"Wounded" by Kimberly T.

I remembered the day that changed my life today, but why today? I kept hearing voices in my head, voices from 9 years ago; but why am I hearing them today? I kept wondering those things as I was sitting cross legged on my bed, hugging a pillow, staring out of the window, and listening to my iPod which was on full blast to try to drain out all of my emotions….

I remember the day so well, it was the 5^th of July; it was a gorgeous morning. I remember my father knocking on my bedroom door as I was in the corner of my room at my little writing desk, I was drawing Disney characters the best I could considering I was a 7 year old. My father tried to sneak up behind me but he stepped on the creaky floorboard so I knew instantly that he was there, and I quickly turned around. He was surprised that I knew he was there, he told me that I must have some sort of super power but I laughed and told him no, that I didn’t, that I am just an ordinary girl. He corrected me and told me I was extraordinary, not just ordinary. I remember the smile I had on my face, I was smiling so much that my cheeks hurt, and my father told me that my face was as red as a tomato as he placed a kiss on my forehead. And that was the last time I saw him.

The phone rang later that day but my mom was out in the back tending her rose garden, and she has a rule that if she was out tending her flowers that I should not disturb her. So I ran over to the telephone, stood on my tiptoes, grabbed the phone, and pressed the button the top right corner, underneath the screen. I held the phone up to my ear, “Hello? Who is this?” The lady on the other side responded, “Hi there sweetie, may I speak to your mom?” I was confused, why would this person want to speak to my mom? “She’s out back taking care of her flowers and she told me to not bug her when she’s doing that.” There was a moment of silence on the other side of the line then she suddenly took a breath and answered, “Well can you tell her that this is an emergency?” And without another word, I went to the back and handed my mother the phone.

The rest of the day was like a hurricane; it left destruction that I’d have to clean up for the remainder of my life. And it left a scar that still hasn’t healed, and that was the day my father died, the day that changed my life forever. And  6 years later I’m still trying to patch up my wound.

"Inevitable Change" by Shayan K.

 

                  Music, glamour, spicy food, sweets, European liquor, loud relatives and hundreds of rituals filled the wedding reception of my eldest sister. She was the first child in our family of 6. It was at her wedding reception that I realized, what Indian girls, not every single one but ones from deep family roots like myself are destined to be. Soon my dearest sister was married and sent away to start a new life with a man she did not know. Arranged marriages are quite common in Indian culture.  It never occurred to me that it was now my turn.

                  I woke up the next morning, made a cup of hot tea, rushed to grab the newspaper, and opened up page 7 which read the daily horoscopes. My morning started just as usual until I walked past the family room. My dad was on a long distance call talking to an old friend he grew up with in India, but now has settled in America. My Dad was inquiring about his son’s future plans such as marriage and career. His son was now 23 years old and in the process of starting his own business. Without being forced I was convinced to start a new life with a complete stranger thousands of miles away from my home in India. My close friends were shocked to hear that I was engaged to get married at 16. I explained to them my sister also married at age 16 and that I would be okay. After much persuasion, my friends agreed that I would be just fine in America. America to them was a land of opportunity and a place where women are treated fairly with respect.

                  My wedding reception was just as glamourous as my eldest sister’s. What made it even more special was that my husband was born and raised in America and had no clue about all the rituals involved in an Indian wedding reception. Very soon, I was on an airplane on my way to land in John F. Kennedy airport in New York. Everyone in America made me feel at home, but I always felt as if I’ve left a big part of myself behind. My in-laws treated me with much respect and helped me get adjusted to the American culture. They toured me all around New York and took me to see some great monuments such as the Empire State Building. However, my biggest challenge was not adjusting with the American culture, but was to build a relationship with a complete stranger.

                  Just prior to my departure, I had a long emotional conversation with my parents and grandparents. I expressed to them my fear settling down in a country that I was not familiar with and being in a married relationship with a complete stranger. My parents taught me just one value and advised me to follow and live the rest of my life using that same value. They asked me to always respect others and that in turn others would naturally respect me back. I not only remembered my parent’s advice but also practiced and preached it in my daily life.

                  Gradually, my husband respected me and our respect of each other turned into love. Love without respect holds little to no value. My love for my husband is forever eternal.

                 

                 

"Your Decision" by Jesse J.

 

            There was a boy by the name of Joseph. Before we begin, lets get to know his dad. His dad was a star baseball player in college. Every professional baseball team wanted him to play for them. He was a stud. On draft day he was drafted first round to the Dodgers. On opening day he was so excited to play for his favorite team ever! Before the game even started he was warming up and then there was a terrible accident. He tore a ligament in his shoulder and in his elbow. He was never able to play again. This all happened because he didn’t stretch before the game. Now when his son was born he knew that he would be a baseball player. He had all the right tools and knowledge to make his son the best. From one month old in the crib he would stretch his legs and arms. Once he was able to walk (about 1 year old) he taught him how to throw and catch a baseball. By the time he could start to play competitively he was the best in not only California, but the world. Now when he was in kindergarten his life was school then baseball. He had done so much working out that he already had a cut body. He was already being scouted at the age of five. After school he would want to go play with his friends. This didn’t sit well with his father at all. The answer was no! After years of hating his dad, for not  letting him experience hanging out with friends and the world. He was a freshmen in high school and made varsity his first year. One day going home from school he had enough. He refused to practice or workout. Then they got into a huge argument and ended with Joseph saying that playing baseball is your dream and not mine. I can be whatever I want to be, it’s my decision. His life would change from that moment on. He never talked to his dad since. After that day he never would pick up a baseball again and resented his dad. He finally experienced the world first hand and hung out with friends after school. He eventually graduated and got a scholarship to USC for his grades and got a PhD in Anesthesiology. In the end, he realized that all his dad wanted was the best for him. But he had every right to be what he wanted.

" Tragic Love" by Katrina D.

*news reporter: breaking news, there has been an accident on the CA 60 west involving a motorcyclist and a white escalade 

Ana rushes into Kaiser Permanente in search of her husband. "He's in room 102 in OR, ma'am, you may take a seat in the waiting room" says the receptionist. "Thank you" replies Ana. She waits patiently, listening to the clocktick, tock, tick, tock. The door opens and Doctor Reyes walks out, looking around the room he spots Ana immediately. Ana stands quickly asking Doctor Reyes if her husband, James, is okay. Docotor Reyes assures Ana that James is physically okay, although he is currently in a coma. As a lump forms in Ana's throat, stopping herself from crying, she nods her head and asks to see James. Doctor Reyes escorts Ana to James's room and Ana sits, speaking softly to her husband. She comes to realization that he probably cannot hear her, so she decides to write him letters instead.

