Finally! :) Here's our November Writers!

Feel free to read and begin commenting!  Your comment deadline will be set after Friday's December writers are up also.  We'll be commenting on all November and December pieces this time!

“TIS LOVE, OR TIS LUST” by Kayla W.

To be honest I was going to write my piece on beauty….Until I saw that someone had already did that. So, I started thinking of what else to write about, and it finally hit me. LOVE. There are a lot of different definitions of love. For example, there is godly, romantic, and fraternal. I decided to only talk about the romantic aspect. The dictionary definition of love (like we all don’t already know what it is)…….is a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.

 In today’s society, love is just about everywhere. There is literally no escape from it. Either we listen to love or we see love…....right? The real question is Tis Love, or Tis Lust? How can you tell if the couple that you’re looking at, is really in love? Or, do they just want each other physically. Can you decipher if the artist is spittin’ out bars on love or lust? Just take a moment and think. Does anybody ever really know what love looks like? Personally I believe that nobody truly knows what love looks like unless they have been through it themselves.

At school, literally everywhere I go I see couple after couple after couple. The bad thing about that is as I get older the couples get younger and younger. Do the couples even know if they truly love each other? Finding a couple that truly loves each other is difficult. It’s almost like an enormous game of Where’s Waldo?  Sometimes people just get together for the physical part. Which makes absolutely no sense to me because once you interact in that sort of activity, you can never get back what you have given. Is anybody ever truly ready for that? I remember this like it happened yesterday, and I truly believe that it is horrific. It was during my freshman year in 6^th period, in Mrs. Roger’s biology class. I really don’t remember how we started talking about this, but next thing I knew this girl was telling our lab group that she had lost her virginity in 8^th grade……SKERT…… I said “is this a joke, are you for real”? (In my head). All I wanna know is, was it for da love or for da pleasure?

I feel like when you act on physical attraction alone that nine times out of ten it won’t end so well. Unless of course it’s in a book. The revolting thing about love is that it can be because of a person not having anywhere else to go. Or, because they have become brainwashed. In the sense that they know and everyone else knows that they are being abused, and when confronted about it; they reply with the infamous, “I love them too much to leave” or “They didn’t mean too” or “It was my fault because I didn’t listen.” When I hear that I think, NOOOOOO. Clearly you have not read Twilight. When a couple is asked about love they need to respond with these few words from Stephanie Meyers, “Even more, I had never meant to love him. One thing I truly knew- knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it deep in my empty chest- was how love gave someone the power to break you.” That right there is just a snippet of what true love should be like, is that something that is possible to achieve? Sure it is, you just have to find it. Or, you can take the easy way out and ask Bella Cullen because I’m sure she would gladly enlighten you on what true love is. Or you can just ask your parents. (0_0) < (^3^) >

"My Biggest Fear" by Annika J.

 

       I wake up on another regular Wednesday morning at 6 AM to start to get ready for work. The sun has just risen as I head to the bathroom. I stand and look at myself in the mirror. My breath fogs up the mirror and I take a closer look just to ensure that it is in fact myself looking back at me. But I can't recognize the person staring back. All that is left of me has withered away. What’s the point of it all? All my life I've been directed down a certain path. A path that has already been set up for me. A path that everyone must follow in order to be successful. As soon as I was old enough to understand, they started telling me “You've got to get all A's in school! Be a part of every club and organization so you can be different from everyone else." Set yourself apart and be different so you can go to college and get a nine to five job like everyone else. Spend your time and youth constructing an amazing story to tell about yourself so a stranger can one day read it and determine your future.

    After high school, they moved on to the next thing I had to do. "You've got to go to an amazing college! Without that degree from a top ranking university, you are completely worthless in society!” But not a degree in just anything. My talent and enjoyment in cooking or art meant nothing because it was difficult to be successful in. It meant taking a risk that wasn't worth my time or energy. My happiness wasn't worth the time or energy. It wasn't the "smart" decision. So I did what they told me. I went to that top ranking college and majored in a "safe" major. I worked hard and did as I was instructed all my life so I could be just like everyone else. I was told to follow my dreams all throughout my childhood but then to forget about them as I grew older because "they weren't practical." I was told that someone smart like me should get a stable job so they could support themselves and eventually a family. Forget about the cost of it because I would supposedly be able to pay it off once I had that job. Now after eight years of school, having a degree in a field I dread, I am left to sink in debt without a life jacket.

