• Many people say that one person can't make a difference. That is true in many things. However, there are a few instances where one person can change everything. A single action from one person can, in fact, alter the very course of history. This is a story proving that statement. It starts with an explosion.


    BOOM
    The experiment was a failure. And now it was in pieces. Little, scorched pieces. The technology just wasn't advanced enough to complete it.
    A gaunt man leaned over the table, which had a large black mark on it, showing his failure. The man cursed under his breath, and again audibly. It was the third failure.
    "Why won't you work?" he questioned the pieces of wood and metal strewn about the room. "Why?"
    Another man entered the laboratory. He stepped slowly toward the frustrated builder. "Another failure, I assume?" he said.
    "Yes, Igo. The parts just don't seem to fit. I can't do this! It's impossible!"
    The man called Igo bent over and picked up a piece of wood. It was blackened and still somewhat hot. Igo dropped the wood and stood up.
    "Impossible, eh?" he stated. "Then your services will no longer be required. As of today, you no longer work for me."
    The mechanic stuttered out a response, but Igo ignored it. He simply left the room to go find a new mechanic to replace the old one.
    Which one will this be? he wondered. I believe that it will be the thirteenth.Yes, the thirteenth mechanic. Hopefully, he will be better than his predecessors.


    Shane was running. He was late, and there was no sympathy for tardiness. He opened a door and dove through just as an alarm sounded. The door slammed shut behind him and locked automatically. An elderly woman stood over him.
    "You are late, sir," she stated. "You know the rule."
    The woman was frightening to almost anyone. Her skin was wrinkled and hung down low over her eyes, giving her an angry look all of the time. Of course, she really was angry most of the time.
    "Did you hear me?" she shrieked. "Get up!"
    Shane stood up. The witch in front of him thrust an open palm at his face. His glasses flew from his face and struck the wall. He heard a small crack.
    "Now, go!"
    Shane picked up his glasses and found a place to sit. A quick inspection confirmed that one of the lenses now had a gash almost straight down the middle. He cursed as he put on the glasses.
    He reached into his bag and found a sheet of paper. He rummaged around a while longer and found a pen. The next hour was not going to be fun. He had to write down everything that the old bat at the front of the room said throughout the class. Everything.
    The instructor spoke quickly and without pause. Shane wrote as quickly as he could, but he could never keep up. It seemed as if she didn't take a single breath for a full hour.
    Finally, she seemed satisfied with her torture and asked to see if Shane had recorded everything. She called him to the front and began reading what he had written.
    "Good enough," she declared. "You may be seated now."
    The boy returned to his seat and clutched his cramping hand. He let his mind wander away from the classroom. He no longer cared what the instructor said. The next subject was history. Basically, they were just being told how great their leader, Don Igo, was and how he came to power.
    The instructor was on another rant. It was filled with statements of "Don Igo is great." and "You should all be thankful he is our leader." Finally, a student piped up. He stated the majority opinion of the class in one word.
    "Boring!"
    Surpressed laughs could be heard as the teacher searched her students' faces for the insubbordinate.
    "Demitri!" she shouted. "Come up here this instant!"
    The boy sitting next to Shane stood. He walked casually to the front, as if the teacher had asked him to answer a simple question on the board. He wore a wide grin on his tan face.
    "Was that you?" the old woman asked.
    "Yep." was Demitri's response.
    An open palm flew at the student's face, but he caught it.
    "Don't," Demitri said. Several students gasped, some out of surprise, and some out of imagining their classmate's punishment.
    Demitri released the woman's hand and turned back to his seat. A ruler came from behind him and struck him on the head. The ruler clattered on the floor. The boy laughed and turned back around. He picked up the ruler and threw it hard.
    The old woman turned slowly to see the straight edge embedded in the blackboard less than an inch from her face.
    She skipped the history lesson and continued with the next subject.