My Unconditional Love--Samantha

 

It was June 21, 2022, the day I met the boy I thought was my world. Unfortunately, it was him who caused me to lose myself. Teenage love is complicated, especially when two individuals are grappling with their own insecurities, seeking affection, validation, or just attention. In our case, we were simply two young people attempting to share a deep connection, oblivious to the complexities and consequences of love. 

When we first met, I was a relatively happy girl with high standards and clear values. For 15 years, I adhered to these standards, driven by ambitious goals and deep values that guided me in school, relationships, and self-reflection. I held most of these values because of my mom; I never wanted to disappoint her, and I did not want to make the same mistakes she regretted. I remember promising my mom, and myself, that I'd never let a boy disrespect me, control my life, and most importantly, I would never settle for someone who did not make me happy. While I was very well adjusted during that period of my life, he, on the other hand, was a lost boy who struggled mentally and was burdened by family issues. I became his listener and gave him support that eventually transformed our late-night talks into something deeper. I played a role in saving him from the depths of despair and transformed him from a lost soul with no hope to someone who learned to love himself and me. His love at this time was comforting, a rarity in a family where affection was never expressed. I felt special and finally appreciated. 

Like any other relationship, ours had its ups and downs. We were on and off after a couple of months together. During our first breakup, he left without reason, and I fell into a depression that left me feeling lost. For those months together, I did nothing but love him with all my heart. Confused about what I did wrong, I beat myself up, only to find out he left for another girl. I ranted to my sister and best friend every day, questioning why he would hurt me. I felt used. It was as if he had leaned on my guidance to find his way in life, only to leave me lost and alone. This worsened my depression, leading to the lowest times in my life. I was leaving school early or not going, despite school formerly being my top priority. I stopped eating, as I felt sick every time I looked at food, and distanced myself from friends and family. No one knew the extent of my struggles and the thoughts I had scared me. Frequent panic attacks and a genuine hatred for waking up every day became my reality for two months. 

Then, he re-entered my life, and joy overwhelmed me. I believed his return would erase my problems, but he had transformed into someone unrecognizable—a cold and disrespectful version of the sweet boy I once knew. Despite this change, I was simply happy he was back. I unwittingly enabled him to talk down to me, cheat with other girls, use me, and deceive me with lies. Blinded by love, I lost more of myself as he manipulated and guilt-tripped me. 

Since I allowed him to mistreat me so badly, he felt no remorse in leaving me again for another girl, perpetuating the familiar cycle. I questioned my worth, wondering what I did to deserve this repeated heartache. But, like clockwork, he returned, and I, ever hopeful, took him back with open arms. This time, it seemed different. Our arguments matured, and he claimed to have changed. I was ecstatic to see him return to the boy I fell in love with. He was finally appreciating me and realizing how his actions had hurt me and was taking accountability for it. I forgave him once again, and we were happy for 10 months. However, he slowly drifted away again due to his friends’ bad influence, causing me to finally take it as a sign to reflect and call things off with him.

 I found myself mentally, emotionally, and physically drained by the toxic patterns of our love. Despite giving him numerous chances to be a better boyfriend and person, each time proved him unworthy of my forgiveness. It became clear that you cannot change someone who does not want to change, and despite the genuine laughter and love we shared, my self-respect suffered the most damage. Now, I needed the undivided attention and care that I formerly devoted to him. Over a year of constant disappointment, heartache, and betrayal taught me invaluable lessons. While I don't regret the time I spent with him or the love I gave, I recognize the importance of prioritizing my well-being. This experience convinced me to start putting myself first and refusing to tolerate anyone’s disrespect. I now know what I deserve and what I should expect in future relationships. This journey allowed me to discover more about myself—my needs, boundaries, and the importance of not letting others take advantage of me. I cannot let people walk over me so easily because, at the end of the day, all I have is myself, and I need to treasure that more.

