The Book She Left Behind
A Writing Contest Entry

Total words: 2000

“Before you or I were born, everyone had books. Now they are very special, and you must never show anyone else that you have them. No one. Do you understand, sweetie?”
When Mila didn’t reply, she tried again, “Milana?”
She stiffened at the sound of her full name, even though her mom wasn’t yelling. It was too big a concept for her then, but little Mila nodded along to her mom’s words, slipping the beautiful old books into her messenger bag that stayed with her at all times.
“Even if I’m not there, you have to stay strong, okay?”
“‘Kay.”
Mila went back to her homework, the conversation already slipping from her mind.
***
Milana’s eyes shot open, her ears picking up on someone walking past her abandoned shed early in the morning. Shed, if one was being generous. She bit back a silent laugh. Judging by the darkness from the window, it was still night. Her brown eyes flashed in the starlight as she clutched her canvas messenger bag a little tighter, but the footsteps retreated drunkenly down the street. She sighed with relief. Now that her blood was pumping quickly, there was no way she could get back to sleep. She got out of her worn sleeping bag, rubbing her hands together to warm them up.
On instinct, she checked her messenger bag for the last remaining part of her mother. The book was still there, spine still cracked and seventeenth page still missing. One of the last books she had seen in a while, due to the government’s burnings and all.
She zipped up her shrunken sweater even tighter and rumaged through the small pile of supplies lying on the splintery floor until she found the can of beans she was currently working through and the stale pieces of bread that had long been without their bag. Which to have? Hunger clawed at her stomach as she examined the food, so finally she grabbed a piece of bread and swung her bag over her shoulder.
Outside, the cold air began to bite even worse than it had in the shed. The April sun was still below the horizon, casting shy glimmers of purple through the eastern sky as Milana made her way through the empty streets, staring at her black leather boots. Soon, the city would be filled with the usual people on their way to mind-numbing factory jobs and she’d be lucky to sneak a few coins out of them. Much more fun.
She trudged to her typical place in the town square. The busiest place where the most people would pass by and overlook a young girl stumbling through the crowd with a suspiciously growing change purse. She sat on the edge of a fountain that had been empty for decades and finished eating.
Gradually, people flooded out from their apartments and Milana began what she did best: stealing. Painting an innocent expression on her face, she tripped into some people and took money while apologizing profusely. For others, all she needed to do was reach into their bag. Everything was going smoothly, just as she liked it. Though for the whole morning she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her.
Finally, she stumbled across a boy her age. Some of her favourite targets, since they allowed her to flex her acting muscles. With a smile, she sauntered through the crowd until she stood behind him. Just as she was about to make her move, he turned around and met her eyes.
"Hello,” he said to her.
She smiled, stepping a little closer. “Hi! I’m so sorry to bother you, I was just on my way to work.”
He tilted his head and smiled.
“Have we met?”
“I don’t believe we have,” Milana said, her hand drifting to her bag as it always did.
Protect the books. The police can’t find out.
“Well I’m John,” he extended his hand.
It had been a while since she had shaken someone’s hand.
“Milana.”
His eyes darted to her bag and she realized her mistake. Her hand had been concealing the book, but she had moved it to shake hands with him. The cracked spine was peeking out through the top, the zipper having broken months ago. With an innocent smile, Milana drifted her hand back over the book. According to her mom, many people didn’t even know what books were. She forced herself to take a deep breath and stay looking like a young girl who couldn’t possibly be in possession of something illegal. Who wasn’t committing treason just from her literacy.
That’s when John grabbed her free hand and led her through the crowd despite her protests. She had heard, though, that police were kinder to those who didn’t put up a fight, so she saved her strength for later, knowing there was little she could do now. So this was how it ended. A stupid ploy to steal from a teenager after years perfecting the art of thievery. No one spared her a second glance despite her shouts just as Milana hadn’t spared a second glance to the people she saw hauled away on occasion. The people just like her.
Eventually, they reached their destination. An apartment building just like all the others, marked with a simple combination of shapes on the crumbling brick exterior. He pushed his way inside, Milana trailing confusedly behind as he led her up the stairs.
“Marcus!” he called to someone on the other side of the door.
The door shifted as the sounds of locks unlatching filled the silence. Milana’s eyes were boring holes in the back of John’s blond head.
"Who’s this?” said the old man now standing in the doorway, Marcus.
“It seems the resistance has found another member.”
Milana’s heart leapt. There were other people like her? Going against the government’s book-burning and school-banning?
“Come in,” Marcus said.