    When I went about this path I didn't understand what I was in for. Little did I realize that once I had the job everyone seems to envy, that I would hate it. All of the passion I had was sucked out of my soul once I saw the light at the end of this tunnel we call the "real world." My dreams left to die and my eagerness to learn soiled by pounds upon tons of work. The system doesn't want passionate, creative people. It wants robots that can continue to create millions just like myself. The system has no feelings. No remorse. No heart or sympathy. So take a step back. What is our purpose in this vast universe? Do we even matter in the large scheme of things?  We don't. We are all just a tiny morsel in the vast expanse of time. So why torture yourself? Why forget the things that make you happy? Don't do things for other people or to make money. Do something that will help you lead a happy life. Don't give up that talent or skill that makes you proud. Don't be me. Spend time with your family. Go to that movie with that friend you haven't talked to in years.  Do what makes you happy because when your life comes to a close that is what you'll remember. The happy moments.

    These thoughts run through my head every morning as I begin to get ready for another day. The feeling of knowing exactly what is wrong with my life and not having the power to fix it eats at me every single day. I try to think of solutions or ways to try to make my life mine once again but I can never seem to get myself to do it. I don't know how much longer I could keep this up. Just going through the motions, not knowing who I even am anymore. But alas, this is my life and now I must go to work.

"Specter" by Noah A.

You ever wondered what it feels like to see the face of death, giving you that grimly grin, with open arms, just waiting to welcome you in its embrace? Those soulless, black voids of obsidian, boring into the thoughts of your heads, distorting your judgments until you’re driven to the point of no return, staring directly at the entrance sign to the land of madness? Obviously I’m exaggerating to an extreme right now, but if you were in my position, you wouldn’t be having the best of thoughts either. People say that life is like a rolling hill, constantly going up and down. But for me, it was more like skydiving from the moon to the deepest trench in the ocean at terminal velocity. Now, don’t get all sorry for me and say, “Oh you poor, poor creature! How could you deserve this?”, because I don’t need your sympathy and your sentiment. I’ve given up on caring about others an eternity ago. Which leads to the question, where am I right now? Currently, I am dangling, by one arm, holding on to a branch the size of my foot over a cliff so big, the guy that free-falled from the stratosphere would literally scream himself to death. I have a broken leg, my heel is diced like a tomato, and I have a searing burn wound located in the middle of my palm. And yes, it is the palm of the hand that is the only connection I have between the cold, despair of death, and the dreaded life I’ll go back to if I survive, which is practically impossible at this point. The longer I hang, the warmer Death’s arms and skeletal smile seems to become. If only my dearest friends hadn’t betrayed me. Oh I probably should’ve mentioned how I got here shouldn’t I? Well, I’ll cover the long story later, but for now, here is the short, abridged version. A few guys wanted me dead so I got my two closest friends to help me escape them, but it turns out that my pursuers bribed them, held their families hostage, leading them to inflict my current injures upon me, and push me over the edge of a canyon. What a beautiful world we live in! Now prepare your ears-or your eyes in this case since you’re not listening to this but reading it instead-  for the most convoluted, distressing, hilariously pathetic stories of all time. Isn’t this going to be fantastic!!!!

            It all starts with who I am and where I came from. Well, I’m only 15 with a license to kill, and I have more registered assassinations then the one and only James Bond. That puts a pretty massive bounty over my life, and people really, REALLY like the color green in this world. Money practically sets the boundaries and limitations of our lives. Anyways, I had just returned from a mission called, Specter, where I killed the corrupt, government leader of a little country called  England. Lets just say the people haven’t been following the example of their predecessors very well. Turns out it went wrong; I killed the wrong guy like the stupid idiot I am would. My “target” was actually the leader of the secret organization called Specter, hence the mission title, which I gave it. His facilitates weren’t very pleased with that and came after me faster than a bull who wants to stick his horns right through you. I saw them coming for me, grabbed my besties from our agency, Piper and Nico, and we took off. As we were driving my tire popped, flinging us out of the car, and “coincidentally” placed me on the edge of a canyon. This broke my leg, threw a piece of shrapnel through the end of my heel, and severely burnt hand. They then proceeded to roll me over the edge, while the whole time they monologue and threw the ugly exposition of why they were doing this, and why the HAD to do it. So I fought back as best as I could resulting in them receiving many broken bones and dislocated joints from my superb assassin skills. Luck soon decided to withdraw from my area, because they overpowered me, and finished the job. Or so they thought. While rehashing this story to you, I climbed up the Cliffside, only like 30 feet or some stupid American measurement like that, and am now standing over the container of my death, a.k.a my blown up car. They thought I was dead. I didn’t die. I can’t die. I won’t die. My last breath will be used hunting them down. I will scavenge across the world if I have to. You know what, they did kill me, because part of myself died on that cliff. It is only a ghost, a specter, of who I am now. They turned me into a killing machine. But I’ve malfunctioned, and become aware of what the truth is. Nothing can stop this. They set this course of events into actions. Catalysts are what I’ll call them. And far as its concerned, the Catalysts are good as dead. To me and everyone else. They won’t exist anymore. They’ll simply be ghosts, fragmented images of the past

"What I See" by Jorge R.