Till We Meet Again, Baba--Alisha

Grief. A silent visitor that arrives uninvited. It comes unannounced, unbidden, and yet, with a weight that can feel almost palpable. Its arrival is marked not by a grand entrance but by the absence it creates, a void that echoes with memories, yearnings, and the ache of loss. It's like walking through a fog, where everything is blurry except the pain. But even in this fog, there's a glimmer of what was good, memories that twinkle like stars in the dark. Little did I know, I would be visited by grief. 

In my childhood home, there were six of us: my father, mother, brother, dadi (grandma), and baba (grandpa). My parents, navigating the early stages of their careers in the demanding field of healthcare, were driven by the need to meet high expectations and establish themselves. During my parents' working hours, it was my baba and dadi who looked after my brother and me. Following my baba's shifts in security, I distinctly recall the warmth of his gesture as he brought us our favorite fast food with our favorite candies. However, not long after, my grandparents made the bittersweet journey back to India in 2020. The last words I spoke to them were: "We'll come to visit soon. Take care, and know that I love you." 

We had only visited India a couple of times before they left, the last visit being in 2019. However, after that trip, my parents working in healthcare faced an overwhelming and hectic period due to the onset of COVID-19. Our initial plan was to visit every two years, but the demands of their work made it challenging to align schedules, resulting in failed plans. 

In the last year, there was a day when my father sat me down and told me that my baba was very sick. The news didn't immediately affect me. I thought, "He's incredibly strong; he'll come back from this," because my baba always took such great care of me. Some days revealed glimpses of hope, where he seemed relatively well, but other days during our FaceTime calls, his deteriorating health became starkly apparent. His physical condition declined steadily, reaching a point where even basic mobility became a challenge, leading to the necessity of spine surgery. Despite his incredible resilience and enduring fight, his body eventually succumbed to the prolonged battle. December 14, 2023. 

My father hesitated to break the news for a couple of days, as he was reluctant to disrupt my focus during finals week. However, I felt that something was off because I noticed we had been calling my baba less and less. On the last day of finals, I had a flight that night with my mother and brother to meet my family in Texas before the holidays. We arrived at our Airbnb for the trip and were greeted by our family. After playing games with my uncles and aunts, my mom told me that she had news to share and she said it was important. As I took a seat, her solemn expression made me uneasy, and I braced myself to hear what she had to share. 

“Your baba passed away.” 

My mind froze for a moment as I struggled to comprehend her words. In a matter of seconds, tears welled up, and I found myself breaking down in front of my family. My heart shattered and my world suddenly dimmed. I felt sick to my stomach. The shock was overwhelming; I hadn't anticipated hearing those words so soon, and I wasn’t ready. I would never have been ready. The remainder of the trip felt like a haze—I was physically present but emotionally distant, lost in a world of my own. Days were spent immersed in a reel of childhood memories, each moment with my baba playing on a loop in my mind. 

I spent the rest of my break in India with my father and brother. In my religion, when someone passes away, we hold a cremation ceremony with days of prayer. Before that, there's a day designated for us to bid our final farewells. We all gathered outside, waiting for my baba's body to arrive. When it finally did, I couldn't contain my emotions and broke down more. The enormity of losing him was too overwhelming to comprehend, I struggled to even catch my breath. While everyone paid their respects, I sat by his side. Whenever someone lifted the covers to see his face, I made sure it was placed back properly—it was my way of providing a sense of protection, even in that somber moment. On the day of the cremation, I accompanied my father and brother to the temple where my baba was to be. Traditionally, women in our family aren't present directly at the site; they're meant to return home upon hearing a warcry. But I couldn't bring myself to leave. I stayed behind until everyone, except my father and brother, left. I couldn’t be there for him during his illness; I needed to be there then. 

As I made my way back to the gurdwara, where prayers were being held, the women of my family greeted me with hugs, their tears mirroring my grief. They called me brave for staying, but to me, it felt like the only thing I could do to honor him. My dadi, my baba's wife, shared with me the haunting yet comforting words: in his final moments, he expressed a wish for his grandchildren to be by his side. “ਉਸ ਨੇ ਸਿ ਰਫ਼ ਤੁਹਾਡੇਲਈ ਹੀ ਪੱੁਛਿ ਆ” or “Usane siraf tuhade lai hi puchia”, translate to, “He only asked for you.” I will never forget those words. 