Dear James,
It's been a month that you've been in a coma. Our little princess was born just a week ago on May 28, 2013, I wish you were there to see it. She has your eyes and your nose, I hope you wake soon so you can see your precious Sadie.

Many letters later 

Dear James,
It's Sadie's first Christmas, and you have yet to woken from your coma. The doctors asked to take you off of life support, but I didn't allow it. I have such high hopes, I know you're going to awaken, I just know it. I pray to God you'll be able to take care of, give love to, and meet little Sadie.

Dear James,
Happy Valentines day! Your room is filled with wonderful smelling flowers, colorful cards, and big balloons. Sadie's attempted her first words, it's close to "dada". She's quite the intelligent little girl. You'll fall in love with her once you awaken. Until then, I love you. Xoxo.

Dear James, It's May 28, 2014. Sadie's first birthday is today! She has been staying with grandma and grandpa lately since I've been working long shifts. I'm headed over there in just a few minutes to celebrate with the birthday girl. I wish you were here to celebrate with us.

Morning of May 29

"Hello James, it's nice of you to finally join us" says Doctor Reyes. James looks around and touches his skin, the bed sheets, and sees all of the dead flowers, colorful cards, and deflated balloons in his hospital room. He's awake and out of his coma and he cannot believe it. "I feel as if I've been buried in my own body. I yell and yell, asking for help, and I felt so hopeless" says James. "
Doctor Reyes, where's Ana?"
Doctor Reyes hesitates to answer. "James, I'm sad to say that Ana has been in a severe accident. A drunk driver slammed right into her, onto the driver's side. She's in very critical condi"

*beep* *intercom: code blue* *Dr. Reyes rushes into Room 203; James following*

"Ana!!" James runs towards her bed side, tears running down his face, but the nurses gently push him aside in order to try to revive Ana, but it's too late.
"Call it, Mary" says Doctor Reyes.
Mary, the RN looks to James and quietly says "13:28".

James is discharged from the hospital a week after Ana's death, and although he has lost his beloved, he has now met his princess Sadie and lives out the rest of his life treating his princess as his queen.

"Salem" by Ebohni S.

April 2, 2014 My hobbies include photographing kittens, composing jazz pieces on my Casio keyboard, and studying the many works of Steven Spielburg...

I don't even know what I'm talking about...

Man, I know it doesn't seem difficult to write down your own thoughts, but I'm having a hard time. Dr. TC told me I needed someone to talk to in my last session, so I decided to start this stupid journal. I can't concentrate on a specific topic to write about, but that's probably due to my ADD. I think I'm wasting my damn time. Writing in this journal like a thirteen year old girl in vibrant pink ink with my Hello Kitty pen seems insanely ridiculous. But who doesn't have ADD? By the way, my name is Wolf.

April 3, 2013
 Come to think of it, there's one particular topic that I'm always thinking about. It occupies my mind every hour of the day. The grey matter contained in my uncomfortably large cranium craves thoughts about one thing in particular as opposed to the millions of other things that brush my mind throughout the day.

All I ever think about is her.

She moved in two blocks away from me last week and I'm undeniably in love with her. I don't know her name, but I've studied her relentlessly. The way she glides across her lawn to open her mailbox is a verification that she is indeed a reincarnation of Aphrodite herself; walking the Earth among us common men. I've never asked her name, but when we walk home from school; I walk behind her to make sure she makes it in safely.

May 10, 2013
 I asked her name today.
Salem.
She's the most gorgeous woman I've ever laid my eyes upon. My inamorata, my lover, my girl... at least that's what I think. Salem. Infatuation strikes me deeply with every lustful glare she directs my way. Her forest green eyes inviting me into her intriguing world full of privacy... at least that's what I think. Salem. An enigma, devoid of empathy and satiated with sympathy. She greeted me with her middle finger today, as an indication to me how much she understands the abundance of feelings I've developed for her...at least that's what I think.

May 12, 2013

We spoke today. I've previously discovered that she's currently in a relationship. We strolled down the street together while she cried to me about how her boyfriend, Sam, cheated on her with Agatha. What an imbecile! I comforted her while attempting to refute my dark desires of hurting this ignoramus for inflicting so much pain on my beloved Salem.
 I stopped her in the middle of the street, wiped her tears, and remarked, "I love you."
She replied, "Me too."
My heart skipped a beat as I tried to process the fact that my true love, loved me in return.

May 15, 2013 .
..at least that's what I thought. Come to find out, she got back with Sam.

"Mac n’ Cheese" by Olivia A

Darn, darn, darn…. Another bowl and more for me, well why not, yes PLEEEASE.

The more the calories, the more happiness it’ll bring me. That’s what I tell myself regularly.

(You’re probably thinking “GIRL, GO TO 1800-GET SLIM” but, hey its mac and cheese)

Sitting here again with what has become my best friend and thinking what I could’ve done differently.

Looking at the delicious bowl in front of me.

Hoping it’ll be a distraction from thinking about you and I.

Now, really you must think what the hell is the mac and cheese for and I tell you it is what I most adore.

But not because it’s so gratifying and satisfying.

 But, because it’s one of the only things that can stop me from thinking the same thing over and over. And over.

Really, this whole thing about are you still into me,

 Or am I just being, a bit…silly?

Yeah its stupid but at least I have my mac and cheese?

*grabs for the 5^th bowl of the night*

Maybe I’m delusional or maybe it’s the cheese.

This whole thing of trying to get over you and attempting to not think about you every time I’m near you, oh my, it has been hard for me.

Will I ever admit it in your face?

No, I’d rather barf in front of the Queen, then let you see this side of me.

Will I ever have the courage to tell you that beneath all this pride and the “I don’t care” mask, shines a cloak of invisibility saying I care, I care, I care. But you don’t even seem to know that because I’m full of this whole “bye I’m better on my own” theory?

*tries to dance to Single Ladies in the background*

Yeah, how about no.

