First Prize
The Enchanted Island
By Navya Saini
“Once upon a time, there was a girl who stumbled upon a magical island. Her name I
cannot say, but I can tell you what happened while she was there.”
“From the outside, it looked as though it was foggy, but the reality was very different. It
was a foggy forest, or appeared to be one, with a different animal habitat in each clearing. The
mist and woods separated each one.”
“The girl had always had an adventurous streak, although she had never felt more
compelled to explore. So she wandered on, as if in a daze. Not that she knew what she was
looking for.”
“The girl passed through the first layer of trees and mist and her breath caught. ‘Wow...
What is this place? I-its so amazing! So... wow!’ For she was surrounded by the African
savannah, or at least a magical rendering of it. Giraffes, hippos, elephants and rhinos milled
about in the heat. A lion leapt over her head, making the girl scream. Animals she couldn’t name
were everywhere; odd, deer-like, or mouse-like, or birds.”
“‘I can understand you!’ the girl exclaimed to no creature in particular, for she truly could,
at least in this world, understand them all.”
“‘Magic of the fairies,’ suggested a giraffe who’d been eating acacia leaves.”
“‘We’re all vegetarians, too, here on this island,’ added a leopard, calmly walking out of
the tall yellow grass.”
“‘Vegans, actually,’ corrected an elephant who was wallowing in the mud.”
“And this was only a portion of the girl’s adventures. As if in a daze, she wandered, shy
and nervous, but her eyes were wide in excitement. ‘Wow’ seemed to be the only word she was
capable of speaking here. ‘Wow when she saw the buffalo and prairie dogs, when she watched
grazing deer and prowling wolves, when she encountered a large, round panda among the
Chinese bamboo forests, ‘wow’ when the huge, majestic amber-and-ebony tiger leapt over her
head swiftly and asked the girl if she could swim.”
“She was shy at first, even hiding when she came upon a frigid Canadian waterfall with a
brown bear prowling in it. But she was able to answer the tiger’s questions and play with the
cubs of the bear, who was hunting salmon- or at least, plants that looked like the red and green
fish who jumped up waterfalls. The bear didn’t even bother with the real salmon.”
“The girl didn’t remember a time when she’d had more fun. She frolicked with
chimpanzees and gorillas in the Central African greenery, goggled at colorful, dazzling Birds of
Paradise in the tropics, and befriended the creepy-crawlies she’d once squirmed at the very
sight of. She even visited a habitat that looked suspiciously like some animal’s fur- in giant size!”
“After panting in the afternoon heat of the Saharan Desert with camels, she stumbled
absent-mindedly into the next habitat, thinking about how animals in the human world (she was,
by this point, convinced that this was a magical realm) deserved better than climate change and
pollution.”
“‘Aaaaahh!’ she screamed as she clawed her way back out again, for once grateful for
the hot sun. She coughed and choked, her mouth filled with seawater. Seeing a huge eye in the
darkness that belonged to some unknown creature had scared her beyond consolation.”
“When she did go in, though, she found herself in a magical bubble, holding a lantern
that let her explore this place, which was evidently the deep sea. The giant eye had belonged to
an even bigger squid, who apologized for the fright.
“‘I’ve always loved the deep sea,’ the girl told him, ‘but of course I never could go there- I
mean, come down here.’”
“The squid nodded. ‘In the human world, these submarines come down here with
people and lights. It’s nice, of course, but scary. I, for one, have always tried to hide from them.’
The girl soon befriended more creatures than most people saw in a lifetime, and many of them
had never been named by humans.”
“‘So many colors and creatures and noises... this place is like a city!’ the girl breathed
when she finally left the deep sea and came out in a coral reef. And indeed it was. After meeting
many more aquatic animals and seeing many more underwater habitats, like narwhals and
walruses in the Arctic, penguins in the Antarctic, sharks and whales in the open sea, and even
exploring rivers and lakes, the girl finally reached the center of the island.”
Sometime during the journey she had realized that she was going in a spiral, and that if she
kept going she would ultimately reach the center.