Once Milana introduced herself to the others and they all took their seats in the bare living room, council inside wasted no time in diving into their plans. Apparently, she had interrupted an important strategy meeting. Her mind was swimming with questions, but she forced herself to stay silent. Mainly, she just wanted to know why they seemed to trust her already. Did John’s word hold that much weight here?
Finally, they addressed her.
“We are planning to attack parliament in one week. According to our calculations, we should have strength in numbers, plus the element of surprise on our side, but blood will be spilled. This is a dangerous endeavour, all for knowledge.” Marcus explained.
Milana let the information hang in the air, enthralled by the opportunity. Finally, she couldn’t contain herself anymore.
“Why are you telling me all this? What if I was a police officer?”
“This is an important decision. We’d love to have you on our side, but if you decide against participating in our revolution we have to wipe your mind,” one of the other leaders told her.
It didn’t take much convincing for her to make up her mind. She knew what her mom would’ve chosen.
“I’m in.”
***
Over the next few days, Milana trained with the resistance who called themselves the Intellis. She was already quite strong from her time on the streets, but having them and their extra food and comfy beds on her side only made her stronger. She met up with others who would be taking part in the attack, many of whom she saw daily in the square. Some of whom she had even stolen from.
Before her brain could process all that had happened, she was in the apartment, now stuffed full of almost everyone who would be attacking the parliament building. They had little to no weapons, but their hearts full of fire were enough. Marcus led everyone through the plans and formations one last time before they all left in waves, attempting to remain inconspicuous. Milana’s wave was last, meaning after almost everyone left she was still inside pacing and chewing the inside of her lip.
John smiled at her, the gesture probably to help calm her nerves. Over the week, he had almost always been beside her, but when he smiled all she saw was a hardened face that should’ve still belonged to a kid.
“Time to go!” Marcus’s voice boomed through the apartment.
Milana set her jaw and took one last look around the apartment which had offered her a warm meal and a place filled with books for the first time in five years. Ever since her mother was killed and she was left to fight for herself. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and steady her drifting mind, following the others out the door and casually walking down the street. Her dark green messenger bag was still slung over her shoulder, though she knew she risked losing it in the revolt. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving it behind though, so she settled for tightening the strap and duct taping it shut.
All too soon, they reached the steps of the parliament building. Imposing marble towers seemed to scrape the sky and the flag at the top of it all proclaimed in letters that were supposedly illegal to read “Enlightenment Breeds Mistrust.” Milana resisted the urge to throw up in her mouth while staring at the familiar motto of the corrupted government.
“On my command,” Marcus shouted from behind her.
She heard him take a deep breath and imagined him struggling to stop his hands from shaking just like hers.
“Now!” he screamed, and then everyone was charging forward into the building.
They flooded around the pillars and through the doors, taking down the security guards stationed at the front who had never really been trained. The government thought they got all the books. Thought no one could think enough to put together a plan like this. They were lazy. Milana would’ve said unprepared, if she didn’t know any better. And the Intellis were striking where it hurt.
Milana’s mother took over in her spirit, pushing her forwards and giving her purpose as she stormed through the pristine hallways, surrounded by the people she had grown to trust with her life after she hadn’t trusted anyone all her life. And it seemed they were winning. They had hoped to win, sure. Maybe even talked themselves into really believing it. But it was still crazy to see the ministers fleeing or turning themselves over. Still crazy to see a real battle being waged.
She dodged punches, a kitchen knife in front of her that came in handy whenever someone got too close. Bodies littered the floor, blood painting her vision red with every slippery step through the parliament building. Gunshots rang out around her, pounding against her head.
After hours of a hard fought revolution, the prime minister came sprinting up the grand staircase and frantically waved a blank sheet of paper in surrender. A breathless cheer escaped Milana’s battered and bloody lips. Had they done it? Marcus approached the prime minister with a set of handcuffs he had stolen from a police officer and clamped them over his hands. It was over. They really had done it.
***
“Yes, Jordyn?” Milana said, smoothing down her plaid skirt.
“Miss, did you really fight in the revolution?” little Jordyn asked.
Milana laughed. “Yes, I did. It was quite a long time ago, but I guess I did help a bit.”
Marcus, the school’s guest speaker on the war, laughed. His age showed in the way his face creased with happiness.
“Ms. Milana doesn’t give herself enough credit. We almost didn’t go through with the plan until she showed up!” He said.
The students stared up at her in awe.
“Really Ms. Milana?” several of them asked.
“Yes,” she said. “And I’d do it again and again to be able to teach such a wonderful class. Let’s move onto the next page of our history book, shall we?”