Will I ever say maybe I should’ve done more, and you could have been with me?

HM. NAH BRO.

Now in this endless expression of mushy things, months have passed by quickly

And I dare say I am still here with my bowl.

So I say bring on the cheese, for I do not say what I want to say due to fear but, maybe you’re better without me.

Although I would subconsciously prefer it was you, whom I would be sharing this darn, darn, darn bowl of macaroni and cheese.

* looks at her next box of mac n’ cheese for the night *

“Good Morning” By Kaleha S

6:00am (Obnoxiously) Beep beep beep beep SMACK!

6:10am Beep beep beep SMACK!

6:20am Beep SMACK!

6:30am Beep SMACK!

            There is nothing more extremely exasperating than the sound of an alarm when you don’t want to wake up. The noise is literally torturous to the ear. Well, at least to my ear it is. It is simply that sound of a continuous annoying “beep” that makes my morning dreadful.

            Every day, Monday –Friday I fight my alarm clock with a violent SMACK to shut it up! I don’t turn it off of course because if I do, I won’t wake up. My alarm clock and I have a love hate relationship. I love it only because it wakes me up for school, and I hate it because it wakes me up for school! I lie in my warm bed, wrapped in my covers, with my hands and feet curled up all cozy.

            As soon as my alarm goes off, that wonderful feeling is taken away from me. I must reach my hands from underneath the pleasantly warm covers and feel the death like cold that waits in the air. I quickly SMACK my alarm to make it quiet for another ten minutes, I do this two more times, until the clock reads 6:30am.

            At 6:30am I unwillingly open my eyes, and lie under my covers, while staring at the celling. I think to myself, “Why didn’t I go to sleep earlier the night before?” Finally, I wisp the covers off of me, and feel the awful cold air wrap itself around my body, causing me to go into a slight shock and shiver.  I place my once warm feet onto the carpet and walk towards the light to turn it on. OH HOW I DREAD that walk to the light! I flick on the light and squint my eyes out of sensitivity to its beaming rays.

            My dad knocks on the door, before he can say anything I yell, “I’m up!” with a slight attitude in my voice. Still cold and half asleep, I rush to turn on the heater. After that I walk to my bathroom, the cold tiles on my feet is very unpleasant and causes me to groan with an attitude.

            I wait to hear the annoying but pleasantly toned “Good Morning”, from my eight year old little brother. I roll my eyes and mumble it back “good morning”. 

            I begin to do my normal morning routine, brush my teeth, watch my face, do my hair, and then put on my clothes. It isn’t until after I’m done getting ready that I start to slightly ease out of my bad morning attitude. I head into the kitchen and make myself some breakfast, sometimes a bowl of cereal, sometimes a bowl of oatmeal, or sometimes nothing, depending on how crunched I am for time.

            Finally, when I arrive at school and see my friends and they greet me with “Good morning”, and “You look nice today”. I then realize that it is a “Good Morning”, and that I’ll most likely have a good day.

Until the next morning when I repeat the distressing process of waking up again!!!!   

"Everything Was Different" by Madison P.

There were faces that had been beaten, hands that had undergone much work on the family farm, and children sitting on dirty streets; all staring straight at us. Everything was different.

I didn’t know exactly what to expect or what I had even gotten myself into. All I knew was that I was with my mom and sister and a team of people all with the same pit of nervousness in our stomach, but with the same goal. To build six playgrounds for kids to enjoy in six different areas, to let them know they are loved and worthy, and to bring hope. Filling the first two days we stepped foot on those grassy yet polluted hills, was worry and disbelief that the things set out before us were quite impossible.

Our home for the next eight days would be on the left side of a rocky dirt path with a turquoise rod-iron gate that had to be manually opened and closed. The house, more so called a “compound” in their country, contained a kitchen with one small table in the center and no chairs, three bedrooms with bunk beds in them, some beds cushioned only by a piece of wood and others a thin mattress that a pea could be felt through. These were my conditions for the next eight days, although they were few I was expectant for the greatness I would still experience during my stay.

The early morning was filled with tired eyes, but hungry stomachs and a kitchen filled with shy but smiling woman eager to make us a meal that we would enjoy. After the meal was consumed we set out in an old school bus, driven by a man with the largest heart, that we got to know as the week went on, to a lot the size of a 12x12 room. It was filled with jumbled playground pieces. We started rummaging through the pieces gathering the metals rods and swings to transport them to the six different areas of work to bring kids utter happiness.

The days went on, and though it got easier, the trust that things were going to be possible diminished. My team of fifteen people stood on rocky, uneven ground and this was where we were supposed to build hope for kids when we ourselves lacked all of it. We picked up shovels to even out the ground, yet stopped soon after the reality hit that this was going to take longer to even out the ground then we would have in this country. We dropped to our knees and did the only thing we knew we could in this moment, prayed. Prayed that the only person who could do the impossible would do it. Just as the words “Amen” left our lips, a bulldozer came down a hill and told us, “Go back to your compound for some lunch and when you come back this will be done”. That moment was not a coincidence in any way but a raw miracle.

After the foundation was established the playgrounds began sprouting up like new bulbs planted in rich soil. Kids stood staring in amazement and their eyes filled with joy that they were going to be able to play on this structure. The last day there, my team stood on solid ground of a brand new playground ready to dedicate it to this little community that would get to experience laughs and good memories on it for years to come. Tears filled the eyes of everyone as the ribbon was cut and glasses clanged together at the hope that was built.

Back home in the states the conditions of how I lived in my own home became a blessing, I had continual water supply that I didn’t have to pump from a well. I had a thick mattress to sleep on and air conditioner for 107 degree weather. The miracles I had witnessed in eight days continued to surpass my wildest imaginations and I thanked God for the opportunity to spend eight days in a Porta Prince, Haiti. My way of thinking was different, my way of living, my way of hoping, trusting, and believing. Everything was different.

"Growing Up" by Alexis H.

            Growing up this fast wasn’t something I chose, but something we are all forced to do. Every passing day we get closer to entering the “real world” the more fear builds up inside me that I’m not going to make it on my own. I sit alone at my desk every night, my homework laid out all over the table, scattered in every direction, with a blank stare as I look at the plain white papers of my work. Seated at the desk, my emotions running high, the tears roll down my cheeks and smear my makeup over my face as I realize, I know nothing. I turn my face towards the wall, hoping my parents and brothers don’t witness my sorrow.  Every night I lose my sanity, trying to focus on what needs to be done and it never works the way I plan. I sit in my desk chair and twiddle my hair and stare at the blank screen and wonder….How am I ever going to make something out of myself in this competitive world we live in.

