The Abby Report

Hi guys! Today is going to be a pretty short story, but first I wanted to share a quote. “Those who wish to sing always find a song” -Swedish Proverb.

My eyes are burning. My hands are aching. My back is in so much pain it’s about to crack. My ears are pressed against my head. My head is splitting in two. Water doesn’t help. All day everyday, this is my life.

Starting at 8:30 and ending at 3:30, I go through this torture. 3 other kids and I talk about something, and then it’s back with everyone else. I scribble a note in my notepad. I sneakily read a chapter of my book when I’ve finished doing something.

The bright blue chat bubble is at the side of my vision. Whenever I visit a website, I always do a double take, even on my personal device.

Children should be chatting at lunch tables, running outside, giggling and passing notes, not sitting in front of these torture devices that slowly cause health problems. Not watching for the hateful blue chat bubbles that I think are spy devices.

My notebooks are rarely used, I haven’t touched a folder in months. The clock on the torture device reads 3:21. Just 9 more minutes. I massage my temples and smack my cheeks. It’s Friday. And then I get the weekend off.

The 9 minutes drag by. “Goodbye” my teacher says. I shut my ChromeBook so fast it makes a *SMACK* sound. Thank Gosh, e-learning is over for the week.

Hello! This is going to be a short post, but my sister is learning about the water crisis in South Sudan. This is a really bad problem, and children are dying of water born diseases such as cholera. Learn more here:

Or you can go directly to the website and donate there!

So everyone, I am writing a story for a competition, and I won’t be able to write one this week, but I will post my one from the contest last week. Also, I posted some new things on my Etsy Shop: TheSistersCraftsShop, so be sure to check it out:

September 11, 2001
8:31 a.m.

I finish the Chapter titled “The Peloponnesian War” in my social studies book and stand up. Mommy told me to read and she’d give me a quiz on it. I stand up and give a swift pet to my cat, Ramen. Then I head down the stairs of our apartment.
My parents work in a deli, and we live in an apartment directly above it. I can see the Twin Towers from my bedroom window. It’s a warm September’s day, 2001. “Mom!” I call. “I’m ready to help with the sandwiches!”
“Alright, Teresa!” I hear her yell back from the deli kitchen. “You know the rules! Hairnet, gloves, apron!”
“Yes, I know Mom!” I shout, slightly annoyed. I mean, I’ve been working here for free since I was 7. That’s 4 years!
I put on some fresh gear. A white apron, a disposable hairnet, and some plastic gloves. Before I put my long chestnut hair into the hairnet, I pin it on the top of my head and slide the hairnet over it.
A young woman comes up to the counter. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school, young lady?” she gives me a disapproving look as she says this.
“I’m homeschooled. Besides, my mom says I’m smart and if it weren’t the law she wouldn’t have to teach me much.” I say back, determined to protect my name.
The woman looks slightly annoyed, but thankfully I haven’t scared her off. My parents and I have had to have the ‘Don’t scare off customers talk’ before.
The woman is average sized, but I am almost as tall as her. “I’ll have the sausage and egg sandwich to go, please.” she says, taking out a black leather wallet from her leopard print handbag. I hope it’s not a real leopard. Probably not.
I make her the sandwich and wrap it up in some paper. Then I put it in a brown paper bag and hand it to the lady. “That’ll be $4.50. Will that be all?” I say. Mom has drilled the ‘Talking to customers politely’ speech into me.
I glance at the clock. It’s 8:39 a.m. Mom said she’d give me the test at 9:00. She is very punctual.
“Yes. That’ll be all.” The woman says.
“Have a nice day.”
The cashier at the other end of the counter, Melissa, takes the order of a couple that can barely stop kissing long enough to take the order. Melissa looks like she might vomit. I’m not sure why until I see that they’re slobbering all over each other.
Suddenly people start pointing at the sky outside. I can’t hear their muffled voices, but something seems wrong. I take off my apron, hairnet, and gloves, and say to Melissa “I’m going to check what’s going on. Probably one of those planes with messages, only this one says something weird.”
I step outside, and ask the nearest person what’s going on. He says “That airplane is flying really low. We’re trying to figure out why.”
I look up at the plane. It is flying really low for a plane. “Why do you think it’s doing that?” I ask, even though I know he probably won’t be able to find an answer.
“I don’t know . . . That’s pretty weird.” the man replies.
Suddenly the people watching the plane start screaming, and a few other curious shopkeepers step onto the street. I scream too, squeezing the man’s arm.
The plane has just crashed into one of the Twin Towers.