Daily November 22
Total words: 523

Casseopeia sat on her throne, watchful eyes reigning over her kingdom. Today was the day subjects entered the court to make suggestions and ask her questions and she was determined to make a good impression now that she was queen. She had been asking her tutors to quiz her all day, nervously twisting her dark curls around her finger as she paced. Now, in her straight-backed throne, she was squirming and fidgeting. The line of subjects, a guard had reported to her, was longer than it had been for any monarch before her. The news of the abnormally long line of subjects waiting for her did little to resolve the stone of nerves sinking in her stomach.
A shy messenger scrambled into the throne room, eyeing her crown nervously. She offered him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
“Queen Casseopeia, I’m here to present you with the subjects of your Kingdom,” he muttered awkwardly before scurrying away.
She straightened her back as an older woman entered the vast, ornately decorated room.
“Queen Casseopeia,” she said, curtsying with surprising grace. “I’ve come from the countryside to raise awareness about the growing problem. A monster has been killing the animals on farms in the countryside, and with business as bad as it is…” she trailed off.
Queen Casseopeia stiffened. She hadn’t heard of any monster.
“Let’s just say we can’t afford to lose our animals,” the lady continued.
“Of course. I will send guards out immediately to find this monster,” Queen Casseopeia pledged.
She jotted it down onto a piece of parchment with her favourite quill.
“Thank you so much for bringing this to my attention,” she said with a smile.
“Thank you, your Majesty. Everyone in the countryside will feel safer now.”
Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Casseopeia had made it through the first subject’s question and she felt like she had done a pretty good job. She kept smiling and jotting this down throughout the next several subjects until her parchment was almost full. The messenger came back in and she was relieved, though speaking with her subjects was surprisingly calming.
“Has everyone come through?”
“There is only one more person left in line… but they were a well known activist against your father, the King,” the messenger said, anxiously twisting his hands.
“Well, I am not my father, and I’m definitely open to improving this. Send him in,” she said with a confident, strong voice.
The messenger hurried away and someone in a black cloak entered.
Queen Caseopeia took a deep breath, “Hello sir. I’m—”
He snapped his fingers, and all of a sudden her throne was transported far away from her castle. Far up into the sky, all the way through the day and into the night. Then she started to glow, and she couldn’t form any words.
That was how Casseopeia became a constellation, and at first it was very hard. She couldn’t see her friends or her subjects, she couldn’t read her books or visit her cousins. But eventually she made new friends and began to see the beauty in the world that she had never seen before.