I look at myself in the mirror and realize, I am no longer the cheerful and bubbly girl I once knew. The dark, purple circles that are accumulating underneath my eyes. My skin, once soft and clear is now a harsh bumpy wasteland of acne and pimples from stress. The increasing amount of headaches I get every night lying awake at two in the morning, hoping the best for my future. I spend every morning before school, piling on makeup, trying to cover up the evidence of my lack of sleep the night before, due to my tremendous amount of homework and studies. What fears me the most is the fact that I try my absolute hardest, and yet, I still don’t feel good enough. I look around and see and hear people talking and showing off their acceptance letters from their dream colleges while I’m still walking empty handed.

Being a teenager is definitely not easy. The amount of stress that I have every day is almost unbearable. I push myself to the limit and yet, I still fear for what’s to come. I’m not the smartest girl you’ll ever meet. I’m actually the opposite which makes everything that much more difficult for me. Even sitting here writing this for you all to read right now, I have no idea what I’m saying. I have all these emotions trapped inside of me that are screaming to come out but I don’t want them known, being that everyone will see me for the weak and broken person I truly am. So when my mother comes home and asks me “How was your day honey?”, I respond with “Great mom!” as I flash her my pearly white teeth.

"Innocence is a Virtue" by Leah H.

*sigh* You know that subject that I never want to talk about, well I'm ready. I know from previous sessions, i may seem perfect, but behind closed doors...*sighs* I'm not who you may perceive me to be; I have story...*sighs*

Growing up I lived a good life, carried myself like a lady at all times, made good grades, always listened to my teachers, and even stayed in extracurricular activities. Although I was a very shy kid, I always did above and beyond. In my household, family has always been valued. Me and my siblings were always told, "Family comes first and you can always trust and confined in them" No matter what, I always believed that when it came down to family; I knew fershure those were the people that I could trust. *pause* When I was fifteen years old, that changed. Every other weekend I would go to my aunt and uncles house to spend time with them. One Saturday night my aunt was on call so she had to go to work, leaving my uncle and I at home...*pause*. I started getting sleepy so I went upstairs to the guest bedroom and went to bed. As I turned over in the bed I heard the floor squeaking in the room and a male voice, before I could turn the light on, he grabbed my arm and slammed me back on the bed. That's when I knew that was the night I would never forget. I kept thinking "WHY is this happening to me?" "Did I bring this upon myself?" "Where's my uncle?"...*long pause* that's when it started *pause* At that moment, I blacked out and the next thing that I remember was him standing over me laughing. Inside i kept screaming STOP but nothing ever came out..
When the man spoke, I instantly knew who it was..the man who was always there for me...took me to my dance recitals , brought me clothes and even taught me how to swim. That man was my uncle. I thought I could trust my family! Why would someone that I was so close to want to take my innocence away from me..I guess my mom was wrong, if you cant trust family then I cant trust anybody. You know what I cant take this anymore *grabs purse and storms off*

"The Thought of You" by Vymian S.

            It is currently July and it has been 2 years already but as I board the plane I take out my camera and look through the only photos I have of you. All these thoughts and memories came rushing in from the time I met you to the time you left. Five hundred days we spent together I know it wasn't the best at all times but I would never regret a second that I've spent with you. Now you're in paradise, you lived your life to the fullest and spent every moment like it was your last. Everyday will be different without you here physically but mentally I know in my heart that you're here watching me through every step I take.

Every night I would cry myself to sleep because I regret not going, I didn't know that it would be the last time I would be able to see you. Knowing you was the best thing that had ever happened to me. You were my rock and the reason I looked forward to another day. What will I remember most about you? Of course it would be that smile of yours that could brighten up anyone's day.

Nothing will ever be the same without you here to push me to accomplish things and live life without any worries but I will live in the present not the future and not the past. God's bound to call everyone up with him one at a time...everyone has their time and it sucks knowing that all your loved ones are going to be gone one day, but one day you'll be up there with everyone. I went to the point of questioning why God takes everyone away. I haven't found my answer yet but as long as I know that I'll be with you again that's all that really matters.

 As long as I get to see that smile of yours again, I'll live my life with no worries and spend every day like it's my last so that when I am with you, you won't feel like I spent my whole life doing nothing, regretting every chance I should've taken…instead I'll tell you all the things I accomplished knowing that you were still by my side. It truly hurts not having your loved ones here with you on earth, but don't forget that they're in a better place. With God.

 It hurts to accept that you're really gone still but it’s the right thing to do. I just really wish that I didn't have to lose you this way. It is now 7am and as the plane has reached its final destination I got in my car and drove as I got to the cemetery I lay at the same spot you were buried and stayed there for hours and hours talking to you. It has been awhile but the thought of you will always brighten up my day. I love you forever and always.

"Olaf, After Frozen" by Josie S.

Hi, my name is Olaf, and I like warm hugs. I didn’t always like warm hugs though. After Elsa and Anna restored the kingdom of Arendelle and all the snow disappeared I felt alone. I always wondered what it would be like when summer came but once it did, all I could think about is when winter would come again. Elsa tried her best, and it’s not her fault, it was actually very sweet of her to make a snow cloud to follow me everywhere I go. I just don’t feel at home. Now, of course Elsa and Anna are so nice, and I would never want to bring them down, so I hid my sadness. They were always so nice to me, and they expected me to be happy all of the time. So I put on a smile and hugged everyone. Half of the time I’d say I like warm hugs to reassure myself more than others. There was no other option then to pretend to be happy, I didn’t want to disappoint anyone. It was silly to be so upset over something as little as the weather. Sven and Kristoff were the first to notice my depression. Sven walked in on me trying to walk into the fireplace. I thought the only way I would feel peace was by melting. Sven told me not to and called for Kristoff. 

