It's Your Lucky Day! New Featured Writers Are Up!

Here are your March writers!  Go Read and enjoy!

Be sure to read all the new pieces for March, and comment  on at least three of them.  (follow the guidelines below, if you've forgotten.  Comments are due on the blog AND in class (hard copy) by April 3.

Remember:
All Students:  Be sure to read the entries for this month.  Everyone is required to comment on at least three different pieces of writing.  You must post the comment here on the blog (below the post is the "comments" link to click) AND cut and paste your comments, complete with dates and times, on to a Word document and turn it in to me by the due date.  You must do both to get credit for comments this month.

Remember, comments must be positive, supportive, constructive, and SPECIFIC.  No "Good Job!" comments, unless you follow that with specific things you thought were done well in the piece.  Show them you actually took the time to read and enjoy their work!

"Renegade" by Andrew T

Outside, the world was a cold, harsh environment. Scattered along the streets were waste, broken shards of glass, scraps of rusted metals, ashes. Ashes, the remains of the last execution. The result of scattered along the streets were waste, broken shards of glass, scraps of rusted metals, ashes. Ashes, the remains of the last execution. The result of defiance against an imperial guard. I could remember the cries and last prayers of the victim before her wiped her dirt­covered face and with her remaining dignity, placed her head against the block. Chop​.​The crowd was silent as the red seeps and spreads of the platform’s boards. Across from me, an old woman presents a blank expression while if one notices, the sparkle running down her cheek, a tear of despair, loss,…mourning.

Walking to the yard I begin to work, gathering the potatoes from the ground. Pulling up crop after crop in the bone chilling weather. Next to me, I find a middle aged man, with skinny legs and arms from malnourishment. In his condition, the superior has not given him his wages. I could see why. The man’s body is starved and barren of energy that he is not able to reach his quota and therefore receives no money to pay for his meals. I pity him. The grey hair that blows in the chilly breeze from his face cover a wrinkled, dark face both calm yet disheartening. Before the day ends, two guards walk through the fields and take the feeble man away.

In the middle of the day as the clock strikes, the workers all gather in the city square. The guards shout and as everyone remains silent, everyone is forced to bow as the anthem of the empire is played on the old PA speakers they have wired all over the streets and buildings. On this district of the city, the slums, all the workers must gather to honor the emperor and the imperial family. As the music plays throughout the entire square, all I hear are the heavy breathing of hundreds of people, tired, hungry,…miserable.

As the sun rises the next day, I wake to find my older brother motioning me to the doorway of our home: a shack among others which bordered the plantations. On the road, several people, young and old, poor and miserable gather as a group becomes a crowd and eventually the crowd becomes a mass. Several hold knives, shotguns, handguns, and flags of the resistance. Red and blue for freedom and democracy. My family rushes out to join them and as I am handed a flag to wave and march with, I watch as a day passes and the streets that were once filled with debris and waste were now flowing with the blood of the tyrants. As monuments are knocked over, palaces are stormed, and those who once oppressed us were eliminated in cold blood, I looked to the flag waving in the wind: the revolution had just begun.

"What Is Your Name?" by Ellamae A

Session one.

The room is dark with the only exception as a strain of light peeking between the heavy curtains. On the plain, tan wall strings multiple framed diplomas and awards.”Stanford University Diploma for Master’s Degree in Psychology” “Florence Halpern Award for Distinguished Professional Contributions to Clinical Psychology” etc. Across the room, is a long couch and on it sits a girl about 17, uncomfortably twiddling at her fingers with her head hanging low. In front of her, on an armoire, sits a punctilious woman with a clipboard laid anxiously on her lap.

Woman.​It’s our 27th session, Mary. Now, please, if you really want to get better we need to cooperate. You and me.

Mary.​[Quietly​ murmurs]​

Woman.​Mary, this is hard. I know. Why don’t we talk about your family?...Maybe about your

twin... Jane perhaps?...

Mary.​[Gradually​ looks up.​]She’s a bitch.

Woman.​And why do you believe that?