September 11, 2001
8:47 a.m.

The man and I scream and I let go of his arm. I’ve left little half moon shaped marks on his tan skin. “Sorry.” I mumble. His face drains of color and I stumble inside my parents’ deli. The shop has no customers and I put the closed sign on.
“Turn on the news!” I screech, so loud that Melissa covers her ears. She picks up the remote and changes to channel from a sports game on the TV in the deli to the news.
BREAKING NEWS! The screen blares. “Mommy!” I cry, tears welling up in my eyes.
My parents rush out from the back of the shop. “What is it-” Mom says, and stops when she sees the TV.
“Shh.” Dad says, holding a finger up to his lips.
The distressed news anchor says “A plane has crashed into one of the Twin Towers. Officials don’t know who struck it. Several rescue operations have been launched, to locate people trapped inside the skyscraper.”
I begin sobbing as does Melissa. Melissa is sobbing louder than me. “My mom works in the World Trade Center!” She wails. My dad takes her into the kitchen.
I open my mouth to say something to my mom when people outside scream again. “Oh Jesus what now?” Mom moans.
We rush outside, and my friend from earlier runs up to us and screams “The other Tower’s been hit!”
I look up at the Twin Towers. They’re smoking, dark as night. Fire blooms and I squeeze my eyes shut. I know what me and my mother have to do.
“Mommy?” I say.
“I know. I know. Let’s go.” She replies, her voice laced with sobs.
We head inside and pack up a rolling cooler with sandwiches and bottles of water. Me and my mother are going to get as close to the Twin Towers as we can.
People are rushing towards the tower, arms full of food or medical gear. Ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars screech as they rush down the street.
The police have put caution tape at the end of our street, and rescue workers are trying to get inside the hell on Earth.
I don’t want to hear what they’re saying, but sometimes ears hear even when you don’t want to know. “Staircases blocked, building might collapse, hope seems bleak.” I hear one EMT say to another.
A woman comes out of the building in the arms of a paramedic. She doesn’t need much medical attention and he puts her down near me, then rushes back into the building. Mom has disappeared with the cooler.
I run to the woman, who is sobbing. She is wearing a ripped and scorched red dress with what’s left of a blazer on it. Her hair is a bird’s nest, and her feet are bare. I heard that the rescuers were telling women to kick off their high heels.
“Shh. It’s okay.” I say, sitting down next to her. I’ve never seen someone so fragile. She’s like a bird. She was just going to work, never being able to anticipate the volcano inside the building.
I put my arms around her as she sobs. “M-my b-best f-friend is s-still at her d-desk. I n-need to f-find her.” She wails, barely understandable because of her tears.
“It’s okay. Shh. You’ll find your best friend. Are you hurt?”
“No! My best friend is still in there! We need to help her! She has a 19 year old daughter and a family! She can’t die!” She cries, struggling against me.
“She’ll be okay. My name is Teresa. Tell me your name.” I say, trying to stay calm as ice flows through my veins. Melissa’s mother is trapped in the World Trade Center.

September 11, 2001
9:21 a.m.