Together they convinced me not to commit snoicide (snowman suicide.) Elsa and Anna were pleasingly understanding to the feelings I had and the circumstances I was in. They helped me through my dark stage and brought me back to light. We all went to therapy together and decided it would be best for me to live in a place with snow everywhere. So, we all went on a journey to a tall mountain and Elsa cast a spell on it so it would snow all year. After spending time with me up the mountains, everyone started getting cold and went home. Elsa, being the smart queen that she is, decided that I would be alone if they all left me up in this mountain alone so she made a snow-woman for me! Snowy is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Currently, snowy and I live in a cabin made of ice on top of the tallest mountain closest to Arendelle. We are happily married and are expecting some snow-babies in a couple of months. Snowy has helped me to realize why I like warm hugs again.

"The Powerful House" by Clarissa R.

     I lived in this beautiful house it had powers of protecting us from the evil or from the bad people. Like this one time I was sitting on the couch in the living room I heard people outside and they had rocks I think they were  trying to come in the house and kidnap me or steal my things well this power that I was talking about it threw them to the street and ever since then no one has ever came to bother me. Except those kids that walk by trying to see if my house actually has powers. We always have had this strange neighbor that always stares at us creepy-like and his name was Bobby. He was a single man with no job and got all his money from inheritance of his parents death. Bobby was very creepy he always says, “I’ll be coming soon,” I never knew what he had meant by that.

On the night of February 5, 2031 he came over because he had insisted of a dinner party with the three of us (Bobby, my husband, and I). Well he came over and we had dinner and then we talked for like 2 hours. Then my husband and I went to the kitchen and when we came back to the living room Bobby was gone. So we thought maybe he went home and went to rest. Well we were wrong!!! In the middle of the night while we were sleeping we were woken up by some loud noise. My husband grabbed a gun, we had hidden in our bedroom, and fast we went through the hallways. We were hit by surprise and we were knocked out. My husband and I were tied up to chairs in our basement. I was surprised that our house didn’t use its power then I realized that maybe Bobby was the one who was controlling the powers of our house. I remembered that I had put my phone in my bra and realized that it was still in my bra. I called the cops and when they came it was already to late. Bobby was gone and was never found.

"The Small Black Box" by Chiquitita A.

     I was walking around the neighborhood when I passed by a new antique store. Intrigued by it, I walked in and a tall man greeted me. As I walked around a small black box caught my eye. I picked up the box and was surprised by its heavy weight. I tried to open the box but it wouldn’t budge. 

   “Don’t bother trying to open it, I’ve tried too.” Said the tall man in a heavy Geordie accent. 

   “Why not?” I asked. “You can have it for free.” 

    I tried to ask him more question but he walked away and ignored me. Rude, I thought. I placed the box in my bag and left the store. When I got home, I positioned the box on my desk and stared at it. Why did he give it to me for free? I decided not to worry about it and went to sleep. The next morning, I went on with my daily routine and found myself staring at the box again. I picked it up and examined it. As I did so, I noticed a glowing red dot on the box. That’s weird, I thought as I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. I placed the box back in its place and went on with my day. Days passed, I haven’t picked up the box ever since I discovered the glowing red dot. I feel uneasy, as if someone was watching me. It became hard for me to sleep. Now, my nights are filled with tossing and turning. I had a conspiracy that the box was actually the cause of my sleepless nights but that’s just me talking crazy. Should I throw the box away? I thought to myself. More days passed and I became paranoid. 

     I threw the box away but nothing changed. I feel like I’m being watched every second of the day. I stopped going out, I only stayed in my room. I’m going crazy, I said to myself. I laid down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. Suddenly, the lights went off and I heard the front door open, a voice said “Where are you, pet?” I recognized that voice, it was the tall man from the antique store. I panicked and tried to open my window so I can escape. The window wouldn’t open. I heard him walking down the hallway. Tears rolled down my face and my heart started to beat faster. I heard him laugh as he walked to me. 

   “Where do you think you’re going?” he said as he pushed me down. “You see that box right there?” I shook my head yes. “Did you know that it was a camera?” He said as he stooped down over me. “Surprised, aren’t you?” I tried to scream for help but nothing came out. “Sweet dreams.” He said with a daunting laugh. That’s when everything went black.

“Me” by Christopher M.

                  I remember my first day of fourth grade, getting up and getting ready I was so excited that I couldn’t wait to start a new school and make new friends. It was so hot and humid that day but I didn’t care I knew that I just wanted to fit in and make a friend. But days, weeks, and months went by and I was still eating lunch alone and walking alone. Until finally one day a group of boys came up to me and told me to sit with them I felt so overjoyed that I could possibly make friends today. The next day as I walked up to my “friends” they started to call me names like: Fag, Freak, Loser, and Waste of space. Day after day I would hear these words and after a while I began to believe that I was these words. I would look in the mirror and see these words painted across my face and body. I would look in the mirror and see these ugly black words becoming a part of my body to the point that I no longer saw my own reflection. It became like a virus that consumed my life no matter how hard I would try to wash away these “stains” on my body they never came off. After years of this silent torture I finally began to see the words change: fag turned to proud, loser turned to strong, waste of space changed to purpose, and freak turned to just tall. After I came to the realization that I was not those words that I was better than those black, judgmental words. After I saw the words change and slowly slip of my body I finally saw something that I hadn’t for a long time, I saw “Me.”   

"It Gets Better." by Melany M.

December  12 2008

It’s my first diary entry as a freshman in high school and I am going to tell you all about how I feel today, diary. I look around and all I see are my friends getting good grades on their tests and quizzes while I fail them. Why can’t I be smart too? All I can do is draw. Diary, please grant me the ability to be smart.

December 16 2009

Today, a popular girl named Audrey got nominated for Prom Queen and that is all she talked about for weeks. Sometimes, I wish I had what she had for people to like her so much. She’s pretty, popular, smart, and all the boys talk about her. Everybody always pays attention to her and tells her how perfect she is. I wish I had what she had. I wish I was popular in high school. It seems nice. I love fashion, but maybe I should find love for something else..?

April 14 2010

I went on my first date today. I don’t think it’s going to work out because he thinks Prada and Gucci are the only high end fashion brands out there. Uhm, no. By the way, popular girl Audrey got voted for most beautiful in the senior section in the yearbook. Yes I am still jealous of her a little bit. I still look up to her. She does not get good grades though. I wonder why. She seemed perfect to me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be successful. I feel worthless.