Mary.​[Offended​]​Why wouldn’t I?! All she does is yell. All she does is complain. All she does is get angry at me for almost everything I do. She can go to hell, for all I care.

Woman.​Isee. [Writes​ diligently onto her clipboard]​Can you remember maybe what you did exactly to trigger her anger at you?

Mary.​[Extensively pauses]​I… I don’t actually remember… I just remember her yelling at me. Something about how ugly I looked that day. God, she’s a real piece of work.



Woman writes actively. A timer goes off in the room somewhere.

Woman.​Well Mary. I’d say we actually progressed today. I’d like to continue this next week if you mind, okay? See you then.

Session two.

Woman is seated as Mary tramples into the office and drops herself into the couch, face red and fists clenched.
Woman.​Hello Mary. I’m very glad to see you today.

Mary flashes a sarcastic smile at her.

Woman.​Did something happen today? Would you like to begin our session today by talking about it?...

Mary.​Actually I would. [She​ looks up. Her face furious with contempt.]​Remember how we talked about the demon that is my so­called sister, Jane? Well, today, she just couldn’t help, but attempt to ruin my damn life!

Woman.​[Inquisitively​]​How so?

Mary.​Apparently, she just couldn’t keep her grubby, selfish hands to herself at the department store at the mall yesterday so she decided to steal a 325 dollar blouse! Can you believe it?! [Woman​ frantically writing on her clipboard.]​That’s not even the worse part. She comes home and the police call the home saying they have her on video and start questioning her about her grab. But, Jesus, that manipulative monster pulls her innocent, fake, and high­pitched voice on them, claiming innocence and that the girl who stole the blouse was me!

Women.​[Abruptly​ stops writing]​Wait...What?

The timer goes off suddenly.

Mary.​You know what, I’m gonna give Jane a little bit of her own medicine... [She​ stands and rushes out the door before the woman can say anything.​]

Later on.

Mary charges into her house and scuffles up the stairs in quiet fury. She sees Jane standing in the bathroom and pauses. Jane’s own face is red, with a mangled smile.

Mary.​[To​ herself.]​You evil, evil person. No one is as heartless as you. Everyday, you have criticized how I look and what I do. And now, you deliberately try to ruin me? No. I will not have it.

Mary​.​[Fists​ clenched, towards her twin]​JANE!

She takes a hard swing at her sister.

Mary.​[Laughs​ maniacally]​SERVES YOU RIGHT.




Mary.​.. . [Looking​ at her fist. Bloodied. Stinging, Shards of Glass embedded.]​






She takes a step back.





She sees shards of a mirror peculiarly scattered around her feet.





She looks up to what seems to me the remnants of a mirror on the bathroom wall and in it, her own reflection.

Her.​My name is Mary Jane…

“KOOL-AID MAN” by Nate S

            One afternoon, while I was shopping with my mother at the nearby Wal-Mart, I noticed a life size cardboard cutout of the Kool-Aid man.  Being the rebellious and wicked child I am, I decided to steal the cut out of the Kool-Aid man and put it in my room.  Because how hilarious of a story would it be that I stole a cutout of the Kool-Aid man from Wal-Mart in the middle of the day without anyone noticing?  Anyways, I took this thing home and set it up in my room.  It was the coolest thing I had in my room, and I was so excited to brag about it, and be like “OH YEAH!”  A few nights past and I grew tired of my stupid jokes and telling the story to different friends, so the Kool-Aid man just became another addition to all the random crap chilling out in my room.  Coincidentally, the same night I thought to myself about how lame I was for being so entertained by this stupid cardboard cutout of the Kool-Aid man, I had the craziest dream.  I dreamed that the Kool-Aid man came to life!  In this dream of mine, I was told by the Kool-Aid man to jump into the middle of his pitcher shaped body into the sea of sugary cherry goodness.  So what would you do if the Kool-Aid man told you to jump into him? YOU DO IT!  As I cannon balled into his chilling bodily fluids I was sent spiraling into what seemed to be the Narnia of Kool-Aid men and women.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, and even though I knew it was a dream, it felt so real.  The various flavors of Kool-Aids were greeting me left and right with the jolliest “OH YEAH’s” along with a wink and a friendly gunpoint hand gesture.  Boy was I the happiest teenage boy ever at this time along in my dream; I was living the life amongst the gnarliest creatures to walk my dream’s wildest imagination.  My adventures with my main dude, the cherry Kool-Aid guy I jumped into (the same one I stole from Wal-Mart), progressed and we shared lots of great times together.  But as the day went on, I got really thirsty.  This thirst soon became an uncontrollable urge to drink my newly made friends.  All of a sudden, I found myself drinking everyone I ran into, including my new best friend.  As this wonderful dream slowly took a turn for the worst, I awoke myself in my slumber.  I woke to myself and my bed being drenched, and not in pee in case you were wondering, but cherry Kool-Aid.  I sat up in bed, freaking out as to why I’m drenched in Kool-Aid to find my best friend, the cherry Kool-Aid man, towering above me staring down ferociously into my soul with a serrated blade in his glass hand.  Stuck in a moment of relapse, I was frozen to death as he continued to yell out….”OH…YEAH!!!”