“My name is Lisa.” The woman goes slack in my arms.
“That’s a pretty name. I’m going to bring you to my parents’ deli, okay? Can you walk? I think your best friend’s daughter is there.”
Lisa nods and lifts up her arms to be carried. I oblige. This is insane. This is a 35 year old woman being carried by an 11 year old girl. I truly understand what it must be like in there to make her so upset.
I carry her through the streets. People are rushing past screaming, ambulances roaring. I glance at my watch. It’s 9:46. It’s hard to believe that this all happened before most kids have made it into second period at school.
My dad lets me into the deli and I lay Lisa on a table. She sits up and my dad wipes off her sooty face. I take Lisa’s face in my hands. Her forehead and cheeks are hot. I wipe some cool water onto her face. “Go to sleep, Lisa. It’ll be okay when you wake up.”
Melissa is still crying, but softly. “Did you see my mom?” she asks me. “That’s her best friend.”
“Lisa was very upset. She had to evacuate and was convinced your mom was still inside.”
Melissa puts her face into her hands. “I’m going to go back out and bring Mom back.” I say.
I rush out into the streets. “Mommy! Mommy!”
I hear a faint “Teresa!” coming from the throng of people.
I spot my mom’s hairnet and rush into her arms. “Mommy! C’mon, we have to go. The cops are saying that the building is going to collapse!” I say.
“I know.” she replies. The cooler is gone but she doesn’t care.
“Did they find Melissa’s mom?”
“Yeah. She’s hurt though. She’s going to the ER.”
We start running back to the deli when I hear a deafening crash. “Oh no.” I say.
We duck into the nearest shop, which happens to be a T-shirt shop. Several other people run in too. One of the Twin Towers comes down with a noise like a jet engine.
The whole street is coated in glass and steel. A few people that covered their heads on the street stand up, shellshocked. They have several small scratches on their arms.
“Mommy let’s go!” I say, my throat coated in plaster dust.
Mom looks up. “I love you Teresa.”
“You too.” I reply. We both ran into the street. It’s like bizarre snow. A surrealist born and raised Miami’s depiction of winter.
“The other might fall too Mommy! We need to get to the deli shop!” I cry.
We run home, where I immediately say to Melissa “Your mom’s in the ER. One of the Towers fell.”
I gulp down a water bottle and look at Lisa.
She’s sitting up, pale and sweaty. “I had a bad dream.” she says faintly.

September 21, 2002

Three weeks after September 11, 2001 and I was in public school. I quickly made friends. We had sleepovers and for my birthday in February we watched all of the Lord of the Rings movies.
Melissa, her mother, and Lisa all come over for dinner every Sunday. Sometimes I still find myself gawking at the long, jagged, sickly looking scar on Melissa’s mom’s arm.
Lisa and I have a special bond. I know that she’s grateful to me and she’s always telling me how lucky she was that I was so kind to her, a complete stranger.
It still upsets me when I hear about her latest nightmares. Smoke, fire, crashing planes and bodies fill her nights. I think I know what I’m going to do when I grow up.

October 19, 2015

I glance around my office in the building where I work. The walls are covered in degrees. I’m a physiatrist. I help people that are traumatized. A few of my patients are New York citizens that survived 9/11.
I have a family and I still visit Lisa whenever I can. She is what made me want to dedicate my life to helping people’s nightmares.
A war veteran, house fire victim, kidnapped teen. These are just some of my patients. But I don’t think of them as patients. I try to understand them. When they are hesitant to tell me something, afraid I will be too afraid, I assure them that this is my job and that they are the important ones.
I am a psychiatrist, an author, and an excellent sandwich maker. Some people that I know try not to think about that day. But I do. I tell people and even now my mom has to tell me not to scare her customers away with my vivid recallings of that day.
Some things never change, like one’s personality or the way my mom makes sandwiches, but other things do change, like airport security and age. And we just have to change with them.

The End

Sorry I’m a little late! I found a great prompt on the Internet, so here goes:

Jessie and I are best friends. We were born on the same day and our mothers became friends. I don’t remember a time when she wasn’t there.

We decided to move to Miami together. We’ve been here for 10 years. I have a husband and 2 kids. We live next door to each other. She just got married.

I miss Pennsylvania. But I do love walking on the beach. The way the sun is shining and the heat as if it were summer in Pennsylvania but coming home and seeing the Christmas tree.

The phone rings. It is a few days before the start of winter break for my two children, Lily and Carter. I get up from my computer and reach for my cell phone. It’s my mother. “Mom! Hi!”

“Hello, Rachel, dear! I was wondering if you and Jessie and your families could come visit for Christmas? I miss you. You haven’t ever been over for Christmas since you moved to Florida. And I’ve got a surprise!”