May 13 2010

I’m sorry to tell you this diary but I’ve been self harming. My mom died and I don’t feel as if I have anything to live for anymore. My boyfriend also broke up with me. I feel like I am losing in life. It’s never going to get better. The heartbreak is so painful, it’s hard to breathe.

December 19 2011

Wow, I’m starting my first year at Parsons, because I realized I really love fashion, here I go!

August 9th, 2020

Today, I host my very first fashion show in New York City. I’m so excited for everyone to see my clothing line. I have worked so hard.

October 20th, 2026

Today, one of my maids was cleaning the mansion when she found this old diary. You know, today was interesting. I had a chat with Audrey today as she got my french fries ready at Burger King. I guess being popular in high school really wasn't all that. If I could go back and tell my teenage self anything, it would be that it’s much cooler to be cool later in life than cool in high school.

November 9th, 2026

I got married today to the love of my life.

December 8th 2028

This is my last diary entry, as I am too busy to keep filling this out now, because I have a beautiful but fashionable baby girl. Life gets better. Just make sure you are there to see it.

"Eleutheromaniac" by Fernando M.

    We decided that coffee would be ideal for catching up, as it was something for which, in our youth, we had a common affinity. I remember vague details of him: we were childhood friends, his name was the same as mine, we were born within the same year, and we were in the same graduating class in secondary school. I cut communication with him because I decided that I would be a new person entirely, and had legally changed my name before accepting a manager position at a new internet startup company in New York City. After pulling up to the place of meeting, I advanced into the small coffeehouse to find him already seated.

     Greetings, handshakes, and small talk ensued of the most mundane topics. As he extended his arm for the handle of his mug, it was difficult to conceal my disgust for what looked like a poorly constructed tattoo on his wrist, resting atop an ugly scar on his green, rootlike vein. Taking note of the direction of my gaze, my friend looked up at me and said, “‘I am’ is what it says. It’s small, but it took about a month to complete. It’s an excerpt from a favorite novel of mine about a young debutante that spent most of the course of the story in therapy after trying to off herself, and on the very last page she found her reason to live. I first read it when we were still friends in secondary.” I must have not been a decent friend because I don’t remember seeing him reading The Bell Jar, let alone anything at all. He continued in generous detail about the August night that he tried to end his miserable existence.

     After understanding what he was insinuating, I arrived at the idea that I was looking into the face of a loon. I decided that I heard enough and had started to get up to leave, but my old friend read my expression and reassured me that there was of nothing to worry.

     “That’s great,” I slumped back down, refraining from eye rolling, half out of irritation at the inappropriate nature of the story, half out of a nervous habit as if I was being personally threatened. I rested my chin on my fist.

     “Do you remember me telling you that I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life? I ended up choosing a career as an artist.”

      I could tell by the look of his tattered garb that he wasn’t making much. “I’m sure that you’re doing quite wonderful. But listen, I have to go. I have an appointment in a half hour.” I left the little establishment and felt around my coat for the key fob that would disarm the car alarm. As I drove, instead of focusing on the damp tarmac that chafed the rubber of my tires, I eyed the occasional dandelion sprouting between the cracks in the weather-torn road. I was desperately trying to recall the bits of our conversation that I was too distracted to pick up before. There was this word he had used to describe himself that I never really heard of. Eleutheromaniac? I think he defined it as being a zealot for freedom. I’m certain that was what it was.

"Brevity" by Mykhail L.

      I’m 17 years old now, and I’ve spent most of my life being short. I mean I wasn’t that short in elementary, but as time passed my friends grew taller than me. Some of them grew substantially. It was extremely frustrating. It wasn’t a big help with girls either. As a pubescent teen, my hormones got the best of me. I wanted a girlfriend like most people.I used to think I’d be a munchkin trying to get Dorothy’s attention. I would receive attention, but it wasn’t the right kind of attention. People called me, “cute and adorable.” they even told me, “I just wanna put you in my pocket.” I felt like a puppy. I felt like that’s how people knew me. I wanted that to change.

     Like every teenager, I did have my heartbroken a few times. I’ve had that feeling where your heart sinks into your stomach. The feeling where your whole mood just crashes and you feel like doing nothing. That feeling you get when your body just stops doing anything while you lie down and just think about why you’re not loved. I always assumed it was because of my height. Those girls that I thought I “loved,” were all taller than me, so I just assumed my height was the reason for everything that went wrong.

     Now that I reflect on those memories, I appreciate all the hardships I went through. It made me learn to stop caring about unimportant situations like relationships. Most of all, I learned to accept myself. I didn’t worry about my height any more, and I was much better off thinking that way. I like to think of being short like being a movie or a book. We’ve all seen those movies or read those books where it starts off great, but eventually it just drags on and we want nothing to do it. It’s like watching Gone With the Wind or reading War and Peace. They’re incredibly long and boring (to most teenagers of course.) As of right now, life is great now that I’ve accepted this height. I get to feel more humble. I get to look up to people literally and figuratively, and I learned how to appreciate things better. Don’t get me wrong being short does have its downsides (pun intended), but doesn’t everything?

"Water" by Eva B.

     The wind howled splattering rain on the drowning houses. Lightning struck with a flash of light, and the roar of the thunder soon followed. An old newspaper flew through the air twisting and turning every whichway imaginable as the streets turned into rivers.

     A single car drove down the flooded street suddenly coming to a halt. Two were inside. One said, “The engine just stopped.” At the finish of his words a thin drop of water trickled from the door, then two and three until it became a steady stream squeezing through the crack. As small puddles appeared on the floor one of the two began to scream,”I don’t want to die here, don’t let me die here.” In response the other yelled, “Shut up you!” But she continued sobbing out, “I don’t want die in this old car, I don’t want to die here!” Grabbing the handle of the door she pushed trying to free herself, and a sudden gush of water flung the door open. The girl undid her seatbelt and jumped out into the roaring waters leaving him behind.

     The girl tried to swim to safety, but the current was too strong. She started screaming, “Help! Help me! Help!” but her words were unheard from the bustle of the waves. As she floated down the roads she came to an intersection and quickly grabbed hold of the first tangible object that glided against her fingers: a street light. She started crying. It was all over for her. She knew it would not be long until she couldn’t hold on anymore. Her heart began to race as her grip slowly weakened and her fingers slipped from the post.