Grief, especially during the holidays, felt like living two lives. One life where you pretend everything is okay and are surrounded by other’s joy and festivities. The other life where your heart misses what once was. I lost my baba, and right before, I lost my uncle, two deaths in less than one month. Amidst this pain, I've realized that grief and love are intertwined—they coexist, two sides of the same coin. These recent weeks have reshaped my outlook on life. I’ve learned to treasure every moment and to cherish time with loved ones because we never know what will happen at any second. Ultimately, time takes no time to change. 

The day you died, it felt like my smile eternally dimmed. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there to hold your hand in your last moments. I will make sure to make you a part of my story in every step I take. I will have conversations with you in my dreams after looking at you through the nature and beauty of the world. 

Till we meet again, baba.

Butterflies--Janine

 

I always get so excited when I see a butterfly. I never see them often, but when I do, I feel hopeful. It seems to me that I only see butterflies on my hardest and best days. In my family, butterflies are our family members coming back to see us. I know it’s a common symbol of reincarnation, but butterflies are so special to me. I remember when my dad told me that after his father died, a butterfly landed on the chair that he always sat at during dinner. No one would sit in that chair after he died, but during one special dinner, a large butterfly flew into the house and just rested on his chair for a while. Maybe it might have just been a coincidence, but to my dad and his family it was their father coming to visit and let them know he is okay. 

Growing up, I was very close with both of my grandmothers. During 2020, they both died within months of each other and everyday I would pray to see a butterfly. Whenever I was outside, I would always remember to look around once in a while, hoping to see something flying by. It took awhile to see a butterfly after their deaths, but the first time that I did, I remember tearing up. It was the only thing that I prayed to see and I felt so happy knowing that they were still around. I carried many regrets and always questioned if I should’ve made the effort to talk to them more, but seeing that first butterfly allowed me to forgive myself for what I didn’t do. Since that day, I occasionally see butterflies while I drive or even just before I leave to go somewhere. If it is just a coincidence that I see them on my best and worst days, I still hold onto that piece of hope that it is one of them looking after me. Butterflies are a symbol of life and I grasp onto that idea as much as I can.

Even if some may not believe that these butterflies are my loved ones, it’s still nice that I feel optimistic about my life every now and then. I always try to incorporate butterflies into my everyday life. Whether it is making a project and somehow adding a picture of a butterfly or picking up the items in the store that have butterflies on them. I found beauty in my grief and I grew hopeful for my future even if I knew my grandmothers wouldn’t be physically there to see me grow up. I love being excited about the little things in life. I love feeling like my grandmothers are somehow still taking care of me. I love seeing butterflies and feeling like just for a second they are with me. For the brief moment I see them before they fly away, it almost feels like everything is just okay. I admire my growth and I truly believe that my loved ones see that from above.

Happiness--Roze

 

The word happiness is one of those words that have more than one meaning. Happiness

can be a person, a place, or a thing. What is happiness? An enduring state of mind consisting not

only of feelings of joy, contentment, and other positive emotions, but also of a sense that one's

life is meaningful and valued. We are happy when we do what we love, as well as when we are

surrounded by the people that bring us safety and joy. Surrounding ourselves with what brings us

delight is a crucial part of humanity. Without that content state of mind, your brain will start

shrinking over time. The shrinkage ultimately reduces your brain volume and it loses any

motivation to do our daily tasks. On the contrary, having joy increases your brain activity and

dopamine levels in the brain. When the dopamine levels are released into the brain, it has

positive effects on our memory as well as our brain's ability to learn. The chemicals increase the

brain's capacity to increase memory and reduce anxiety/depression. It is a proven fact, after a

study, those who are happy with themselves have higher test scores and are able to focus on tasks

much better than those who are unhappy.