“Oh Mom! That sounds great. I’m booking a flight right now….Okay! Done. We’ll be there on Saturday afternoon and we’ll be leaving on December 28th. See you soon, Mom. Bye!”

I hang up the phone. We fly to Pennsylvania with Jessie and her husband. When we arrive, it’s snowing. I haven’t seen snow in a decade. I spread out my arms and twirl around.

Lily shrieks in delight and immediately jumps into a snowbank. Carter is older, but even he can’t hide his delight. He chases after his sister and pelts her with snowballs.

“Rachel!” My parents cry. We hug and suddenly my dad pulls a bundle from behind his back. He pours out 4 sleds.

“Dad!” I say. I hand one each to Carter and Lily and we walk to the hill next to my parent’s house where Jessie and I used to sled when we were little.

“Let’s race!” I yell to Jessie. She nods, that old grin spreading across her face. I hop onto my old wooden sled and begin barrelling down the hill. Jessie hops on her old sled and catches up to me.

I laugh and speed up. We tie. I glance up the hill at my husband and children, who have all never seen snow before. They all have lived in Miami their whole lives. My kids start sledding and me and Jessie take a few more turns. Then we show our husbands.

I never realized how much I missed the snow. 3 years after that, Jessie and her husband and her new toddler, and my family move back to Pennsylvania.

Hi everyone! As promised, I will write a story every week, so here is this week’s:

Fires bloom. Porsches, Lamborghinis, and Ferraris race up and down the streets, wrecks happening all the time. Cash fills the sidewalks and mansions are crammed together on a former forest preserve. Ladies walk down the streets in 24k diamond earrings and authentic pearl necklaces, clutching designer handbags. Men come down the streets in suits and nice ties, hiding guns under their clothes. Everyone is in danger of being shot.

Police stations have been overrun. Hospitals are rare. Nurses and cops and bus drivers are too few and they work too hard. Nuclear weapons are poised all over the world and the planet is riddled with conflict. There are no homeless people. No starving people. No. Instead the world is 100 times more dangerous. And one man is to blame.

Jonathan Bernard. He managed to invent a machine that can make anything appear out of thin air. And instead of fixing problems, people’s greed destroyed the world. Pigeons and rats are rare. No one has seen a deer in years. Companies have to throw away all the extra AK-47s, cars, shoes, handbags, clothes, food, healthcare products. Jonathan Bernard has replicated his machine and positioned them everywhere.

I am Lily Jones. And I am caught in the middle of an unsafe world. I am 18 years old. I was 7 when the machine was invented. At first it was okay. They used it to replicate vaccines and food and fresh water. But then Jonathan Bernards gave the government access to his machine. I look out the window of my house. I can see the nukes at the edge of the city. Everywhere is urban. A few children play on the sidewalk with shiny new baseball things. Several adults stand guard and do not let them go into the street. I have seen it happen too many times. Children flattened like bugs by crazy drivers.

It happens fast. The kids on the street scream. The TV flashes a warning. I dive down onto the ground. Sirens wail above my head. It has happened. One politician has angered another. The nukes at the edge of the city blast off into the air, the noise filling my ears.

Then the whole world explodes.

Hello everyone! I hope everyone had a great holiday season, despite the craziness of the world. Recently, things have been happening in the U.S. I’m of course talking about the riots at the Capitol building. However, you’ve definitely been hearing about this for the past week so I’m not going to dwell. I’m an optimist and I think that the media can be a bit. . . .relentless about news sometimes. This post is going to be short, and I am writing it during my free time in class.

I enjoy writing stories a lot and I have a big imagination. I’m sure this will surprise you guys, but I am currently writing a book about a fantasy world called Iroth. Anyways, the point is I am going to start a thing where I will try to write a short story every week and post it. Here’s the catch. YOU GUYS can give me prompts! If I’m running low for some reason, I’ll take one off of Google. I’m trusting you guys to not make me scavenge the deep recesses of the Internet. 😁

I hope that every has had a great week! Remember to stay strong even with all the challenges! I am also going to start sharing an inspirational quote or proverb at the end of every post, so here is today’s: “There is no shame in not knowing; the shame lies in not finding out.” -Russian Proverb

Hello, everyone! I have been really busy with school, so I am sorry that I have not posted in a while! I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving.