Critique for Zephyr!
Total words: 414
Link to piece: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/851349/?page=1#post-8829662

WOW. This is so… much. It's really well written and I love the style. I've only read one other story in verse, and they always have such good form and incredible artistry. I really admire how much story you are able to tell in only fifteen hundred-ish words.
I often find it hard to critique without being nit-picky, so let me try to do that now.
Marilyn’s character feels very fleshed out and real. You can really follow her across the story and see her growth as she finds herself and pieces herself back together. I also like how Marilyn isn’t fully “healed” at the end, as this would be very unrealistic. This is a very raw and unfiltered description of her trauma which makes it hard to critique since it feels so real. I think to improve her character development, maybe we could have another beat to feel her pain after Eugene leaves her, or mention him earlier to make his leaving feel more significant to her. It felt a bit quick to transition between him and Lois. Overall, the pacing was a bit fast (though I can’t really be talking because mine was far too fast XD).
In terms of the formatting, I think it is very artistic and serves the story well. I’m not too big a fan of the words spread apart by spaces, but I understand their meaning. I love the use of italics. Also, I just wanted to mention one specific moment:

They crash o u t.

The modern or informal language used here pulled me a bit from the trance of reading this piece and I would choose a different word if you feel you could. I think the spaces could be part of it, since as I mentioned they're not quite my favourite.
Overall, I think the message of awareness was important and tackled well. You can really feel Marilyn’s pain, as I mentioned above. Many of the details are fuzzy, and I was a bit confused about the white walls. Was it hospital walls or somewhere else where Florian kidnapped her? Also, the flashes. Were they flashes of memory? I’m sure the details were fuzzy for Marilyn as well, though. The form, while artistic, limits the reader’s understanding so I’m grateful for the piece of context you provided at the top!
Overall, it was a compelling story that was executed quite well. Sorry if I didn’t include enough substance in this critique, but it’s really hard to critique something so good!

Weekly 3!
Total words: 815

Part 1
Words: 300

There are many reasons that I procrastinate on my chemistry homework. For one, I rarely feel like writing lab reports. I would rather go on scratch or other websites and these often distract me when I’m working online. I would rather read, especially right now when I have so many books out from the library. I would also rather hang out with my friends and do things with them. These things are all more appealing than homework, even though I have to get my homework done, and thus reduce the chances of me getting my homework done on time. Plus, some of the work itself is difficult and stressful. I get stressed out thinking about how hard it is or what grade I will get. I get really anxious when I can’t figure something out and I feel inadequate. These unhealthy levels of stress make me avoidant of my homework. Some of the work is just plain old boring because I have to just copy things out from the worksheet or previous assignments. It’s repetitive and I don’t really like it. Especially when I’m doing equations, copying out the formula every time feels unnecessary and annoys me. The second reason, especially now that it’s fall where I live, is that the sun goes down really early. When I work on a time consuming task such as a lab write up or other homework, even just for half an hour after school, I feel like I’ve wasted my entire day because it’s dark outside. I feel sad and guilty for not talking with my family and feel like I was holed up in my room for hours. Overall, there are many reasons why I procrastinate on my homework and I know that recognizing them is the first step to fixing them!

Part 2
Words:203

The first habit I practiced was listening to music while I completed the other habits. This really boosted my mood as I was dancing and singing along, turning a dull task into something fun! I think this will be just the thing for the dull and repetitive parts of my lab that I still have to do.
The second habit I practiced was setting goals. I haven’t yet completed them as they are for my lab that I will complete later, but now that I have set them I am feeling more excited to work on my lab so that I can complete the goals I have set for myself. I set two goals, first to complete my lab by 1:00 p.m., and second to write at least four paragraphs in my discussion section. I think these goals will give me motivation to complete my tasks.
The final habit I practiced was rewarding myself. After I finished writing my goals, I rewarded myself with a piece of candy. I think this technique really helped me to get through the end since I wanted my candy, and it is healthy to take care of yourself and your mental health in this way.