“Here, the girl caught her breath yet again. This place looked like a bunch of different
habitats all in one. All of the ones she’d seen. Some she hadn’t. She recognized so many
individual animals she had recently met. She saw ones she must have missed before. Here
there were extinct species: animals no human alive had met, animals like dodo birds and
dinosaurs and Tasmanian tigers and so many more.”
“Scattered about were quaint little huts they seemed to belong to people, but were
neater than the girl had ever seen, given that they were made of natural materials. Walking
around this habitat were beautiful winged figures: fairies. Now the girl understood that this land
belonged to them.”
“‘See what happens when we don’t preserve nature.’ a voice whispered in the girl’s ear.
Suddenly the entire island shook. The island was transformed from paradise into a city, all
colors gone. The animals were gone, replaced by farms and fields and houses. The mist had
dissolved. The plants were gone. Animals hid in every bit of nature they could find. And the air,
land, and sea were all polluted.”
“The girl was suddenly whisked away, sent home. She always tried to appreciate and
preserve nature from that day on.”
I finished recounting my memories: “I know this because that girl was me.
​
Honorable Mention
Slaughterhouses to animal sanctuaries: The story of
Caleb and his adventures
By Shiven Chauhan
​
Lots of pigs are killed every year. And they aren’t just killed painlessly but electrocuted or
thrown in scalding hot water. Pigs are the 6th most killed animal in the world. Western countries
are often very angry that some people in Asia eat dogs, but the only difference between eating a
dog or a pig is your perception and what society has said is fine. So that is why today I am going
to be telling you a story that hopefully opens your eyes to how our animal friends are treated.
Caleb was just a boy who helped in the pig slaughterhouses and the farms although he did not
want to. He had no choice because his family was poor and he needed to make money. He had a
dream that the world should drastically reduce the amount of pigs slain in a year over 1 billion at
the time.There was a huge pig farm only 300 meters away from the slaughterhouse and Caleb
would go back and forward from helping the pigs at the farm to seeing them killed at the
slaughterhouses every time he saw one die his heart broke after all they were living breathing
creatures and had feelings too. One day he saw a truck coming to import pigs to the
slaughterhouse and it suddenly crashed. Pigs fell out everywhere. Fortunately there was an
animal sanctuary official nearby and came to the rescue and helped the pigs.
"Hey wait up, may I help you?” said Caleb to the official.
“Sure you can help us at the animal sanctuary!”said the official
“Okay, by the way what is your name?” replied Caleb
“Oh I am Charles and what is your name?” he said “My name is Caleb,” he replied
“ We are planning to set a mass breakout from the farm and save as many animals as possible”
said Charles
“We are willing to pay you $5 per pig you convince them to let go” said Charles “We are also
willing to give you $250 if you spy on them for us and tell us all the passcodes for the pig pens”
said charles seriously “You have deal” replied Caleb
They told Caleb to come to work there tomorrow and when he came back home from the farms
with $4 of earnings he bought some dinner for himself. The next day he went to the animal
sanctuary. The place was just amazing. The pigs were given amazing care and food and so were
all of the other animals. Some were given pitted peaches or magical food unlike in the farms just
a little bit of grass. Today he was assigned to feed the pigs magical plants which gave the pigs
the ability to talk.
“Where did you get these?”Caleb asked an official. “Oh some person found them and the pigs
loved them and they gave the pigs special powers.
Well Caleb had heard of the magical weapons they used to kill the pigs in the slaughter
houses such as wands or even chickens that could breathe fire. He found it amazing what could
be used for good could be used for bad. Days past working and spying and suddenly one day the
speakers announced something “All workers for the animal sanctuary please come to the
podium”. We are delivering a speech meanwhile a team goes to rescue the pigs they explained.
Caleb was assigned with Pig pen 5,6,7 and when he was finished he had run back for the speech.
He ran in and quickly spotted the pens he rummaged for his papers in his bag.For pig pen 5 he
had no trouble nor for pig pen 6 but for pig pen 7 none of the suspected passwords were working
at all.
