A lot of things happen in fictional stories, but will never happen on planet Earth. You will not hear one of them in this story, as this is not fictional. This next chapter may seem as fictional as the Abominable Snowman, but it is definitely not.

I heard Jorgen's joyous cry, and couldn't help getting out of bed to see what he had found. I felt around in the darkness for the light switch. I found it and flicked it up. Jorgen was gaping at the closet for some reason. "W-what's the big discovery?" I muttered sleepily. Jorgen managed to utter a few words. I thought he said something like "This!" He was pointing at the back of the closet. "I-it's just a closet, Jorg." I mumbled, "Y-you put clothes in it. I'm going back to bed."

Jorgen grabbed me and pushed me into the dark closet. I put my hands out to stop myself from hitting the wall, but I felt no wood. It seemed like it was an endless tunnel of darkness.

I don't know how I managed it, but I somehow was able to take my flashlight out from my pyjama pocket and switch it on. The walls looked rough but soft, like dirt.

The air was salty, like it gets when you are near the sea. I turned my attention from the walls to what was ahead of me. There was something blue-green thrashing about not too far away.

My journey ended on a huge patch of sand. I looked down and saw that I was on the beach. I looked out at the vast pool of water. A dolphin was jumping in the distance. The wind blew gently through my hair. For the first time since I had arrived here at Camp Jamahari, I smiled.

I took a few steps toward the water. It felt as if the water was calling me to dive in. To make a long story short (by 'long' I mean about twelve pages); I did. I spent a long time swerving in between the coral. When I finally clambered out, the deep purple of the night sky was streaked with gold. Now, I thought, how do I get back?

I ended up doing something really... uh... silly. I grabbed a pair of toothpicks from my pocket and began to climb up the steep chute I had come down on. The toothpicks were used as pickaxes, like mountain climbers do.

When I reached the top, I collapsed onto a chair, exhausted from my little trip. Then, at that second, I resumed the sleep that I had been awoken from hours ago.

There are many unpleasant things in life, such as receiving a birthday present you didn't want, or tripping over a shoelace and getting a bruise. One you may not have heard of is being Subject Chooser of Camp Jamahari.

I will never forget the nervousness I felt as I approached the field that day. There was a tipped-over cardboard box in the middle of the field. I supposed it was to serve as a stage, so I climbed on top. "C'mon!" I beckoned to Jorgen. "No." Said Jorgen firmly. "Jorgen," I said calmly, "It's a box. It's made of cardboard, not bombs." Jorgen hesitated, then, reluctantly, he made his way to the middle of the field.

"I would like to play baseball," I stated. A roar of approval met my words, so I began to relax.

We were on the diamond for the whole morning, slugging, pitching, and catching. My team ended up winning 12-8, and I hit a grand slam in the bottom of the 9th. Lunch wasn't as good, though, as we had brussel sprouts drenched in a watery substance, which was supposed to be gravy. I would rather have eaten my sister's old socks.

The afternoon was a bit of a blow-up. I asked to go swimming in the sea, and the military guy flared up and yelled like an elephant getting an amputation. "NOT A LIVING SOUL WILL DIP A TOE IN THAT PUDDLE! AS FOR YOU," He jabbed a scarred finger at my chest. I wondered if that finger had felt my heart, which was probably trying to pound my ribcage to smithereens. "YOU WILL BE ON LUNCH CLEANUP FOR A WEEK!" This guy was really starting to get on my nerves. "Affirmative," I answered sarcastically.

Anyway, we did have fun in the end. We played basketball on a regulation court in the huge gymnasium beside the cafeteria.

Dinner was as bad as - if not worse than - lunch. We had rotten egg bread with fish head stew. By the time the meal was over, at least three quarters of the kids had their heads buried in paper bags, especially Jorgen.

That night was the polar opposite of the first night. I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow, and Jorgen couldn't sleep. However, in the middle of the night, I awoke to Jorgen jumping on me. "C'mon!" He exclaimed, "You'll never believe what I found!"

I write this not as a way of entertainment, but as a call for help. My name is Samuel O'Connor Salvia. From my name you can find my initials. From my initials you can create my message. S.O.S. Read my story and you will know why.

I will never forget the day I arrived at Camp Jamahari. I remember the feeling of my heart pounding against my chest as I stepped off the bus. I had never been to summer camp before, as I was only six years of age. My best friend, Jorgen van Villa, gave me a pat on the back. "Jorg," I said, "I'll be right back." I stepped into the washroom and exhaled all the eggs and bacon I had choked down this morning. I innocently left the room so no one would suspect me of committing the Exhaling of the Breakfast.