I was laying in bed on a day I had made plans with some friends and did not feel like

getting up to go. The idea of just staying home and doing nothing all day sounded more

appealing to me than having to get ready and go out. Staying in bed makes me lose all my

motivation in doing my daily tasks. I find when I just sit at home, I tend to do nothing. When I

actually get up and get in the right mindset, “get stuff done” I find that I am able to do so much

more, like clean my room and do my homework. I recently discovered the fact that my grades

have been improving as I get in the right state of mind and do my schoolwork at a designated

spot that is not my bed. Studying in bed brings the lazy thoughts into my head because my brain

is used to that spot as being a calming spot. Having an open mindset is crucial to being happy. I

wake up in the morning dreading going to school and not wanting to do it. That lifestyle became

sad because there was nothing I would look forward to and instead of making the days count, I

was only counting the days. Day by day, I started changing my habits, and rather than waking up

with nothing to look forward to, I started making things to look forward to. Having the thoughts

as to where “ today is going to be a good day” alone can really increase your brain activity into

taking advantage of the day rather than just simply making it go by. I started getting up in the

morning and making plans for myself in order to make my day productive. Having that happy

positive mindset helps me find joy in daily tasks like cleaning my room and the calm feeling that

comes with it when it's all done. Running errands is now something to look forward to as I make

something out of it rather than treat it as unmoving and dull. Having a happy mindset changed

my lifestyle for the better in ways that only I was able to make. It always starts with you.

Happiness & Health: The Biological Factors- Systematic ...

National Institutes of Health (.gov)

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov › articles › PMC4449495

https://www.britannica.com/topic/happiness

Feminism--Jordan

 

Over a century ago, women were fighting for other women because they were working toward the

same goals as each other, equal rights. Today, women are fighting with other women because we all have

different aspirations in life. There has become an extremely distorted view of feminism in present day and so

many women don’t believe themselves to be feminists because of this distortion. There are a multitude of

people in society who believe that women need to be independent leaders and fearless fighters to embody the

role of a strong, successful woman. I love that women are able to demonstrate these characteristics and receive

praise for them, but it is also extremely important to note that women don’t need to fit this criteria in order to

be a strong, successful woman. Disney princesses and stay-at-home moms face unwarranted backlash in the

media because they don’t fit the mold or appear to have the same dreams as female soldiers and powerful

business women. Even from conversations I’ve had as a student counselor, there are girls who feel like they

aren’t doing enough with their lives because what they want for themselves isn’t to become a CEO but to just

start a family.

Feminism is not only about women becoming leaders and trying to be the most powerful in the room.

Feminism is about uplifiting women no matter their path in life. Feminism is about equality to men, not power

over them. According to a recent survey consisting of almost 4,000 women, 39% of women in the United

States do not consider themselves to be feminists. Many women believe that feminism is a bad thing to want

and believe in. They believe that being a feminist means that we want more than men, when all we want is the

same. Especially in the United States, women have laws regarding their body, making us feel like we are less

than. In a way, in this country, we are. That is what feminism is trying to fight. We do not want men controlling

our bodies, or our pay, or our field of work. We do not want to be criticized for not wanting to take on the

world or become president. We want to be accepted in a field dominated by men. We want to get paid the same

for doing just the same as a man. We want to feel safe and loved no matter what journey we decide to take with

our lives.

Over a century ago, women fought for our right to vote. Through their fight, they were actively giving

future women voices and the power to do so much more. To this day, women are still trying to fight against the

system. Fighting to keep laws off of our bodies, fighting to be treated as an equal, fighting for our own dreams

and desires, and fighting to just be women. That is what feminism is. Feminism is about loving women, caring

about women’s rights, and accepting women for who they are.

The Naturals--Morgan

 

The Naturals by Jennifer Lynn Barnes, (published by Hachette Books in November 2013) is a detective fiction targeted towards the young adult audience. The novel follows Cassie Hobbes, a seventeen year-old profiler, who has been recruited by the FBI to solve cold cases. She joins the Naturals program, along with three other teenagers who also have unique and valuable talents, such as detecting lies, reading emotions, and being a statistical genius. As Cassie connects with her fellow Naturals and attempts to find her place among them, the memories and people of her past begin to haunt her. The further she gets into the program, the more she realizes that their current case of serial murders is more personal than they could have ever imagined. Cassie’s skills, motivations, and relationships are tested as she dances with a serial killer who is hell-bent on wreaking death and destruction at any cost. 