Caleb was desperate he tried random things then he saw a shadow coming to the room he was
going to get caught. It was a giant robot holding a laser beam in one hand and a knife in the
other.
Hey what are you doing you are not supposed to be here security mode on. He fired a laser beam
directly at Caleb. It hit him but Caleb didn’t care he finally cracked the code for pig pen 7 and he
ran when he saw a giant pig running down at the robot.
While the two giants were brawling Caleb was running putting the pigs back.
“Phew I did it I saved the pigs” he thought He ran back to the speech
He didn't recognize the speaker; but he put that out of his mind he found a seat and sat down.
Everyone working at the slaughterhouses you are hurting these mass slaughtered animals
whether it be chickens,turkeys,pigs or cows you need to stop.They are living breathing creatures
and have a right to live. We understand you need food but you are killing over 1 billion
pigs,turkeys,chickens and cows. We need to drastically reduce the amount we are slaying.
The food you get out of it may taste good for you guys but they aren’t all that healthy. Studies
have shown eating processed meat causes cancer as declared by the World Health Organization
in 2015. The WHO findings were drafted by a panel of 22 experts who reviewed decades of
research. According to The American Cancer Society,
processed meat includes hot dogs, ham, bacon, sausage. It refers to meat that has been treated in
some way to preserve or flavor it. Processes include salting, curing, fermenting. Red meat is
beef, pork, lamb etc. Twenty-two experts from 10 countries reviewed more than 800 studies to
reach their conclusions. They found that eating 50 grams of processed meat every day increased
the risk of colorectal cancer by 18%. For red meat, there was evidence of increased risk of
colorectal, pancreatic cancer.
Hopefully my story convinced you to help save our animal friends
First Prize
The Healing Forest
By Miraya Vardhan
​
​
BANG! A sound like a gunshot disrupts my midair kick towards
the half-broken goal. I glance into the house. Then back to the soccer
ball. I drop my foot.
I slip off my shoes and open the door coated with bark. I freeze
when I find my mom in the kitchen, with a key and hammer in hand and
looking triumphant.
“Why—” Then I noticed the pantry door, all boarded up and locked like
my favorite teacher, Mr.Ohana’s room when he left.
“There’s some kind of infestation, and I think they might be
coming from the pantry,”Mom explains.
“Not the opossums again,”my brother, Lucas, grumbles, all the way
from his room.
“Or the ants,”my dad adds with distaste from the front door.
“Whatever it is it’s not gonna do any harm,”Mom declares.
“But where’d all the food in there go?”I ask, staring outside at the
Chicago skyline.
Nobody answered my question so I turned around... to find Mom, Dad
and Lucas, huddled over the coffee table like they were having a pep talk
in the middle of a basketball game. Sorta of annoyed they never thought
to include me, I creep up behind them, until I can peek over their
shoulders. I see a waxy vintage paper with ornate red tips with a...letter,
typed in an elegant but business-like font.
“Can I see?” Mom jumps, but she doesn’t say anything, just scoots
over and when I look at her face it’s frozen in an expression I know too
well. Shock that turns into panic. I scan the letter.
Dear Citizens of Cherokee Village,
2
This letter concerns Cherokee Woods, which we know are not your
property, by law, but we know you consider it your own. That’s why this
letter has been sent to every single household in Cherokee Town.
As of May, 2023, a very popular fashion rental company, CaaStle,
wanted a new of ice settlement. They found this area, Cherokee Woods,
in particular suitable. We’ve signed all the papers and forms to cut
down the forest, and our last consent is the people of Cherokee Town. We
are asking for your town as a whole to give permission.
As it dawns on me what they’re saying, my stomach wants to vomit my
entire breakfast. They want to cut the forest. Time has stopped. My heart
nearly stops beating. My vision has suddenly blurred, but I force myself
to keep reading. I need to make sure.
