I saw (I didn’t believe it either.) I recognized the voice, the foul smell. It was Oatequartz. The man, no not a man, a snake-lion-bull- wasp thingy was charging at me. It had horns for ears, giant claws for nails, and a stinger for a back. It had a snake’s venomous fangs and tongue for a mouth. Also, the man had a snake’s body. The only thing normal about him was a man’s face. (Found out how I am going to die, I thought. How am I supposed to fight this thing?)
Anyway, Oatequartz charged at me. I did the only thing I could think of, I dove to the side. Luckily, the creature (Oatequartz) missed. I looked around for a weapon, then I saw it: a dagger! I was in my parent’s cell, they were looking at me and I knew they were saying to be brave. Jasper, you can do this. That gave me power and strength. I ran over to the cell, reached my hand under and…. yes! I got the dagger, though I was on the floor, vulnerable. Oatequartz grabbed me. He picked me up and used snake body to hold me still. Then he twisted me, it was so painful and felt like I was being tied in a knot. No, I couldn’t die, I thought, I needed to live. I felt something pricking my left arm, I still have the dagger, I realized, managing to turn the dagger in my hand. Then, I jabbed the monster in the heart. Oatequartz screamed in agony, then started to turn black.
Eww, I thought. Why am I laying on something that feels like slime? I am not being squeezed anymore either and now, the monster, he was just a lump of black slime on the ground. I was alone, just me and the people in the cells.
Oatequartz must have ripped the bars off my parents jail cell, because here they were. Both my parents were standing over me.
“You did great out there Jasper,” my mom conplemented.
“That’s my boy,” my dad caoxed.
I was stunned, my parents were better. “Um,” was all I say. Then, I managed, “So, you’re better?”
My mother nodded, “We were never ill, Oatequartz cursed us,” she said.
“Once you killed him, we were cured,” my dad explained.
“Oh, that makes sense, now I understand why all of this happened,” I said.
“The prophecy said ‘he will die’, meaning Oatequartz, and when it said ‘succeed or fail, survive or perish, only God knows who will cherish’, meant that one of us was going to survive, and the other would be killed. Then the one (me) who lived will cherish.”
“We totally misunderstood the prophecy!” I realized.
“I guess you are quite right,” said my dad.
“And I am glad,” my mom added.
“Now the only problem is, how are we going to get you two out of here ?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” my dad said, “Let’s see.”
Turns out we didn’t have to do anything. The magic that fixed the curse on my parents fixed this too. Magic turned people’s memories a little bit, but that’s ok. Now, I get to live a normal life with my parents again. Everything was awesome, well almost everything. I accidentally left Max in the car (whoops!). Anyway life is just the way I like it.
Featured image attribution to Enokson on Flickr.