Though The Naturals is told entirely from the first person point of view, Barnes implements a disturbing twist as the reader is allowed a glimpse into the mind of the serial killer. No more than a few pages long, the killer’s perspective is shown in the eyes of a profiler, using the personal pronoun “you” instead of the more commonly used “I” or “they.” This second person point of view is representative of how Cassie is learning to profile her suspects, a tool utilized to build suspense and keep readers guessing. As a profiler, Cassie delves into the dreadful and twisted minds of criminals, trying to understand and predict their behavior by tapping into the darkest parts of herself. The layer of detail Barnes implements into these sequences gives the novel a sinister tone that is fundamental to its themes and how they impact the characters. 

“Blood does not define family and family does not define who you are” is the central theme of The Naturals. The five recruits have all been subject to varied scarring situations at the hands of or as a result of their families at some point in their early life. Most are slow to trust, keeping each other at arms length to fend off the horrors that come with caring for someone. Underneath it all, they fear facing the potential reality that they are destined to become who and what they claim to hate. Moments of self-isolation are a result of this angst, contributing to characters realizing that they are not alone and have each other to guide them through the darkness. Themes of isolation are also present throughout the story due to the group’s varying skill sets that no outsider can begin to understand. The FBI did not only recruit the teens to capitalize on these unique skill sets, but to also replicate them in the ordinary agent. Being a Natural means that you are regarded more as an experiment rather than a kid. The alienation of being extraordinary has followed Cassie and her friends their whole lives, and now is a plague in the one place they are supposed to belong. This allows for deeper bonds to be built between the group like, for instance, the connection Barnes establishes between Cassie and Dean, a fellow profiler, exploring how they are able to understand one another at a deeper level than anyone else ever could. Their minds, hard-wired to pick up on minute, personal details that an ordinary profiler would not be able to determine, become one as they intuitively detect definitive answers that they cannot explain. For once, Cassie feels that she has found someone that recognizes her for who she is and knows firsthand of the detrimental effects the gift of extreme observation has. The constant scrutiny and similar life experiences leads the teens to find solace, albeit reluctantly, in each other. Though dysfunctional at times, the teenage Naturals and their unwavering loyalty to their own demonstrates the value of teamwork and finding those who you can consider family. 

The believability of the characters only comes into question on account of the unconventional upbringings of the Naturals and the absurdity that human beings could be capable of what these teens specialize in. The level of genius each of them have in their speciality is breathtaking as they face life-threatening stakes and go against the odds of what is conventionally considered to be humanly possible. Cassie and Dean unconsciously pick apart a killer’s psyche and Michael, Sloane, and Lia see parts of the mind that would otherwise be hidden to the ordinary person. Barnes was meticulous when creating her story, carefully and purposefully weaving the plot into her characters. As Barnes slowly fleshes out her characters through Cassie’s watchful eyes, readers are exposed to the depth of their motivations and thoughts and are influenced by the heartbreaking stories covered with humor that is relatable, to a degree, and the clear empathy Cassie holds for her friends. By the end, one can understand why the characters say and act the way they do as it has been artistically splayed and spaced out within the pages. 

The Naturals is a web of character driven action that will have readers on the edge of their seats as puzzles and patterns get deeper, darker, and stakes rise. This heart-pounding mystery is a fun, yet mature read, as the darker plot undertones can be disturbing. In terms of literary value, The Naturals urges readers to pay close attention to a detail-reliant storyline and realize that things are not always as they seem. Reader interest is sure to be grabbed as Barnes balances extraordinary and relatability expertly in an ominous world of FBI investigative work and never knowing who the true enemy is.