In case you decide against it, please listen to our reasoning. We’ve heard
complaints of infestations in your homes, and we’ve done some further
research. We’ve found that there’s a plague in the woods and it’s
targeting a family of plants known as mellow marsh. Bugs and several
insects feed of of this plant family and they are dying. Frogs feed on
bugs and insects, and they are dying. Birds and snakes feed on frogs and
they are dying. And...you can see how this goes. Soon the entire forest
will be dead, but meanwhile your food supplies will be completely
infested. We’re doing nothing but good by killing the forest
And that’s not all—we know that this forest means a lot to you, and we
will give repayment. We will build you a new plaza or a playground or
anything you would like—free of cost!
Please send us a follow-up letter within a week to the address or email
on the envelope. Include your new choice of structure. Please consider
our reasons and meet up with the town to make the right decision.
Sincerely,
The Pacific Lumber Institute
My eyes blur completely and the words each morph to form snakes.
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Venomous, lethal snakes... I stumble back, unable to breath, to think, to
do anything at all. I don’t know how much time has passed, but soon I
can make out lumpy black shapes. “Ella?”
“It’s going to be okay.” But the sentence sounds more like a question. I
jerk upward and find Mom, Dad and Lucas right above me. The details
come rushing back like a tidal wave, and they nearly knock me to the
floor again.
“They want to kill our forest,”I say, my words steady, for how shaky and
scared I’m feeling.
“We’re planning a meeting this evening,”Dad sighs, “and I hope
everyone sees sense.”
“This evening...” Lucas trails off.
“I know it seems soon, but everyone already has very decided opinions,
and the later it is the worse it will be,”Dad says, “just get your rest till
then. Especially you, Ella. Blackouts aren’t good signs.”
I blacked out? Although it’s only fair for what’s happening. No. It’s not
gonna happen.
I have to make sure of that.
* * *
Of course I can’t get rest, and I realize kicking the soccer ball will not
help, so the best option is going to the woods. Not to say good-bye.
I yell at the house that I’m going.
“I’m coming!”Lucas shouts back.
“No you’re not!” But he’s already out. I sigh and start walking out of
the driveway. There’s no one out in the hot July summer, so we turn
through the network of clumped, newly-painted neighborhoods. This
used to be a Native-American town, before they were forced to leave,
but parts of it are still natural. Like the bark on the doors. Or the thick
foliage above our heads. Or the woods. We jump over the town's fence
and walk through the fields until we’re in the tree's shadows. The woods
4
seem a mix of more ominous and sweet. A nightingale sweeps over our
head, singing a sweet melody and diving in the next row of trees.
Instinctively, I follow it over the low hill, past the trees we decorate with
New Year resolutions and Christmas lists, past the pond and then it flies
over the cave right as we touch the bottom. Wait...cave?
“I never knew there was a cave here,”Lucas says, sliding his hand over
the granite. I peek inside the opening and it looks empty, and I think it’s
safe to go inside. It proves to be empty except...
“Mellow marsh,”I whisper. A healthy green plant with purple buds on
the end is at the end of the cave, with a cherry-red notebook.
“Why is it in the cave?”Lucas asks.
“I don’t know.” I flip open the notebook, which seems to be a journal.
The first page says:
June 9, 1999
The woods have too many garter snakes and we lost our third man.
The bullfrogs have overpopulated, due to the insects. Something must be
done.
June 11, 1999
A doctor from Chicago suggested we implant a plant called mellow
marsh in the woods. Bugs and insects feed on the juice of its leaves, and
they will automatically migrate to this area. That might not make sense,
but we plan to put a plague to this plant, to balance out this
overpopulation of species.
July 11, 1999
Plan Mellow Marsh is working! A few people complained of infestations,
but that was only when the plague wasn’t in full action. Now that it is,
there are no more complaints. Nature is back in harmony! Let’s hope it
stays that way.
5
I thought I couldn’t be shocked more...but now I am. This whole thing
was a solution. It wasn’t a problem.
“This is evidence,”Lucas whispers. I nod. And strong evidence too.
Anyone who wants to cut down the woods can’t deny this. “What are we
waiting for?”Lucas says, his eyes sparkling, “let’s show this at the
meeting!”
“One second.” I flip to the last page and sure enough in cursive it says:
Signing out,
John S. Harold
“John S. Harold,”I repeat, “I’ve heard his name before at school.”