            I remember the day, like everyday I remember waking up to the sound of my family. They are always up so early and I would have no other choice, but to wake up with them.  We would always love traveling to places. We love to wander the woods and explore new things. Man I love how beautiful nature is. The warm sun always hitting my beautiful colors making me warm and full of happiness. I love seeing the flowers bloom and how their colors shine with a bright delagate texture. I love the food I eat and the air I breathe. Birds flying at patterns that can amaze many and bring them to tears. The sky, bluer then blue, having clouds all over giving a beautiful piece of art to look at. The trees, oh my goodness the trees! They hold such beauty with the green leaves and brown textured bark. It gives me so much shade that I can sleep there forever. My family though don’t give me the time to enjoy what this beautiful world has to offer. No matter how nice nature is, my family and I always have to keep moving to different places. After quite awhile of traveling, we began to enter a city. So many lights in this city, I think darkness never existed. So many cars and people honking their horns and many people having road rage. In my case though, I don’t like being in these type of places. Its always cramped and noisy, I mean, I NEED TO FIND A QUIET PLACE TO REST! I found a tree line so I figured I go to it in hopes of finding something quiet to sleep at. I left my family for now, but I figured I meet back with them soon. As I kept on walking towards the tree line I began hearing a lot of crunching noise from the leaves that have fallen from the trees. I begin to get scared and start to run, faster then I ever ran. The crunching had then stopped and I figured I lost whatever was following me. I stood at one place catching my breath. Then  I began to think about the beautiful nature again and how much I love living. Then after that I just heard a loud noise,”BOOM!” Everything went black after that. I couldn’t remember anything after that noise. Although I began to open my eyes finding myself standing in clouds. Everything was white and it looked as if I was flying. Then I looked down through the clouds and saw my body. It was a horrible sight! I saw people stuffing my body with some sort of food and putting me in the oven. Then they took my body out and set it on the center of the dinner table surrounded by a family. They begin to bow their heads and pray, then they begin to feast. It was so horrible and I wondered,”Why are they doing this!” Then I remembered, that my mistake was wandering away from my family… a day before Thanksgiving, I hate being a turkey!

“Wake Up” by Christian O.

I still remember the day she came and laid on my bed. She laid down and for a moment I paused... I looked at her and could see the glare of her eyes. She is beautiful. Her hair is spread out across my pillow, its color blended in with the night. I approach the bed slowly. Carefully stepping over a pair of cleats I got last season. Each step is heavy... but I finally lye myself down and sink into the pillow alongside her. I can feel her hair on the back of my head. It is dark. We can only see the head lights of passing cars reflect through my window onto my ceiling. I can’t see her face but I can feel it through the pillow. Through the darkness I look at her and say "****, do you lo..." Before I can finish she says "always, *****".

It’s quiet now. A line of light runs across the ceiling as we hear the sound of another car pass by. I gaze at her in that moment of light... then I see her smile. Everything felt slow. My body began to grow stiff and soon I became immobile. She comes closer and lays her head on my chest. It begins to move up and down higher each breath. She laughs and says "don't take such deep breaths" but it was not my breathing that lifted my chest.... It was my heart. It was beating slowly but powerfully.

           

She is asleep now. To savor the moment, I pretended to fall asleep as well. I mean...how could I sleep? Such a moment I was in...Would I ever have this experience again? Her head begins to weigh me down. Her earring presses deep and molds a mark of a sunflower on my chest. Her breath is warm. She mumbles "ugh" in her sleep. She reaches out and pulls my arm over her...as I begin to brush my fingers through her hair. I then tell her a story about a boy who met a girl and their journey up until that point. I know she is asleep but maybe...maybe my voice will soothe her. Moments later she wakes up. She shakes me to see if I am awake but I continue to pretend. She then tells me a story but pauses...."Do you love me?" she asks. I wait a moment to respond. "To the moon and back". Silently she replies "okay..." She then hugs me tightly, pressing her cheek against mine and whispers "Wake up....You're sleeping"

My eyes frantically open to the sight of the same fan I have owned since 4th grade. I turn to my side only to see nothing but my phone charging on the pillow. The time ironically reads 23:40 pm. I had truly believed she was there but much like the previous nights she wasn't...and once again....it was time to "wake up".