Happiness--Nicholas

 

Healing--Yasmeen

Healing. Something that most, if not all of us are doing right now. Whether it be from an injury, a broken heart, trauma, or even from seeing first-semester grades. Healing is Defined in the Marriam Webseter Dictonary as ¨to make well again: to restore to health¨ and ¨ to restore to original purity or integrity¨. While these are true, in some ways, I think that there is much more to it. Healing is not about restoration, it is about transformation. There is no way to ever be fully who you were before a situation because we are changing every day. Healing is a time of growth, meaning you are not ever going to be the same person that you ever were. You become a different version of yourself. With that said, My definition is, A journey of transformation, an ongoing process where one embraces one's struggles and learns to leave it in the past in an effort to be a better version of themselves. 

This definition of healing recognizes that time and healing have a connection. Healing is not something that just happens overnight but a gradual evolution. Healing acknowledges what has happened in the past, and that you don´t have to hide what caused you that pain. Healing becomes connected with change, it requires patience, acceptance, and understanding that its not a linear process. That is why it is a journey, three will be some good and bad days. No journey is ever perfect, and that is why understanding that this just takes your effort is important. A person often has to choose to heal. Whether that would be because it is too painful or living in the same situation becomes comforting. That effort is what strings along your journey, so it is important to recognize that aspect. A quote that stood out to me was, ¨The wound is the place where the light enters you.¨. This insight poses the idea that healing is not about completely erasing the past but more so illuminating and acknowledging it. The thing that has troubled you becomes something that channels wisdom and resilience, which is why you will never be the same because this struggle has brought so much change and learning with it. I’d like to think of healing almost like an art. When a mosaic is being made little pieces of glass or stone are broken into a million pieces but in the end, it makes something beautiful, Those little pieces are still involved but they have transformed into a work of art. 

To conclude, the concept of healing, when viewed through my eyes, is a journey of transformation, vulnerability, and effort, and it takes time. It is an ongoing process where a person undergoes a big or little change, led by the experiences that the journey of healing prompted. With that I would like to leave you with a quote by Maya Angelou that says, ¨We delight in the beauty of the butterfly but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty¨. This is a reminder to acknowledge how far you have come and how you have persevered.

My True Calling--Eric

 

Upon entering highschool I was certain that I wanted to pursue the medical field.

However it was out of fear rather than genuine passion.

My entire life leading up to this point I felt the immense pressure to make something of

myself. Once my parents divorced, nothing ever went my mother’s way. Time and time again

obstacles kept coming. It was almost as if someone was watching and rooting for her downfall.

When she finally took it upon herself to get a higher education and graduate, she was rejected

from every job opportunity. It was alcohol on an open wound. It was like evil was laughing at her

telling her she could never be successful. I felt like the dreams of her escaping financial struggle

became delusions. Heartbroken, I wanted to avoid this. I felt like the only option was the

high-demand medical field where a job would always be ensured.

However, time would tell that different interests would suit me.

Beginning on the first day of my Sophomore year, I entered room A1 confidently. I looked

up at the board and found my assigned seat. I attentively listened to my teacher and was quick

to make assumptions on the course. He explained how an A in this class would be considered

an 87.5%. “How easy” I thought.

It wasn’t easy. At least for me.

That year was the first time I had ever struggled in school. Despite my best efforts, I was

on ice skates slowly slipping behind everyone in my class. Everyday was just me glaring at a

white board that seemingly had writing in a foreign language. For the first time I felt like I was

no longer smart, and my self-esteem became increasingly low.

So, as I stared at my report card fixating on “C” for Honors Chemistry, I began to

question my career path. I knew that Chemistry was essential to the medical field, yet I was

more pathetic than a pig trying to fly. If I was already in frustration now, how would I ever

navigate college as a pre-med major with professors who more than likely could care less about

my success.

From then on I knew this was not me. This is not what I was good at. This is not what I

loved. This was the fake dream I had created for myself. The dream I gaslit myself constantly

into wanting. The dream that would impress people when I spoke about it. The dream that

would make my parents proud. It was a dream I could never be happy with.

This dream was rooted in the financial situations my mother and I endured. I was the

hope for my family. That this chain of financial burden would be broken with me. That my

grandparents immigrating to America with their last dollars would not have been for nothing.