“What are we waiting for?”Lucas says again, “let’s show everyone!”
* * *
“Let’s keep this till the end,”I say to Lucas as we walk back, “like our
secret weapon.”
Everyone’s already gathered in the courtyard around the fountain, so we
find our parents, and wait silently. Mom raises her eyebrow at the
notebook, but there’s no way we can tell her with everyone so close. On
the dot, Grand Jerry ascends the rock in the fountain and looks upon the
crowd. It takes me a moment to notice Grand Jerry had cried. His voice
is weary but strong as he says, “I assume the news of our dear Cherokee
Woods reached all of our homes. And I think it is utter nonsense.” A roar
of agreement meets him. But a few faces are in disagreement.
Even...disgust.
“What of the infestations?” Silence. No one has an answer.
“My food supply is cut in half, and if it continues my family will
starve,”Claudia, our neighbor, says, “I cannot side with the woods.” I
can see people—many people—share a flicker of agreement.
“We have evidence that will change your mind.” It takes a second for me
to realize Lucas spoke. He glances at me and I nod. “This is the
notebook of John S. Harold,”I say, fighting waves of nausea when
6
everyone turns to me. I fret about presentations the whole night, and this
was the whole town. I wanted to crawl into the ground. “It has evidence
against the infestations.” I hand the notebook to Grand Jerry. He reads it
aloud to the crowd, adding a bunch of entries we never read. By the end
everyone is speechless. “So, as this notebook says, the plague will go
away soon,”Grand Jerry says, “I promise. And don’t you all see? We
use the forest’s herbs and plants in our cooking. We go there for
enjoyment. The trees produce oxygen and shade. They keep out the
storm. It helps our village in uncountable ways.”
“Now, all in favor of saving the woods?” A bunch of hands go up, but
are there ones I can’t see? “All in favor of killing it?” I close my eyes.
But......not a single hand is raised. A weight that I’d held since the
morning lifts off my shoulders.
“The matter is settled,”Grand Jerry says, “but not without thanks to Ella
and Lucas Jones!” The crowd applauds wildly, and I duck when I feel
pats on my shoulder.
We headed back home, and that was probably the happiest night of my
life.
2 days later...
“Are you ready to send it?”Grand Jerry asks. The letter had been read
and revised by all the members of the town, and our turn was last. I’d
already made my edits and was reading it for the fourth time:
Dear Pacific Lumber Institute,
We’ve met together and discussed the letter you sent. And we’ve
decided to kindly refuse. Not a single person is in favor of cutting the
woods. We’ve discovered a notebook dating back to 1999 belonging to
John S. Harold, in the woods. The notebook implies that the plague was
a plan to balance out nature, and that it’s working. The infestations have
stopped and the woods are in perfect condition.
7
Our town, as a whole, cannot stand to have something so
meaningful disappear. Still, we thank you on your of er to build us
something new. There’s also many open lands in Chicago for a new
company. We wish CaaStle best of luck in their sales, and we’ll even be
customers! But please, the woods will stay.
Sincerely,
Citizens of Cherokee Village
“It’s perfect,”I say. Grand Jerry smiles.
“I owe you and Lucas. The woods would be gone without you.”
“We played a very small part,”I say, smiling at the compliment.
“But an important one,”he replies. Grand Jerry seals the letter—as
everyone has already read the final copy—and turns towards the door.
“Thank you,”he says, as he turns the handle, “for bringing us harmony.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way,”Mom says from behind me.
But right now things felt too happy and safe to become problematic and
ruined. Today was a day to celebrate!
The End :)
​
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​
Honorable Mention
Nala
By Anikaa Arora
A storm was brewing out the door, the sky painted with the darkest of grays and blues emitting a
glum and melancholy mood, one that was now flowing through my veins. I push myself away from the
window - exhibiting a view of the enormous evergreen trees that on top of, one would surely be able to
greet the clouds and the stars - and direct my attention to the boxes that littered my bedroom floor.