Today, my post is going to be about a treasure map.

It all started when my sister, Chase, me, my cousin Mario, and my Uncle John went fishing around Thanksgiving 2 years ago. We were fishing for redfish, a highly elusive but delicious fish. (Or so my uncle said)

We were out on the canoe. It was not very windy or cold but the horse flies were murder. The kids were wearing life jackets that made it a little difficult to move around in. We were frustrated as we hadn’t caught anything. We kept seeing mullets out of the corner of our eyes. Mullets are smallish fish that jump out of the water and jump back in.

We were heading back, the canoe and oars cutting through the murky water. Suddenly, Uncle John pointed and said “Hey, a redfish!”

We all swiveled our heads around and we heard a splash. “Dang it, we missed it!” I said fiercely.

Suddenly, Mario pointed. “What is that?”

Me and my sister looked over to where he was pointing. It was an odd shape bobbing in the water. “What are you waiting for, guys, we have to paddle!” Chase yelped.

We all paddled furiously. “Look! Mario, you can scoop it up with the net! Hurry!” I yelled.

Mario’s hands fumbled as he scooped up the odd shape with the net. “Wow, look! It’s…wow..I can’t believe…it’s a BOTTLE!” he said excitedly.

“WHAT?!?!??” Me and Chase screeched.

“LEMME SEE!!!” I said.

Mario handed it to me and I inspected it. It was a green bottle, it was about the size of a wine bottle, and the top was sealed with wax. On the top of the cork was a pirate symbol! “LOOK GUYS!” I yelled.

The other kids looked at it and I said to Uncle John, “Can we go back to Grammy and Dodaddy’s?!??!?!?”

Uncle John said “Sure, I don’t think we’re going to catch any redfish.”

Chase handed the bottle to me and I placed it carefully in between my legs. We paddled frantically towards shore. Mario hopped out and ran to explain to my grandpa, Dodaddy.

We drove home, me holding the bottle very carefully. When we got home Chase and Mario rushed to explain to my grandma, and I placed the bottle on the counter. I looked inside the green glass. There was a roll of paper tied with twine inside.

My grandpa took a knife and wedged it in between the wax and the cork and managed to work the cork out. He got the paper and handed me the scroll. I ran over to the couch, Chase and Mario saying “OPEN IT!”

I sat down and carefully opened the map. Inside was a map. It said E. Teach, 1718 and had a drawing of a lake and an island. It was telling us to go 15 paces south of the Big Oak. Suddenly, Dodaddy pointed out the window and said “Hey, isn’t that drawing talking about over there?”

All the kids froze and we all swiveled our heads around to look. “You’re right!” I shrieked.

“C’mon guys, we have to get shovels and go!” Mario yelled.

Dodaddy, Uncle John, my dad, my stepmom; Natalie, and my Aunt Julie all stood up. “We’ll get shovels.” Aunt Julie and Uncle John said.

Dad and Dodaddy went with them and Natalie decided to interview us. “How do you feel? What if you get famous?” Little we did we know it was a ruse.

We answered questions with giddiness. The other adults came back and we set off for the island. Aunt Julie laid a wooden board across a stream wide stream so we could get across. We stepped across and ran ahead. I was clutching the map, and the other kids were not even fighting that I got to do it. Now that is some serious cooperation. Also, I was the oldest so I was entitled.

We located the Big Oak and we stepped fifteen times. We were about to dig when Uncle John said, “Wait, you need to take huge pirate steps.” He then went from the Big Oak took 15 GINORMOUS steps.

We began to dig with Aunt Julie’s help and the other adults watched with interest. Suddenly, about a foot down I saw something. “Hey, look, Aunt Julie, it’s a parcel!”

“No, I think it’s just a root.” But she was wrong. It was a parcel!

This should have struck me as suspicious as the map was supposed to be 300 years old and the parcel should have been deeper, but my 9 year old mind wasn’t thinking correctly.