Part 3
Words: 312

I tried using Eisenhower’s Matrix, a technique which sorts tasks into four different categories to help you prioritize and make the most of your time. This helped me put all the tasks I need to complete into perspective and helped me sort them out so I can sort out the urgent or important tasks from the rest. Additionally, the labels “do,” “decide,” “delegate” and “delete” give clear next steps to help me manage my time. Now I have a clear picture of what I need to do first: my chemistry homework. This task also helped me realize the other things I had on my plate that I hadn’t considered at first, making me more able to manage my time correctly around them. This method also puts the tasks in front of me in writing, reminding me of their importance and motivating me further to get them done. I think this technique and the others I learned about will be helpful in the future, especially when I have more tasks to get done than I currently do. When I have homework in all my classes, this will surely help me prioritize. I have often struggled with prioritizing or knowing what order I need to complete my tasks and assignments in, resulting in some unnecessary things being done while others lie unfinished, even when I am in class the next day. It also helped me recognize all the unnecessary things I have on my plate or in my mind, such as my desire to read or scroll through youtube when I have more pressing tasks to attend to. Recognizing and “deleting” these tasks helps clear up mental space so that I can focus fully on the urgent tasks I must get done before tomorrow. Overall, this strategy put my time management and prioritization into perspective, helping me prepare to complete my tasks more efficiently.

Part 4
Locked in on my chemistry report :muscle:

Daily November 25
Total words: 372

“What’s the last thing you remember before the crash?” the agent asked her from behind the safe wall of plexiglass, white hazmat suit crinkling as he asked the question.
Clara rolled her eyes, annoyed at yet another trick question. They were trying to gather information from anyone who lived through the explosion of one of their power plants, but she knew that anyone proven to have condemning information against the government would be killed.
“I don’t know why you think I was there for the crash. I was at school.”
It was a different lie than she had told the day before, but they had already proved she was at the site. The best she could do was deflect. Even when their measures became quite… convincing.
The agent sighed, “Ivy, you’re really going to make me do this again? Just tell us.”
“Not my name.”
The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. The name Ivy had never fit her, always been like a pair of shoes three sizes too small. Ever since the government stole her family and her name.
“Yes, it is, Ivy. Come with me please.”
She knew better than to outwardly oppose the agents, but apparently today she had to watch her mouth if she wanted to live to see the sunrise. Against her will, she stood and followed the agent down the dimly lit sterile hallway. To the room where she could give up her information and life or fight with all her strength. Either way, the unassuming room held her life in its tortuous hands. She squirmed under the bright fluorescent lights.
“You know the drill,” said the agent, sounding almost bored. “One last chance. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“A lot of bright light, and a really big noise.”
The agent sighed, obviously hoping for something more descriptive.
“Let’s go Ivy,” she was pointing to the machine that Clara had been hooked up to every day for the past two months.
Clara’s gaze caught on the door. It was still open, the agent hadn’t closed it yet. Taking a deep breath, she bolted from the room. Best case, she escaped and worst case she finally got the solace of death.

Daily November 27
Total words: 255

Dear Kira,
I really cannot believe it. The high guard told me what happened but… I really did not think you would do that. I suppose I need to be careful in whom I place my trust, maybe he was lying after all. I cannot shake this soul-deep wrongness in what he told me, I know… I thought you would never do this to me. I thought we would always work together. I guess I could have been wrong.
After all we had shared together, our friendship since we were children running through the castle halls… I always thought you were different. I was safe around you. I never thought you would be loyal to the king after all we had been through. Never thought you would trade our relationship for something so… against everything you have ever told me. I guess I never knew the real you.
I suppose, overall, this letter is a goodbye. My one way of saying thank you for being my friend, for taking the fall, for pushing me to be my best, for making everything fun and for staying by my side through it all. Now, things have shifted and I do not think they will ever be the same. I never got to tell you this in person, but if I never see you again I guess it is my chance to be brave. I love you, Kira. Thank you for the time you spent as my Kira, and I hope you’ll come back sometime soon.
From Felix