"Black and White" by Jack M

Black.

“All I see is black. I have not seen a real human face since… I have not seen a real human face since… Have I ever even seen a human face?”

Black.

            “It surrounds me. I’m ensnared and I’m not sure if I can escape.”

Black.

            “You see it’s not that I am physically unable to leave; I just don’t know if I can leave emotionally. There is something inside me that desires to go. That part of me wants to feel the fresh breeze in my face and the sun on my skin. That part of me is curious to see a real life tree or animal or cloud or star or… oh I’ve lost what I was thinking about.”

Black.

            “Oh I do apologize. The human brain is not meant to think independently so it is very easy to lose one’s train of thought. But I digress. There is something exciting in this position that I am in. I mean I have been excited before but never like this. Is this anxiety? I have never been anxious before!”

Black.

            “If all you have ever known could change in an instant at your beck and call, would you take that opportunity? It’s right there; change. I dream about it sometimes; the world outside. In this dream I soar over an ocean until I reach a beach and crash in the warm sand. It doesn’t hurt because the sand catches me and envelops my body. Suddenly I’m at the top of a mountain peak looking down on a luscious green valley as an eagle soars above my head. But at the end of the dream I go to touch a single blade of grass in between the cracks of the rocky mountain top and everything disappears. I wake up.”

Black.

            “All I see is black. My Television screen is off. It’s time. It’s time I go outside.”

Black.

He continues to prepare himself to leave the room that he has not left since the moment he was born and while he does so, every other person in the world continues to watch their own Television screens, unaware that he has turned off his and is about to be the first person in over a millennia to step outside.

White.

"Oops” by Mia T

He sits across the room in the corner. His name was Brad. I’ve liked him for quite some time now. He finally gave me his number after school on a notecard that said “text me”. I was so excited I started blushing. I never thought a guy like him would go for a girl like me.

That evening, when I got home from school, I didn’t know what to do. I thought to text him right then and there, but I didn’t want to seem desperate. Maybe he’ll think it’s cute. Or he’ll just think I’m a creep. So I waited and waited. I watched the clock strike 4…5. I knew it had to be now or never. I typed out his number so fast with excitement. I texted hey with a smiley face. It has already been three minutes and no answer. Maybe his phone is on silent. Ten minutes has passed now. I checked over the message. I probably came off to strong with the smiley face. I went over his number and I noticed that put in the wrong number. Of course I messed up his phone number. I put in his number once again but this time correctly. This time I put “Hey what’s up” with a winking face. Then within a minute he replied. He replied back saying “I thought you have forgotten”. I didn’t know what to say back so I just said, “ Why would I forget”. We had been talking for fifteen minutes now. I didn’t want it to end. Until my mom texted me that she found my red boots in the downstairs closet. I was so happy that I texted “Yay I love you” but not to her. It was to Brad. I thought I was still on my mom’s contact but I was on his. He replied back with so many question marks. I was so embarrassed. While I was typing back he said he had to go. I knew I blew it. The one chance I finally get to talk to my crush I blow it.

