Pen-Magic Blog

  Rehaan doshi - Pen Magic Club My Name is Abby Gem, short for Abby Gem. I am about to retell the story where my life fell out of line. It started when we took a vacation to the U.S.A, San Francisco to be exact. my dad had taken me to McDonald’s. Though most people say that nothing cheers me up unless I wake up happy, my dad knows exactly what cheers me up. A Big Mac burger, with a side of French fries and extra coke could definitely cheer me up. Once we finished the food, my dad, who’s name is Frederick Gem, said ‘ it’s time to go home Abby’. I was Kind of sad and kind of happy because I Loved being at the mall because my mom loved it there too, almost as much as the beach. While I was walking to the car, I heard gunshots. My dad cursed under his breath, and said “Abby, we have to go right now”. Now, I’m not sure what he meant cause he was a police officer so it would be his duty to help get everyone to safety. I didn’t know what else to say but okay so we jogged to the Mercedes...

  THE LEAGUE OF KINGDOMS Arnav Rayaprolu: Pen-Magic Club The streets of Salawar, the capital of Vahyaj, were full of chaotic excitement. People were hustled over at any corner, bakery, shop, or stall that were visible. The only noise that could be heard was the chatter and gossip of citizens. “Did you hear? The orb was stolen last night.” “I can’t believe it…how could it happen?” Newspaper boys ran around eagerly, knowing that today they would be able to afford those candies they longed for. The gates of the palace were crowded, and rocks were being thrown for the first time in 100 years. Nothing could be done. The orb, the holder of peace, of alliances, was stolen. “My king…12 local guards have been reported killed in action. 5 Treaty Keepers have been fatally wounded.”  “The Treaty Keepers too? This is bad. It slipped right under our noses. The question is, who would’ve done it?” The king of Vahyaj hurried to his chamber. He always began his day quickly. At The Crest, no mem...

  Butterfly Ashita Agarwal: Pen-Magic Club My dreams were still in vivid detail. I was eight that day, still just a little, naive kid. I was sitting in the school lobby, waiting for Dad to come and pick me up. When Ms Darlene, my third grade teacher, came to show me out, she was crying. She hugged me.  “I’m so sorry, dear.”  That’s all she said, before the police told me the details. My father had been murdered. His body had been found by an old lady in an old warehouse. They said he had been kidnapped.  I’d been too sad to go to the funeral. So I cried, and cried and shouted. All alone. I never got to see Dad, finally at peace, resting in his coffin. I still haven’t. It’s hard to come to terms that my father, my full-of-life, amazing father, was gone from this world when he was the only parental figure I ever had- I'd never known my mother, she'd left us before I could make a memory. My eyes had been red and puffy for months- “Mia! Mia, are you okay?!” With a start,...