Halfheartedly, I open one of the boxes and start pulling out the contents, a table lamp, supply boxes, and
bundles of wires, stopping when my hand glides over cool metal, my fingers recognizing the twists it has in
store. Slowly, I pull out the object and lay it on the carpet, a small smile appears on my lips. Three girls,
not older than the age of eight are staring before me, friendship bracelets adorn their wrists, and a
breathtaking castle painted in the most princessy pinks in the background, In the middle is me, my thin,
clumsy arms thrown across the shoulders of the other two, my best friends. My light brown hair is a mess
strewn across my face, and a headband with two Mickey Mouse ears sits in it, a failed attempt to keep it
tame. On my right, mid-laugh is a raven-haired girl dressed like a princess, and on my right a girl with fiery
red hair and wild freckles has her tongue stuck out, her eyes glowing with a smile.
I trace my finger over the frame of the picture, reliving the memory in my mind. It was our first time
at Disneyland after months of pleading with our parents. A lone tear wells up in my eye and snakes down
my cheek, our final goodbyes echoing in my head. Less than a week ago, my family moved from our home
in California to Utah having to say bye to the town I grew up in and everything in it. Grasping the picture
frame, I stand up to begin pacing the length of my room. It's much bigger than the one I had in California,
almost twice the size with wide windows almost completely covering one of the walls. Walking, I trail my
hand against the emerald green wall trying to memorize its feel. After a few rounds, my mind begins to
wander and I begin to feel as if the walls of the room have started to close in on me. I make my way to the
other side of the room grasping the brass doorknob and twisting it to the right, watching as the door
slowly inches open with the wind. I walk out into the upstairs hallway and follow its route to the large,
open loft, dark blue curtains are pulled close around the window, only emitting a sliver of murky light.
Two blue bean bags sit in the room facing a TV mounted to the beige walls, a man with ruffled black hair
with hints of gray in it wearing sweatpants and a sports jersey sitting in one of them. He turns away from
the TV - now displaying the weatherman with the weather forecast for the day, rainy - to me.
“Hey, honey! How’s it going? Made any progress with your unpacking?” he called across the room.
“Hey, Dad. It’s been okay. I only got some boxes left,” I replied to him.
“That’s good.”
“I’m thinking I might roam around a little outside.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Don’t go too far or stay out late.”
“Yeah, okay. Bye.”
My feet shuffle across the hardwood floor and down the steps. When I reach the bottom, I grab a
hoodie from one of the chairs in the dining room and pull it over my head. From the fruit bowl, in the
middle of the dining table, I grab an apple and a bottle of water and slip on my high-tops. Outside, a
breeze erupts through the setting, sending a shiver down my spine, but it feels good. I trail along the
sidewalk, my footsteps echoing along the empty street until I reach a fork in the road, where I slow down.
To my left, the neighborhood continues, showing dozens of houses, but to my right, a small path cuts
through a small field, hidden away from the eyes of the busy souls. I take the path on the right, which
about 100 feet in makes a sudden twist to the right, leading me behind the street of houses, and into the
woods where just a while ago I was staring at the evergreen trees from the window. I journey deeper
through the forest where the leaves and branches of the trees entwine themselves together to create a
canopy over my head and with each step it grows thicker and darker. I mainly keep to the path which
provides me with a way home, if I ever want to turn back, but it doesn’t seem like I will.
The forest was alive in a way I had never experienced before, everywhere you turned there was a form
of life. Insects were forging for food, birds singing their songs, and squirrels scurrying up trees. For the
first time since I moved here, I felt at home. I felt a sprinkle of water on my hand and then another in my
hair, deciding that my parents would start to worry about me being out alone in the rain, I begrudgingly
started to head back. That’s when something caught my eye.