      As the heavy moving water tossed her about memories flashed through her head: the day her dad died, the day the town closed, when she met him who promised to take her back to find it. Her lungs burned, she pushed to the surface finding herself in an old waterway. Looking ahead she saw a ladder on the side. Using her last bit of energy, she pushed for the ladder and pulled herself out of the water. Free from the flood she laid on the ground and fell asleep. When she awoke the sun had came out of the clouds. She walked to the town searching for her house. Coming to the familiar frame she tried the door; it was unlocked. She opened the door finding him there. “Why didn’t you come back for me?” he said. “I thought you were dead back in the car.” He seemed calm, “Fine, let’s get it.” They walked through the old house until they found it against a wall in an empty room. It was an old chest. They opened the lid and it was all there, the things left behind: her doll and her mothers dress the things her family had lost when the poison dripped into the water source and all had to leave.

"Memories" by Sean M.

This is an autobiographical account.

The night of the Homecoming game, my friends and I decided to venture on a hike after the game. We called these hikes "night hikes" (I know, sounds basic, but what else are we supposed to call it). As we were readying to depart, I remembered that I had a flashlight in my back seat, so I ran back to get it. As I shut the door, I noticed that my pockets were a little lighter than when I had come back. The time it took the door to shut seemed like the longest 2 seconds of my life. Yet, as long as those two seconds seemed, I could not react fast enough to hurry up and stop the door from closing. And there sat my keys on the seat, inside my locked car.

All my friends laughed at me as I was forced to get a ride home from them. I didn't laugh; I was too salty to laugh.

As we reached my house, I remembered that I had been responsible enough to lock all doors and shut all the windows. And my house key was also locked within my car. We went around and looked for any unlocked windows. Luckily, I had accidentally left one unlocked. There was one problem however, I hand no way of getting to it. Then, the brilliant idea occurred to me: why don't we just stack the trash cans that are on the side of my house, then I'll be able to climb up.

After we stacked them, I began the ascent, and about halfway up I noticed that the makeshift ladder was not as sturdy as I previously thought. It began to wiggle and that's when my friend asked if I would like to get down. I replied slowly and stupidly, "Yeahhh," for fear that if I spoke too fast I might lose what little balance I had. Just as I was shifting my weight down, the trash cans gave and I fell. One ended up hitting me on the head, but that was the least of my worries. Mind you, that it was around twelve at night when the booming crash happened; I don't know why my neighbors didn't call the cops, suspecting we were burglars.

Anyways, I wizened up and went next door to ask my neighbor for his ladder. He graciously gave me an eight-foot ladder, but it was about twelve feet to the window. So I used my "redneck ingenuity" and stacked the ladder on the trash can because it gave me the unaccounted for extra feet. I ascended one more time, slipped off the screen, and cautiously crawled through the window victoriously.

There are a couple things I learned from this experience. First of all, don't be stupid and lock your keys in your car. Secondly, it is memories like these that will last forever, and one day you'll be able to look back on when you're forty and laugh. So my advice is to go out and do stupid things with your friends while you still can (just make sure it's legal, I've been down that road and it's not fun) because next year when you're all at different colleges you guys won't be able to do all the things you can do now.

"Stay foolish" - Steve Jobs

"The Inevitable" by Gian V.

 "We're losing him!"
The hunkering junk car swings a hard left and the tires give the loudest banshee scream they've ever heard before.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" The two silhouettes clamor and hold together what seems to be a man that's falling apart, passing in and out of consciousness.

"Today of all days, and this happens!" Tears and hysteria floods the heart to one of the figures of the dark. The other remains silent, still in shock to see such a mess but able to physically function better.

"Is he breathing still? Check his pulse damn it! We're getting closer but there lays obstacles we will have to manuever through. I'll have to do some things to I thought I'd never have to do for even the slightest chance to save him. Hang on!"

The clattering car runs through a grassy field past a towering fence. The fall of the fence continues to ring in their ears. Families move out of the way, but their toys and barbecue grills become casualties. Considering the situation, the driver would've felt like a superhuman out of an action movie had this person in the car not been dying. The adrenaline rushing through the driver's body could easily generate a steady power plant for a week.

"He's not breathing and there's blood everywhere. I think he's choking. We gotta clear his airways."

One attempts. But the man that's falling apart isn't responding. He finally flinches a little and wheeze very heavily. His owl eyes widen and he howls to the wolves of his presence. That situation seems to diffuse a little, but another problem arises.

"I'm falling apart," he violently coughs. "I don't know if I'm going to make it. But if I don't, just know that it's okay."

They wondered at amazement to how he was able to speak considering he stopped breathing moments ago. All of a sudden, he's now conscious and trying to speak before what may be the inevitable. No one knew how to respond or if they should make calm him, but they continued to listen because this might be it.

 "Don't put me in tubes and machines if I can't get out of this being who I once was. I don't want to baptized by the doctors to come out a pathetic patient kept to a leash of Medicine to mark time on the wall rather than live. I'd already be dead by then. I've lived a good life. Most don't have a say before the curtains close, but I'm lucky that I do. I know what's waiting for me when I go, but you should all know that this is all inevitable. How we go just depends. I'm dying again today, as I just died earlier. But I'm not staying here."

The car hits a curb and the trunk swings wide open. Hard work and time fly out in the end. A blizzard of papers and a clock leave a trail on the road.

"Don't panic! Just hold on, we are nearly there."

 "Yes. I am. But none of you are. Live your lives to the fullest. Leave no regrets and bring happiness to others. Love truly, learn the truth, and honestly travel the world. My journey is at its end today. But yours have barely begun. Before you go, pass these simple and yet ignored sentiments I bestow upon you. Revise them if you want, so long as knowledge born through experience is shared to the next generation. You take care of each other. Don't forget what is most important when you do menial tasks."

They pull up to the building, nearly flipping the car over.

"Help! Help! He's dying. We need help!"

Three blues and a white come over with a gurney seconds after and rush to them. They begin to place him on the rolling flatbed coffin.

"I love you all and forgive anything that you may have done against me. Don't let guilt eat you when I die. Remember to live. If there's one wish I have, it's for you all to live."

He holds his trembling hand out as he said the last sentence. They take him away leaving the three others with each other and thoughts.