The next day at school, I didn’t want him to notice me, but I saw him laughing with his friends at his desk. I knew they were talking about me. I was so sad that I started tearing up. I looked up and I saw Brad get up from his seat and walking toward my desk. I wiped up my tears and lifted up my head. He came over and gave me another card. I knew it had to be something mean or joke his friends came up with. It read, “What ever happen last night, lets just forget about it. Deal? If so, meet me by the basketball hoop after school“. I thought maybe he is a nice guy.

So after school I went to the basketball courts. No one was there besides two people. One of them was Brad and the other looked like a girl. I went a little closer. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Brad with Jennifer. Jennifer Hook! She’s one of the most popular girls in the tenth grade. There were holding hands and laughing. Then I saw them look over at me and started to laugh louder. Then they started pointing at something behind me. I turned around and saw a group of a people. They started laughing as well. I was so embarrassed. I ran down to the parking lot, where my mom picks me up, with tears running down my face. Once I started getting closer I stopped to catch my breath and cleared my face. I got in the car and my mom was asking me so many questions. I was so upset and annoyed I told her I didn’t want to talk about and slammed the door. When I finally got home I went straight to my room and locked the door. I closed all the curtains. I turned out all the lights. I knew he was too good to be true. I was sobbing my eyes out. It was the worst day of my life and also my last.

"A Night to Remember" By Aliza B

       We were unstoppable… Or that’s what we thought. The three of us always new how to have fun under any circumstance. Friday. It was going to be the best night any of us would ever experience. It was the hugest party of the year and all of us were invited. We couldn’t wait. Then it came. The night we had all been waiting for. Julie and Alexis met up at my house so we could get ready. It was almost time to leave and we were frantically getting our hair and makeup done. Were on the freeway, it’s around 8:40 and the party started a long time ago. Julie is driving and were blasting music and just having fun. It all happened so fast. When I woke up I was in the hospital not knowing where I was or what happened. All I heard was “You were in a bad accident but you’ll be fine.” My heart raced. What happened to my two best friends? I was screaming at the doctor, “Where are they, what happened to my friends?.  I just wanted to know where they were. “You’re friends did not survive the crash.” He told me the front seats were totaled and my friends would never make it. I was crushed. I never knew something like that would happen, but they were right. It was a night to remember.

"Paint Me Yellow" by Nita B

Yellow. When you picture the color yellow, you might find yourself being submerged in a
feeling of warmth as you think of what the color signifies. Energy. Joy. New beginnings.
However, in India, the color yellow represents sacrifice, and more specifically, the sacrifice of
oneself for a larger purpose. This is a color I will always have the humbling experience of being
acquainted with whenever I refer back to my film project. A project that I was not so keen to
begin with, yet in the end, it offered me a larger perspective on the meaning of integrity. I found
myself journeying to India to revisit and retell the story of revolutionaries who were famously
known during the war on independence nearly two decades ago. On August 1st, 1967, my
partner Sonakshi and I arrived in New Delhi in an effort to find people to help relay any
information they might know of. We eventually stumbled across two men by the names of Arash
and Mohan who reluctantly agreed to help us with our documentary-styled
rendition of the story.

As the filming of the story progressed, not only did I learn about the colorful culture surrounding
me, I also heard stories the about the notorious political corruption and turmoil which seemed to
have risen once again. We heard news that there had been a military plane that crashed in a
nearby village due to the government’s role in an illicit trade of faulty parts for a larger profit.
Upon hearing this news, my three companions insisted that we lead a protest outside of the
government building in order to educate the public of the tragedies that took place. As a large
crowd gathered around Arash, Mohan, and Sonakshi; I came to the chill inducing realization that
the lives of my actors paralleled the idealism of the revolutionaries that they were meant to
portray in my film. I uncovered the lens of my camera to capture the police brutality taking place
so that the media could alert the people in the area. I looked around and captured the people who
surrounded me. The people here embodied the reason the war that took place years prior. People
who will stop at nothing to fight for independence and justice. People who are painted in yellow.

