The Vanishing Stars

by Chloe Keenan, age 11
The Vanishing Stars Chloe loves to write, sew, play piano, and draw. She is 11 and enjoys writing fantasy and surreal fiction.

“The room got dark and I shuddered. The wind fell on my flawless neck, painted of pink roses. The aroma is full of sugar and dark thoughts. I feel evil and want to attack.”

The room got dark and I shuddered. The wind fell on my flawless neck, painted of pink roses. The aroma is full of sugar and dark thoughts. I feel evil and want to attack. I look into the mirror, disapproving of what my cat did to my new nose paste. I guess I have to live with a half nose.

Arcoc lifts me off my feet and throws me into the air. The new aroma of blood fills the air. I see a pale figure fall to the floor. Arcoc throws me down to see the new attraction of the pale figure. Blond curls with a floral aroma fill my face as I lean down to see the pale figure.

Storms of people dressed in neon yellow fill my sight. I see men, women, and chimpanzees. I pick up my long dress and run the opposite way, trying to avoid contact with them. They gingerly tiptoe to the pale figure and each kiss her on the nose as a last goodbye. After their kiss, the person looked at the stars, counted to six, and vanished into the starry night.

The following folks and I come to the pale figure with blond curls after the neon yellow people. We crowd around her and look at her. Based on majority, we agree she is dead and bury her in the town graveyard which happened to be in the middle of town, so we can admire our prey.

Here in Yealnbaya, we love to feel satisfied with our work. Just yesterday, I brought a knife into my neighbor’s shower, and just the day past, he died. So proud, huh! Anyways, I continue to dance with Arcoc, and we dance ‘til dawn. When the sun comes out, we all hurry to our houses.

The houses in Yealnbaya are black with broken wood. Outside, they look like a haunted village, but inside they are super modern. They are blood red and glass with lots of windows, yet there are no windows outside.

I return to the Rest-a-roomea and look in my makeup box, taking out my second nose regrowth product. It smells of dogs and takes 97 seconds to harden. The worst part is the only color the medicine shoppe had was green, so once it drys I’ll have to recolor my nose pale peach.

Ninety-seven seconds are up, and the half of my nose that was missing is back. The best part is that it dried white, not green! I grab the pale peach paint from my sister’s Rest-a-roomea and color my nose. Next in my beauty routine, I polish my rosed neck with pink to lighten the color. After this, my routine is over, and I return to my Bed-da-doom and close the door.

Fantasies of the scene with Arcoc and the dead lady haunt me as I try to sleep. As the clock strikes 12:13 p.m., I hear my cuckoo clock chime, my sister’s bell clock chime, and my brother’s howl clock scream.

We arise, dress, and meet in the Grand-a-kitchen-ree where we do our morning routine. We sit on the table and do our dances. Two kicks right, one left, hop down, and freeze for 14 seconds. Then we sit down, awaiting our breakfast. The magic robots come and cook for us. It is delicious, and I love it.

 

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