When my brother’s son was born, the doctors told him that his son had been born with a dependence on crack. Immediately my brother was scared, as he didn’t understand what that meant for his newborn. The doctors informed him that the baby had been exposed to crack in the womb and that his system was not ready to handle being without the drug. The doctors then explained that the baby would need to undergo a process to detox from the crack and would need to be given small doses of medications to help the baby ease off of the drug over a period of time. My brother was relieved to know that his son would be monitored carefully and would undergo an appropriate treatment plan to safely get him off of the crack for good.

Charters schools are publicly funded schools, like traditional public schools, but they have more flexibility to experiment with different teaching methods and curricula. They also have more autonomy from state and district regulations. Charter schools receive public funding and are held to the same standards as traditional public schools, but they are often exempt from certain laws and regulations, giving them more freedom to design their own curriculum and implement it. Charter schools also typically have more leeway to hire and retain teachers, as well as to act as their own school boards. Traditional public schools, on the other hand, are bound by local and state laws, as well as rules and guidelines set by the district board.

Once upon a time I was a famous detective,
I thought I was the greatest of all that had ever been detected.
But soon I realized a problem,
That every situation I solved was wildly contrived.

The clues I found were all too convenient,
The solutions to each case felt too obvious and evident.
I thought, why is this the way it is?
When I figured it out I could no longer resist.

The answer that I had finally found,
Was that I was a character in a book renown.
My life had been written out for me,
And the story was never meant to be free.

My every move was predetermined and planned
For the pleasure of a reader's hand.
My life was just a work of fiction,
No matter how hard I tried, I could not change my condition.

Though I was disappointed and feeling blue,
I still continued to see things through.
As the fictional detective I had always been,
I finished each case without fail and was done.

As a teacher by day, a superhero by night,
Your mission was to tutor a student after school,
The secret you must keep out of sight.

The lessons were a success, your pupil was quite adept,
Time to say goodbye, you bid them adieu,
But when you looked outside, your heart skipped a beat.

The enemy you had been fighting for years,
The villain you thought you had outrun,
Was standing right there by the car, sending chills up your spine with no fear.

You knew it was time to do battle,
But how would you protect your charge?
You must think fast, for the clock was ticking, no time to dawdle nor enlarge.

Your mind raced through the options,
But in the end, you knew what you must do,
You quickly formed a plan, and put it into motion, with your student none the wiser, true.

You escorted them to the car, acting as if all was as it should be,
Your nemesis had no idea what was about to happen, of that you were sure, you could see.

You walked away, a plan in place,
Ready to face the fight of your life,
Your student's safety was your number one priority, no matter the cost and the strife.

The battle was fierce and it lasted for hours,
You emerged victorious in the end,
Your student safe and sound, and your nemesis defeated, the story to tell a friend.

The sun was setting, the day near done,
Your superhero identity was safe and sound,
You had not only saved the day, but your student, who was now safe and sound.

You jump out of your seat in shock, your headphones slipping off your head. Your heart is pounding as you watch the demon hovering in mid-air, its eyes burning red as it stares right at you. You try to back away but you're rooted to the spot. You open your mouth to say something but all that comes out is a stutter.
The demon frowns. "Why did you call me in the tongue of old? You must have known the consequences of such a deed."
You shake your head, still in shock. You had no idea what you had done. You try to explain that you were just singing along to a song in a language you didn't understand, but the demon doesn't seem to believe you.
Suddenly, a voice speaks from behind you. "I summoned you here," it says. You turn to see an old man standing in the corner of your room. He looks familiar, although you can't quite place where you know him from.
"This is my grandson," he continues, "and I asked him to call upon you in the old language because I knew it would be the only way to get you to grant my wish. I know it was wrong of me, but I was desperate."
The old man explains that he is dying and wants to see his family one last time. He can't leave his home, so he needs the demon's help to bring his family to him.
The demon listens to the old man's story and agrees to help him. He tells you to bid farewell to the old man, and then disappears in a puff of smoke.
You stand there in shock, wondering what just happened. You had accidentally summoned a demon, and he had granted an old man's wish. You shake your head in disbelief and take a few moments to let it all sink in. You then take a deep breath and put your headphones back on.
You smile to yourself as a new song in a language you don't understand comes on. You laugh as you mumble along and think about the strange events that just occurred.