"The Unknown" by Alyssa A

On an ominous night where the crows begin to cry, and the clouds began to cover the tracks of suspicion, the sound of my engine began steer away from what it usually is like. And after driving for a couple miles with the engine sounding like nails being dragged on glass, my car stopped. In the depths of Oregon, a shroud of darkness and fear enveloped my surroundings. Luckily, the cabin that my mom and I were staying at was only about a mile away. Since the car was functionally useless at that point, I left it on the side of the road to be picked up by the local towing company, while I took a trip through the forest to test my courage. Walking into the woods wasn’t the most terrifying experience I had been through in my life; however, walking through the forest was a completely different task. I could hear the breath of coyotes preparing their plans for a glorious meal, the caws of crows announcing my presence, and even the howls of wolves that wanted a kill just for the hunt. Although I knew I only had a little more ways to go, the idea I could lose my life at any moment from any direction, gave me an agonizing experience that haunted me. The anxiety of fear became so intense that the only solution was to overcome it with a source of unimaginable adrenaline. I was only a few yards from the front of our cabin when I saw a strange dark figure looking out the window on the second floor. I could see the only light of the cabin on the porch, which was the all the incentive that I needed to make sure I was able to survive. Even though I was met with the horrors that lurked within the forest, I was able to make it to our cabin in front of the lake under a cool moonlit night. As I walked through the door, I could hear the warm call of my mom saying my name from the second floor, but as I began to walk to the stairs, a hand flew out and grabbed me by the wrist. It was my mom’s hand and all she could say to me was, “I heard your name too”.

"Where He Went" by Cynthia A

We met when we were 7 and I still remember every single detail of that day. It was raining and
the sidewalk was all slippery and any decent human being would know that if you attempted any
kind of facetious activity it would not end well. Well guess what that wing nut decided to do that
day? He wanted to go rollerblading. Yes. Roller blading. and guess what that incompetent fool
was left with? Two sprained ankles, and a chipped tooth. How? well, I was minding my own
business drawing in my room when I see a little whaling boy going, what it looked like 50 mph
tumble and fall, rolling 4 times before he finally hits a tree with full force. I laughed so hard I
snorted! (I know, I know, he was all bloody and hurt.) But he was a bloody idiot. I immediately
ran out and helped him. (Laughing the whole way) I was extremely concerned for the guy don't
get me wrong, But he was a complete imbecile. When I reached him he was knocked out. Cold. I
mean gone. So I carried his sorry butt into my house and laid him on my bed. No one was in the
streets and no one was home. I cleaned up the blood from his mouth and forehead and did the
best I could to get the blood out of my clothes but it was no use. So I changed and put the other
part of his tooth in a ziplock and tried to help this fool to back to proper health. I waited for him
to come back to life by continuing my drawing. He groaned, scaring me to death causing me to
immediately hide behind my desk. But as soon as I came into contact with his eyes, I knew. I
knew everything was fine. I hadn’t really taken a good look at him, but was glad when I did. He
had the most amazing features. His eyes were the perfect shade of green and blue I’d ever seen.
His hair was a beautiful dirty blond. and he was neither chunky nor scrawny, “
Loretta??” He said. How did this freak know my name? I didn’t even know his?!
“I’m Dean.” He said. “Loretta’s your name right? . . . . I heard it in a dream and knew it was
yours the moment I saw your big hazel eyes. ”
. . . That’s the memory that played when I saw his motionless figure lying on my bed. That’s
when Everything changed. That’s when everything grew meaningless. All at that very moment.
He swore he wouldn’t do it. He promised me. He crossed his heart and hoped to die. . . He
seemed to have executed the second one rather efficiently and effortlessly. I still can’t fathom
how lifeless his eyes were. He entered the same way he left. I guess i’d rather remember how he
came into my life than having watched him leave it.