Prince Zhang, 5/14/21, PD 5, Day B

Prince Zhang

Period 5

5/14/21

PD 5

Day B

Creativity & Fiction

Craft a piece of fiction that addresses one or more of the following: 

- Literary elements (i.e. structure, tone, diction, mood, irony, and figurative language) to craft a narrative and/or poetry.

- Structural features of drama (stage directions, character attributions/tags, dialogue, monologues, and/or soliloquies) to craft a script.

- Multidimensional characters to develop themes and create socio-political metaphors.

The Missing Key

    As the bell for last period rang, Zia hastily stuffed her pencil case and calculator into her bookbag and made way toward the locker room. Walking through the hallways, Zia's mind drifted toward the last question of her calculus test. 

"Did I integrate that right? Hopefully, I remembered to add C to the end of the equation," she thought.

The locker room was only a few paces away, but Zia walked past it, trying to remember any of the other questions on the test that she was unsure of. She didn't realize she walked past the locker room and doubled back to get her coat. Her fingers turned the cold metal lock as she spun the combination 5-14-21; she opened the locker door and retrieved her coat. After putting it on, she started heading toward the exit and began her journey home.

Zia's house was only a 20 minute walk away from school, but she enjoyed taking a longer route through the woods. Walking along the familiar path, Zia's mind was at peace. Here, she was alone, in person and in thought and allowed her mind to wander as she followed the leaves being blown by the wind. She wasn't bothered by the loneliness; she never considered herself to be "lonely," but rather independent. She appreciated her own company and the occasional squirrel darting across her path or the croak of a nearby bullfrog broke the silence. But today, the trip home was quiet and neither rustle nor croak broke the silence. Looking up, Zia saw gray clouds loomed overhead and picked up the pace, hoping to get home before a potential storm arrived. As her boots left the dirt road and hit solid concrete, she started pulling out the keys of her back pocket. Once she pulled out her keys, she realized something was wrong. She was missing one: the one to her front door.

Doubling back into the forest, Zia hurriedly looked around and traced her steps. The first drops of rainfall were coming down now and she knew it would pick up in a matter of minutes. She checked all spots along the path where the keys could be hiding. She checked in between the roots of the old oak and in the nearby brush. 

"It has to be there somewhere! There's no way I really let the key fall out of my pocket," she exclaimed.

A glint of bronze caught her attention behind some reeds. She made her way toward them and squatted down to brush them away. Her bronze, triangular key lay there, out of place as it's metallic luster contrasted with the dull reeds next to it.

Clutching the key tightly in her hand, Zia sprinted out of the woods as the rain started picking up. She made it onto the porch before any of her books got soaked and she sat down for a breath of air. As she put the key into the keyhole, she noticed that all the lights of her house were on.

"There shouldn't be anyone home right now," she told herself. Perhaps her parents had left the lights on when they left for work.

Before she could turn the key, the knob shook and the door opened. She suddenly wanted the reassuring silence of the woods. 

She was not home alone.