An hour later I was sitting on the grass waiting for the head councillor to finish his tedious lecture. Finally he finished and took a big cardboard box from a little shed beside the field. He put the box on the ground, and opened it with a flourish. He drew out a neon red shirt, which had the words 'Camp Jamahari, where you have fun, or else!' emblazoned on the chest. "Yo, bud!" the councillor yelled to me, "Take a shirt, y'all gonna need it."

He was right, as I was dripping with puke. I reluctantly donned the shirt, and Jorgen and I made our way to the main office to claim our cabin key. We had been given cabin #13, and Jorgen didn't like it at all.

I watched patiently as Jorgen frowned and made faces at the key. "C'mon!" I said, "It's just an unlucky number." Jorgen vigorously shook his head, as if he were trying to make it fall off. "Oh no," he said, "In my country, Velva, the number 13 means that terrible things will happen!"

"Whatever!" I exclaimed, "If any thing happens, you're safe with me." Jorgen hesitated, but followed me to the cabin.

Cabin #13 was obviously platinum, as it was made of maple logs which had been smoothed down perfectly and windows that sparkled in the evening sun. "See?" I said to Jorgen, "Not so bad, eh?" We entered the cabin, climbed into our cozy bunks, and tried to go to sleep. Jorgen conked out in less than 5 minutes, but I couldn't seem to do it. I lay there for only five minutes, but it seemed like five hours, or even five days.

I was starting to doze off, when a man dressed in a military uniform burst through the door. "Where's van Villa?" The man shouted, "He's in bed, kipping," I answered.

"Well, tell 'im that him and you 'ave been elected as Subject Choosers, so you pick what we do."

"Okay," I replied. The man left as I lay down and grinned as I entered the land of dreams.

(dedicated to: Mommy)

Once there was a litte girl named Monique Howie.

She lived with her brother Danny and her Mom and Dad.

The Howie family had a small house with a big garden. In the garden there was an oak tree that they called "The Family Tree" because everyone's photos were put on a branch of the tree, like a timeline.

One day, Monique's photos fell down and into a well beside the tree. Mr. Howie went down and got them and they lived happily ever after.

The end.

One day, as I was walking in the potato patch, I saw a potato that was very strange looking.

When I picked it, I noticed it was an egg!

I then took it home and hundreds of dinosaurs hatched from it!

The next day they all ripped up the whole house.  I had to sell them all.

I got to keep the T-Rex.

Three years later he was eating the whole town.  I called for the Canadian army.

The T-Rex ate up half the army then the army fought him and won.

The End.

(dedicated to my Daddy)

One day some families got captured by pirates.

They called for a Superhero named Super Michael.

When he got there two had drunk 8 glasses of wine! He took 15 hours to get there because he had to travel 350,000 miles.

Then the pirates tried to capture Michael! He just said "back off".  The Pirates closed in to attack.

Michael ran away then he took off taking the families with him.

They had a big party back in England. In the middle of dessert, Michael got another call then he set off.

The end.

One night I got up and I looked out my window.

The snowman I had made the other day said "come".

I ran to him. We got into an airplane and went to the South Pole.

He taught me how to talk to penguins.

We went to The North Pole. There we played together. I learned to speak polar bear, so I said "Grrrrrrrrr!" then we went back home.

The snowman never melted.

The End.

The further stories of "A Snowy Car"

One day, my friend and I were walking in the Himalayas, when we met a fairy.

"I am the Fairy Queen of the Himalayas, and of ballet," she said.

The Fairy Queen asked asked us to perform in her ballet recital.

The next morning, we practiced. Then we got on our uniforms and started on our way to the stage.

After the recital, we decided to climb the mountains. So we climbed to the top of one of the mountains.

It was very foggy, so we named it Mount Misty.

The next one we named Mount Ice Cream, and the last one we named Mount Crooked.

Then we went home.

The End.

(This story is dedicated to the O'Connor Clarke Family)

One day, a car was driving in the woods. It was a very snowy day.

My friend and I were in the car. Our car was very pretty, it had just been painted. It was brown, yellow, purple, pink, and orange. It was covered in stripes. Beautiful!

One hour later...

We saw ten brown monkeys swinging in trees. It was getting dark, so we asked the king of the monkeys if we could come in to his palace to sleep.

"We'd be delighted to," he replied.

"Thanks," said my friend. So my friend and I went inside.

Inside the palace it was very warm. The monkeys told us it was heated by a 10,000cm long fireplace. In the morning, we ate breakfast and then we went home.

The End.

(This comic is dedicated to Ruairi Michael O'Connor Clarke)