Something was nestled out of sight in one of the evergreen trees, only a sliver of it peeked out of the
leaves of the tree. Keeping my eye on the object, afraid to lose it to the now spreading darkness, I made
my way towards the tree. I trailed my hand across its ginormous trunk, circling it, when I felt something
out of place, against the rough bark. A piece of rope? I looked at it, tugging on it, and a few pieces of
wood that I thought were part of the tree shook with the rope. I inched back to look at the rope and
planks of wood, which were arranged in the form of a ladder. A grin stretched across my face in
accomplishment. Time to take my chances. I outstretched one arm and grasped one of the planks, then the
other, then one foot, and the other. Keeping the same rhythm, I inched my way up the ladder, my heart
racing in anticipation. As I took the final step I reached a dead-end, Ugh! It was as if someone had put a
roof on the tree. I almost screamed in frustration, but my outburst stopped when my eyes found a tiny
space between a square of wood and the rest of the “roof”. I pushed on the square and it opened like a
trapdoor. Following the newly revealed steps of the ladder, I found a sight that made my jaw drop.
I pushed myself up and off the ladder, and onto the floor of the object, the one that was hidden in the
leaves and branches of the tree, before my eyes was a treehouse. Though cobwebs strung themselves across
the length of it, broken planks and old crates were situated in the corners, and vines grew up the walls, the
overall structure was looking sturdy. I circle the treehouse, admiringly, when a black and brown blur
caught my eye, disappearing behind a crate. I watched carefully, doing my best not to blink, otherwise, I
would miss it.
Slowly, it peeked out from behind. Its eyes caught mine, they were completely black highlighted with
some of the bleak light coming from the window, and were surrounded by light brown fur, bordered by a
bit of black. A small pink nose centered its face, and its mouth was turned up in the corners almost as if it
were smiling. Big ears stuck out at the top of its head, and dark fur covered the rest of its body. I tried to
lure it out with the apple, placing it on the floor a couple of feet away from it. It inched out of its hiding
spot and sniffed the apple, satisfied it began to nibble it. I wasn’t completely sure if it would eat it, but the
poor animal must have been starving enough to. Its tail was alternating in rings of beige and black when
something clicked in my memory.
My mom, who was a vet, talked about an experience just a couple of months before we moved,
something stressful about a wild animal. I played my way through the memory waiting until she said the
name of the creature and its appearance. Wait, she said “ring-something-cat” and it had a tail with rings
just like what appeared before me now. Ugh! Think! Think! Wait! I got it! Wasn’t it a “Ring-Tailed Cat”?
Yes, that was it. I stared at the cat, a feeling of accomplishment washing over me. It had finished with the
apple and looked up at me hopeful that I had more. No food, but water. Holding up the water bottle to the
animal to try and give it an idea of what I was doing, I rummage around the area so I could find
something to pour some of it in. I am awarded with a small open wooden box, I twist open the cap of the
bottle and let a gentle stream of water pour into it, and then push the box towards the creature. It moves
toward the water and I watch as it does so, seeing a small limp in its step, moving to the side to get a better
view of the leg. I saw a glint of red beneath the fur of the leg, it was hurt, not good. I considered calling
my mom, but I knew that the poor animal that was used to being out and thriving freely might lose that
chance at freedom. So what should I do, I knew that it wasn’t a choice. I would do everything I could to
help the creature and would only resort to outside help if it was an absolute necessity, I would save this
creature. I would save Nala.
Over the next few days, I visited the treehouse regularly, every day bringing food and water to Nala. I
made sure she was comfortable and by the second day, I was sure she thought of me as a friend and not a
foe, as she let me pet her soft fur. That night I researched everything I could about how to secure the
wound and the next day when I returned I did so, glad when I realized it was a cut that would be healed in
a few days. During the two-week wait, Nala became like the pet I had always wished for, and when the
time came to check the wound, it was completely healed. I knew I had to do what I had been dreading for
so long, I would need to release her back into the wild. The next morning, Nala and I headed out of the
treehouse. I watched as she explored the forest, but after a radius of 50 feet away from me, she would turn
back at me. I gave her a sad smile and she understood what it had come to, I could tell by the change of
expression on her face. She looked back at me one last time and gave me that look of a smile before she
took the step that put her on her next journey and me on mine. And though we would not be by each
other in real life I was confident that we were both standing by each other during rough times, that we
would be together in our hearts. During some of those days, I was almost sure I saw a ringed tail matched
with the most beautiful black eyes crawling by my window...