So there I was. As the smoky fog began to dissipate, the bright sunlight rays pierced down to the green, dewy grass.  I walked toward the big, cracked, wooden door, but I felt like an elephant began pulling me back. The dilapidated-looking building pulled me in. This started my first day at Gizgo Imagination School!

The door creaked as I opened it; shocked by what I saw, my jaw dropped. The modern building contained walls coated in modern-abstract art. Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture played to signal me to classroom 15. When I arrived, each desk had a laptop and notebook placed neatly on top. Other students, ushered in by the music, dragged themselves toward their desks. I knew they became just as perplexed as me.

Suddenly, a stocky man with a swamp green vest and jeans entered through a door at the front. He calmly sat down in his chair. “Hello, students”, the man boomed.

The room stayed silent.

The man continued, “...Welcome, you will be learning the mysteries of your imagination”. All students, still fearful, listened carefully. The man told us to open our notebooks and laptops. Immediately, the other students and I followed the directions. Throughout the day, we filled out a survey about ourselves and read some very creative, and strange, stories. I really liked The Legend by Alex Militchinski.

In the morning, I entered the school again along with the blabbering ocean containing other students. When I entered the classroom, Mr. Gia sat at his desk. We started a project.

The teacher described the project without missing any small details. We will write a literature piece based on the theme: Let your imagination fly.  The ATP(I think it’s just like the PTA at my other school, just flipped) organized this assignment. The mysterious organization wanted to find ten students from the whole country for a special project. Every classroom in all 50 imagination schools started this assignment today, according to Mr. Gia. The class freaked out when he stated the deadline, in two days! Mr. Gia’s final line, “let your imagination fly” inspired everyone. I immediately began writing a story about a child letting his imagination fly. I titled it Let Your Imagination Fly. For the next two days I spent 17 hours perfecting my story. On the third day, Mr. Gia became missed in the classroom.

As the class began murmuring theories on where Mr. Gia went, a shady figure entered through the student door.

“Hello, I will be looking over your ATP assignments, so they better be done!” the man shouted, his voice staggering a bit. He paced through the room and snatched everyone’s story or poem. Then he talked no more and quickly exited the room. Finally, a short lady entered the room to tell us school needed to end since the teachers had meetings.

They selected me! As soon as I entered the school, a man lead me to a small room near the back door. He took me in, exited, and closed the door. Five minutes passed, but it seemed like five hours. The door finally creaked open and a tall woman walked in, excited. She explained why she chose me and how this might become a great honor for me and the school. Then my vision became blurry and I seemed to fall asleep.

Splash! Cold water ran over my face. I tried to see where I woke up, but everything looked blurry. Immediately, my eyelids weighed down. Then I felt nothing.

After an unknown time period, my eyes flapped open. I stood up to look around. The bland gray room made me claustrophobic. The only things in the room, a chair and a desk with a computer, made me nervous. The computer suddenly flashed on! The woman appeared on the screen. She explained this happened so I do not reveal this secret location to anybody. All nine other winners went through the same process. Next came presenting our story to judges. Only one person will win; the rest will become jailed or killed. According to the ATP, this became the only way to keep this a secret. She never mentioned anything about what the one winner will do. I slept through the day.

In the morning, I apprehensively dragged myself toward the judgement room. The room looked large, but dark. A table with three chair stood at the far end in the room. Three men with stern faces entered and sat at the chair. Each child took their turn reading through their stories. My turn came.

“...The end”, I finished my story. The judges’ faces remained expressionless. I stepped back as the next reader began the trek through his story.

The judges finally finished their decision. I felt scared to death. I began sweated. Tears ran down my cheeks.

“And the winner is Bob…” I crashed onto the floor when I knew lost. Going to jail or dying became the only thing on my mind. Three figures came to help me up, but I pushed them back. I rose and and sprinted toward the door. A man immediately chased after me.

I zoomed through the hallways; it a seemingly empty, but infinite building. The pursuit continued. After what seemed like hours, I slipped on a banana peel;  I’m not clumsy, it just somehow appeared there. It doesn't make sense. Nothing ever makes sense.

The man stopped next to me, huffing from exhaustion. He grabbed my shirt collar.

“Wake up...Please wake up!” A woman’s voiced directed.

I opened my eyes. My mom stood next to my bed, “Wake up, you’re late for school.”

“I’m sorry, I just had a bad dream about ATP reflection and imagination scho-”

My mom cut me off, “I knew you shouldn't have stayed up till two a.m. to do your PTA reflection!”