Power of the Pen is a state-wide creative writing competition for seventh and eighth grade students. There are competitions at a district, regional, and state level. You are put in a room with five other competitors and given 35 minutes to write a short story relating to the provided prompt. It is then judged against the other five stories and ranked out of six, and you are given anywhere between 75 to 100 quality points based on the work. There are three total rounds, and you write one story per round. I went to the state tournament in seventh grade, and the story below (written in the third round) won second place in my room and earned 93 quality points. The prompt was “The Unlikely _____. Fill in the blank and use the phrase in your story,” and this is the raw, unfiltered story I wrote and everything I hate about it.

The Unlikely Ending

“Congratulations! You got the Happy Ending!” the electronic voice rings from my computer, taunting me.

In a fit of rage, I stand up and throw my headset to the floor. There are a total of 12 endings to this video game, and I try so hard to play differently and get all the endings, but I end up with the same ones every. Single. Time.

“Every. Single. Time.” is actually really good at emphasizing the tediousness of this video game, but I think I would have been better off without it. It just looks odd and out of place, interrupting the flow of the sentence. It looks especially choppy because that is the closing of this paragraph.

I’ve gotten the Happy, Sad, Terrifying, Angry, Unknown, Disgusting, Surprising, Silent, Unbearable, and Likely Endings. I’m only missing the Unfinished Ending, and one more that nobody’s gotten yet.

I’m going to be the first to get it.

The storyline is simple. A kid goes to school, meets a teacher, and the way you respond to the teacher’s questions determines your ending.

I’m sorry, come again. What kind of storyline is that for a video game? That sounds so boring and flat and there is not a single hint of a plot. What happened here is, as I was writing this, all the pieces were falling into place about what the rest of the story would look like, and I began to neglect what I was writing at the moment.

“Myles! Breakfast!” My mother shouts from downstairs.”

“One sec, Mom!”

My computer screen lights up green, telling me I got the Unfinished Ending, one more left.

I walk downstairs, feeling as if I’m on cloud nine. I swallow my bagel and grab my backpack. It’s the first day of school and the nerves are starting to kick in. The short drive to school is over, and before I know it, my legs are carrying me into school.

Myles should be way more excited about achieving the Unfinished Ending, seeing as he has been trying for a while and only found ten out of twelve endings. This is so underwhelming. The “on cloud nine” detail is good, but there should be more. Something like “I stare at my computer in disbelief as the corners of my lips turn upwards,” or “I let out an astonished chuckle and jump out of my chair in a fit of joy,” or even “I get in the car, still riding out the high of finding one of the last two remaining endings,” or a combination of those.

I check my schedule to find that my first class is science. I love science. It’s honestly annoying how people think that because I play video games, I don’t care about school. I do.

Walking into the classroom, I greet the teacher, who responds with an unsettling stare. Thinking nothing of it, I sit down.

The class flies by quickly: we started with a simple icebreaker game before diving into Unit 1. As I’m leaving, the teacher, Mr. Brooks, stops me.

“Myles, your shorts are not in dress code,” he states flatly.

“No, sir. I checked the handbook, and they are fine. Maybe you should have done the same instead of wasting my time that could be spent learning.”

First of all, this conversation took at most twenty seconds, and if I am honest, I do not think that Myles would have done much learning in thirty seconds. Secondly, Myles is a good kid, works hard, cares about school, and is kind to his mother. Why is he so hostile towards Mr. Brooks? The fact that he is rude is important later, but it’s so random and unexplained. He could have left it at “I checked the handbook, and they are fine.” He did not have any reason to snap at Mr. Brooks like that.

Mr. Brooks scowls as I walk out of the classroom. I walk no more than three steps down the hall before I hear a strange chiming sound from the science room.

I said “walk” twice in two sentences back-to-back. Even something like “I make it no more than three steps” would make that sound less repetitive.

The next day, when I walk into the science classroom, Mr. Brooks asks me if I completed the homework.

There I go again with the word “walk.”

“There was homework? Sorry sir, but you didn’t tell us about it last class.” I respond, trying to sound calm and collected.

Now he is respectful and calm? This sudden personality shift makes about as much sense as his unjustifiable rudeness earlier.

“Please be more prepared, Mr. Smith,” he says, his tone just as flat as yesterday.

Another chime sounds.

Class started shortly after I found my seat.

Why did I just switch to the past tense?

We talked about pressure points in the human body, and why the body responds the way it does. I learned that a pressure point on the neck, if pressed hard enough, can knock someone out. Creepy.

As much as I would love for this class to have been about something other than pressure points (because that doesn’t make sense as a starting unit), that detail is important later so I can’t be mad at it.

What was more creepy, however, was how Mr. Brooks kept looking at me during class. And always after hostile words such as “choke,” “death,” and “unconsciousness.”

The rest of the day flies by smoothly, and I hop back on my video game as soon as I get home.

Now I’m back to the present tense.

I open my computer to find that it was overtaken by a virus. I sigh when I realize I won’t have my precious game for a while. I resort to my TV instead.

Another virus.

Why is Myles so casual about every device in his house being infected with a virus? Is he not worried that someone is stealing his information or watching him through cameras? I did not think this through enough when I was writing this, he should be way more disturbed.

Disappointed, I walk downstairs. I jump when I see a face in the window. I blink, and it’s gone. I walk to the kitchen to get some water, accepting that it was just my imagination, when a knock on the door grabs my attention.

Hesitating I open it.

“Mr. Brooks? Can I help you? I was just about to do the homewo-“

My words are cut off when my teacher lunges at me. I dodge him and run to my room. Thunderous footsteps follow me up the stairs, but I don’t stop until I reach my room and lock the door. Leaning my forehead against the door, I try to control my breathing.

Again with the repetition. “Door” and then “door” a second time just six words later.

I turn around and shriek when I realize I am face-to-face with Mr. Brooks. Only now am I realizing I may have treated him poorly.

The fact that he is just now realizing his maltreatment of his teacher proves that his change in attitude earlier was not out of regret, adding to the mystery of why he was so harsh. I don’t even know why, and I wrote this.

He pounces on me, his eyes clouded with rage. I feel his thumb on my neck as my breathing begins to run shallow.

This is why I can’t be mad at the pressure points detail. It comes full circle as a subtle piece of foreshadowing. However, there were definitely better ways to go about this that I couldn’t think of in the short time frame I had. For example, something related to cyanide or another poison would have been better because that’s more fitting for a high school science class.

The last thing I hear before losing consciousness is my computer: “You have unlocked the Unlikely Ending. Congratulations, you have finished the game.”

I really like this unsettling ending and how it ties back to the beginning. I remember being overjoyed when I put together the puzzle of what this story would look like and how everything would tie into each other. I wish I could say there were no loose ends, but that simply isn’t true. For one thing, Myles’s animosity towards his teacher, and the teacher’s flat attitude towards Myles were left unexplained. I am proud of this story, though, considering I only had 35 minutes to develop and write it, and mistakes like these were bound to happen. I know now that if I were to rewrite this story, it would improve astronomically, and that’s what matters.