Everyday he saw everything he did as a task. Do this. Do that. But he changed his ways and took the challenge to explore and carry on adventures where he learned so much and built relationships that lasted his lifetime. He did good for others, even at times when they didn't deserve it. But he did it anyway and taught them the valuable lesson of generosity. He left behind a trail for us to observe, but to really honor his wishes is to make our own paths and see what we find because we are all unique. Remember to live when you find yourself drowning. Go live.

"TedMAN Gaiden" by Tedman N.

            The year of 2012, a summer that I would never forget; reality hit me, a real rollercoaster. However, before I get to the explanation of that, let me give you background. I had visited family up north in California for the summer since I was raised there, and I thought, “As usual it will be a fun and relaxing time.” Since my parents mostly visited family, I had a lot of free time to myself and my cousin would drop me off at places I’d like to go while he did his own thing.

            Since my parents were always out traveling around to see relatives while we stayed in the north, my aunts had to take care of me. My aunts always loved to go clubbing, since they were self-claimed to be in “the prime of their lives,” even though they are in their 30s and still single (I still love them though). Pretty much everyone in my family was doing their own thing, and so I decided to go to hang out with one of the most beautiful girls I had ever laid my eyes upon. I had met her through a community service event a year back. From her marigold tone, to her golden hair, to that sparkly tint in her eyes that just always seemed to suck you right in. Her name was Annabell and on that day we were catching up with each other since I don’t see her often due to distance. However, we kept in contact through social media, texting, and etc., pretty much my best friend at this point in time.

            I know the saying of falling in love with your best friend is never a good thing but unfortunately this occurred. It was a little different from the normal convention though, the feelings were mutual and I was really excited that things were going positively for once in my life. (Man I was only 15 when I experienced this puppy love, why do I sound like a simp before simping even existed?)

            It was a really great time spending my vacation with her. One day, we watched a movie and got some food, typical teenager hangout kind of things. Full of smiles, laughter abound, and for some strange reason as time was passing by, I was feeling butterflies fluttering in my stomach. (You ever get that warm fuzzy feeling when you can relate to someone so much it’s kind of weird?) Anyways it was getting very late and my cousin (one of the best wingmen ever) was going to pick me up soon. I figured I’d get things straightened out before I left (you are probably thinking, “Wow get it together man!!!” Right?).

            So as the clock ticked down towards my departure, Annabell decided to say something before I left. She asked me if I wanted to hang out again soon and I could have sworn I saw some blush on those rosy cheeks of hers. I pretty much screamed on the inside something along the lines of, “DEFINITELY! I WOULD LOVE TO!” But you know, knowing my cool persona I tried to reply with a “Sure, what time?” I never thought my idea of the cool persona in me would turn out as “Sss-ure wha-tttt t-i-m-eee, Bell (her nickname)?” I felt like a dying chimpanzee but she giggled and said “Can’t wait!” Then she gave me a kiss on the cheek, which I did not expect so my soul essentially transcended to heaven.

            So soon after my cousin took me home and that night I thought, “Man this is going to be great, I hope my summer of youth never ends, THE BURNING PASSION OF YOUTH!!!” The next few weeks would be us hanging out at least 60% of the time. Everything was going great and I was thinking of maybe asking her to make it official; until that day occurred. School was coming near and I had to go back home to Southern California, but despite the distance I had a feeling it would still work out if we were together.

            On that day the final hangout as I remember it as, is when everything struck me. I had everything planned out to ask her out and make it official. However, something was different with Bell today; she didn’t have her playful charisma going on (I thought to myself, “Oh man is something wrong?). She went up to me and straight up said, “Teddy thank you for everything, but I’m afraid we can’t hang out anymore. You see, I know this sounds wrong, but my ex has recently started talking to me again and I just can’t seem to let my feelings for him go away. And I don’t want to hurt you anymore, I know how things were between us, and I’m sorry but I can’t talk to you anymore.” There was more said but by now my heart had just dropped. I was thinking to myself, “Man this cuts deeps,” and I kind of was just shocked that we couldn’t even be friends. All because she felt indecisive, but it was clear to me that her ex was the one she truly loved. She gave me one last pity hug and a kiss on the cheek. The kiss on cheek felt like an eternal damnation in hell rather than heaven at this point. I guess you would assume at this point, “Wow that’s got to hurt!” or, “Eh it’s okay man, there’s more fish in the sea.” Whatever the assumption is, things were really never the same again after.

            My summer ended soon after this event and oh, the dreaded junior year had come. My grade point average took a dip; I wasn’t doing anyone good with the negativity I was spreading around that year. Even the activities I loved, such as tennis, were declining; my skills were getting weaker and I ended up losing a lot, destroying what little self-confidence I still had in myself. Nothing was going good for me and it was just the little things getting to me besides Annabell. Things at home weren’t going well with the relationship between my parents and I, a lot of family members were passing away, and I felt like there was no point in living anymore. Of course that was just a thought and not an action that I was going to inflict on myself.

            However throughout the midst of my junior year, I began to gradually get better through the help of my friends. Because even if I felt alone, I knew there was always someone to share a smile, and surely but slowly those smiles would encourage me to find hope again. I was able to overcome the greatest hurdle of my life and regain my optimistic and super swag persona, TedMAN, again. My experience with Annabell has taught me that in one point of your life you experience that one romance that you have with that special someone. Even if it doesn’t work out, it’s okay because it has taught me a plethora of things.

            No matter what happens, don’t let the other people around you change who you really are (I am the TedMAN). Through the midst of these hurdles, I realize that even in the darkest situations you can find light. Also, compared to myself many others suffer similar or even worse scenarios, so having that in mind I knew what to do. After this experience and my dark depression junior year, I began to be more optimistic through spreading smiles. Because you never know when your smile could affect someone’s day in a positive way, I always spread my smile. I am now back on track with everything as I am the varsity captain of tennis and getting my GPA back to where it was originally. As for things such as love? I figured that if it happens, I should just let it happen (kind of like going with the flow). My self-confidence and trust issues (DO I SOUND LIKE DRAKE) are still recovering, but for things like love, it can wait. I’m still young and I figured, “If you can’t be happy without someone, then something’s wrong.” I am now living the best of what life has to offer and spreading smiles daily. I would like to thank you for reading this rollercoaster of an experience. Remember to smile, because no matter what anyone thinks, you’re a great person, beautiful on the outside and inside.