I carefully lifted it out and shook it. “LOOK!” I yelled. I handed it to the other kids to look at. It was wrapped in paper and twine. I shook it. “It sounds like coins!”

Chase handed the parcel back to me, and I took started jogging back towards the house. “Wait, Abby, shouldn’t we unwrap it!??!” Mario said.

“No, we have to get back to the house!” I yelled back.

I skidded to a stop at the stream. I was tired, and I had to wait for Aunt Julie to help me cross the bridge. The adults finally, finally finished lumbering to the stream and we crossed as quickly as we could. I then started sprinting towards the house, Mario and Chase close behind. “GRAMMY!” we yelled.

We stopped at the picnic table in front of the barn. “Let’s open it, c’mon!” Chase said.

“No, we can’t yet, we have to wait for Grammy and the other adults.” I said. “I know, the adults are slow, but there might some sort of trick or dangerous thing inside.” I added after they both sighed and rolled their eyes. I joined in.

Grammy came out and said “I’m proud of y’all. Oh look, here come the other adults.”

The other adults sat down and we all tore open the paper. Inside was a small, handsome dark brown wooden container. We opened it and there was a small bag with some cool rocks and some plastic gems. That was also suspicious, but I didn’t blink an eye. There was also 36 dollars in quarters. That was also suspicious, but I still didn’t look twice. But I’m not usually that dumb. Excitement makes you bend the circumstances. Makes you turn a blind eye.

We split the money and each got about 12 dollars. We also split the artifacts. I got the map. Mario got the bottle. Chase got the gems and the rocks.

Now here’s the catch. It was not actually E. Teach’s treasure. IT WAS UNCLE JOHN. HE PLANTED THE MAP AND MADE THE TREASURE. He was trying to be nice. And he made a memory. I’m exposing him once and for all.

THE END

Visit TheSistersCraftsShop on Etsy for bracelets! More to come!

1. Write it down a journal or diary.
2. Try to spend some time alone and listen to music.
3. Take a steamy shower or bath.
4. Eat one of your favorite foods or drinks.
5. Find a comfortable outfit and sleep.

Today my post is going to be about Halloween. One of my favorite holidays is Halloween. I didn’t get to go trick-or-treating last year because of a snowstorm and this year I can’t go because of Covid-19.

Anyways, that’s not the point of this story. The point of this post is to talk about Halloween. This year, I’m either going to be an Ancient Greek or Rue from the Hunger Games. A little history lesson.

Halloween originated about 2000 years ago in an area that is now Ireland. It was originally the Celtic festival of Samhain. They would make bonfires and wear costumes to scare away ghosts. In the 8th century, Pope Gregory III decided that November 1st was a time to honor saints. This celebration had some traditions from Samhain. The night before this day was called All Hallows Eve, then eventually Halloween. Over the last 2000 or so years, it has morphed into the jack o’ lantern, scary, trick-or-treating holiday we know today.

I love Halloween because every year I trick-or-treat on the same block, where my best friend happens to live, and its really fun. The house next door to her goes all out and every year it’s something different. For example one year, there were these coffins and fake zombies were jumping out and they hired this lady to dress like a zombie and walk around the yard. Everyone just stopped to watch. Every year, someone always operates this motorized ghost pushing a baby carriage. It’s pretty creepy.

Another reason I love Halloween is the decorations. Decorating for Halloween is one of my favorite things in the world. I love the pumpkins, fake cobwebs, do not enter signs, spiders, bats, coffins, clowns, skeletons, rats, you name it. It’s all just so exciting. I love looking at other people’s decorations, as well. Some people are much, much more committed to decorating in Chicago, so it’s really fun to see.

One last thing is all I have time for today. I love the snacks! There are so many Halloween themed snacks. I’ll share some links with you guys soon. Here are some that I’ve heard of or had:

1. Blood punch
2. Pretzel broomsticks
3. Witch fingers
4. Marshmallow monsters
5. Polyjuice potion
6. Throwing up pumpkin dip

That’s all we have time for today, I hope you enjoyed! Stay safe, see you next time!