But, I wouldn’t let them down I thought. I did my research. I realized that all of the world’s

richest men and women work for themselves without Uncle Sam collecting their money like the

rest of us. If there is something I love more than anything it is my autonomy. Doing things out of

my free will. I could never imagine being tied down to a job for the rest of my life. Working hours

a day for years until I am 65 and too tired to live my life. Even worse being a doctor. I posed so

many questions to myself. Do I really want to sacrifice my youth for worries about studies? Do I

want to trade off my precious time for a paycheck? Do I want to accumulate student debt as

costly as a house? Do I want to worry about being called into work when I am relaxing at

home? The answer is no to all of these. While I do appreciate medical professionals who do

this, I know in my heart that this wasn’t what I was meant for. You really have to love what you

do, because is money really worth being miserable? While working, many people will put money

into retirement so that eventually they could live their lives happily and vacation. But why wait?

What if I get in a car accident and die before then? Living in the moment is more important than

we think, I thought to myself. The sooner I learn the ropes of our economy and become a

financial expert, the sooner I can make decisions that could set me up with passive income. The

more passive income, the more freedom I can have for myself.

Although this single high school course contributed to a lot of discomfort and stress

during my sophomore year, it was the wake up call that I needed. We all are blessed with

different gifts and all have different desires. While I may not be good at Chemistry, I naturally

excel in mathematics and have a burning interest to learn more about finance and investments.

In my opinion nothing is more bound for success than an innate ability coupled with hard work

and intense determination.

The Eye of Minds--Billie

 

The Eye of Minds by James Dashner, published by Delacorte Press, takes readers into an

immersive science fiction story set in a dystopian future characterized by advanced

virtual reality technology. As the first work in the Morality Doctrine series, this novel

deftly navigates the complex intersection between morality, technology, and the grave

consequences of decisions in the vast, surreal virtual world known as VirtNet .Dashner

introduces the reader to Michael. The main character who is the key to the dangerous

search on VirtNet. Accompanied by loyal companions Bryson and Sarah, the trio embark

on a dynamic journey to uncover secrets and overcome challenges posed by virtual

environments. The story gains momentum through the central conflict surrounding Kaine,

a rogue player manipulating VirtNet for dark purposes. As Michael and his friends

embark on a mission to stop Kane, the story unfolds at a relentless pace, weaving

together themes of morality, identity, and the ethical implications of advanced

technology.Dashner's descriptive skills not only immerse readers in VirtNet, but also blur

the line between the real and digital realms. The author paints a vivid picture of the

virtual landscape, allowing the reader to imagine the future setting with amazing clarity.

The characters, including Michael, Bryson, and Sarah, are carefully crafted, each

contributing to the story's emotional depth and resonance. Michael's changes over the

course of the story not only serve the plot, but also engage the reader on a personal and

empathetic level, making him a likable and engaging protagonist. The development of the

plot is full of fascinating journeys. A series of unexpected developments keep the tension

constant and captivate the reader from the first page to the climax. Dashner seamlessly

blends elements of action, suspense, and philosophy, inviting readers to ponder the moral

challenges presented in the novel. The exploration of morality, power relations, and the

overarching impact of technological advancement elevates the story beyond traditional

science fiction and transforms it into a thought-provoking exploration of the human

experience in the digital age.“The Eye of Minds” pushes the boundaries of the typical

sci-fi adventure. This is a thorough investigation of the human condition in the context of

evolving technology. Thought-provoking questions reverberate throughout the story,

including the nature of reality, the ethical considerations of immersive technology, and

the responsibility that comes with exercising power within a virtual landscape. Dashner's

storytelling techniques, combined with rich description and compelling dialogue, allow

readers to become active participants in VirtNet's complex world, rather than mere

spectators. In summary, The Eye of Minds is his science fiction work that deserves praise.

It has a good combination of literary quality and reader interest. Dashner's ability to

balance entertainment and philosophical inquiry makes this novel an outstanding

contribution to the genre, and a compelling and intellectually stimulating journey for

anyone wishing to delve deeper into morality in an age of advanced technology. We

provide. With this first work, the Moral Doctrine series established itself as a

thought-provoking and sympathetic addition to the literary world.