"Help!" (Bonus Material!) by Bianca M

 

"Christmas Tradition ~ Lost Forever or Soon to be Revamped?" Bonus Poem By Kayla M

 Christmas Tradition ~ Lost Forever or Soon to be Revamped?

Bonus! (Not for grade)

Eleven months has passed

 

December is now here

 

Wow, time went fast

 

Now it’s my favorite time of year

 

December holds two things close to my heart

 

The day I was born eighteen years ago

 

Thankful for my mom who started my character arc

 

And a certain holiday that is associated with snow

 

Every year, our decorations are put up in late November My little sister and I team up decorating our tree

My dad hangs up the lights, which at night they glow like ember

 

My mom wraps presents, for family and friends soon to be filled with glee

 

This team we’ve created as a family

 

Has made tradition that we do

 

For our favorite holiday annually

 

For the Christmas that holds us like glue

 

Our traditions consist of after final decorating we go to Church, celebrating the birth of Christ Later going home to eat our feast

With food that is probably overpriced

 

Soon going to bed, soon our gifts of tomorrow will be released

 

Overall, the traditions we continue

 

Is what helps me keep on living

 

Each of us showing our tribute

 

To “The gift that keeps on giving.”

 

Our Christmas Practices happen every year

 

But one thing comes to mind

 

Will these things we hold dear,

 

Be forever be left behind

 

I am now what you call coming of age

 

Turned eighteen on the thirteenth of December

 

My is life is turning to a new page

 

Will we have time to be together?

 

I’m now laying in awake on the night of Christmas eve

Now worried what the Future will hold

 

Will my parents and baby sister continue traditions without me?

 

Or will they leave them out in the cold?

 

The more I think, the more worried I get

 

My family depends on each other all the time

 

My sister and I work together like we are singing a duet

 

While my parents are aging, their backs not allowing them to climb for lights that mimic the sunshine

 

What would we do without the complete group?

 

To keep our spirits up and prevent from falling so soon

 

With me leaving the nest, losing a member of our troop

 

Will traditions be gone, like letting go of a balloon?

 

Next Morning, being woken up by my sister

 

Her screams of joy put a smile on my face

 

Running down the stairs, hoping she doesn’t end up with a blister

 

She soon arrives to the tree, with me in tow, close to our fireplace

 

My parents are smiling, finally happy that we are awake

 

Both telling my sister, “Look what Santa left for you.”

 

They looked at me winking, indicating this secret a keepsake

 

Also giving me a present in wrapping paper of a nice hue

 

Seeing their gaze of determination to keep their annual traditions living Made me wonder, Why was I worrying in the first place?

Seeing all this joyfulness in the air thriving

 

Put happiness upon my face

 

Knowing the bond we all created

 

Is what Christmas is about

 

As we are solely motivated

 

By spending time with each other, with a bond that’ll cause us to never back out

 

These traditions shows our teamwork

 

Making us happy as we can be

 

Now drinking hot coco, admiring our artwork

 

Along with sitting watching holiday shows near our Christmas tree.

“FEAR” by Ernesto C

            What is fear?

Is it a person?

An object?

An emotion?

Can it drive you insane?

Does it drive you to do drastic actions?

The scariest thing is that fear can be anything that you wish it to be

A father looking frantically for his son

A child laying in bed clutching his teddy bear in fear of the darkness surrounding him

A criminal about to get captured with a hostage, a firearm, and rapid thoughts

Each, a story behind their thoughts and actions they made

            A father looking frantically for his son

His body movements say he will kill anyone who has his boy

But his eyes are filled with fear, with thoughts he will never see his precious baby again

His mouth opens in despair while he is looking down on what seems the miles and miles of endless hordes of people

Screams and Screams of the little boys name is heard throughout the mall
People stop what they're doing and look to see what's going on but don't help

While the father is pushing through the gigantic crowd looking at the ground for his little boy

The mother has nearly lost hope of ever finding him and tears roll down her face

For the two it feels like it's been hours since he has disappeared

Her screams turn into yells into calls and into whispers

Her unbreakable spirit has finally shattered

While the father is looking in every corner and store getting more pushy and frightened as he looks with no results

The mother is shaking, but sitting and waiting at the last she saw her baby, hoping he will come back

The father's eyes are filled with joy as he spots his son

He is trying to reach the top of the gumball machine to put his quarter in the slot, with hopes to get his favorite color

He scoops his child up, yelling at him to never walk away from him again and then embracing him

As the child is complaining that he never got his gum because the quarter dropped on the ground

He hands his wife their little boy and her face lights up and she cries once more

Not out of fear but out of enjoyment that he found their son

                        In the dark winter night somewhere in the world

Some child's night light went out

He is now wide eyed and sitting up because he doesn't see the yellow light through his eyelids

He clutches his teddy bear in fear of the darkness, afraid of what can be lurking in the dark hours

He wants to go to his parents room but hears them snoring through their locked closed door

And he regrets going back into their room after they clearly said

 “If you go in our room again we will lock the door, and were not kidding this time.”

He whispers to his bear “ It's going to be okay teddy, you're going to protect me right?

As it stares blankly back at him, as he makes a little voice in his head answering back

“ Of course I will buddy” and they both go back to staring into the darkness

Backing up to the wall where no evil creature can come up behind him and take him away

He is looking towards the closet and door making sure nothing comes out of it

His overactive imagination his playing tricks on him

As he sees weirdly shaped arms and heads and he is truly frightened clutching to his bear for dear life

But after a few ten minutes staying up in fear, he doesn't notice he is knocked out, sleeping heavily

Blood rushing through his fingers and head

He can't think anymore he is just overloaded with fear and thousands of decisions at once

The major thought that is in his head is

“Why did i do this? My life was great and my family is going to be disappointed and hurt too”

Sirens are going off outside, with some officer telling him what to do, and inside is chaos

He is holding a hostage and is getting trigger fingers

He knows there is no escape that their going to catch him and put him in prison for life

His head is pounding and he can't think

And the news will say failed attempted bank robbery with eight hostages

This pounding can't make him make a clear decision it's overpowering him

Why does it hurt so much as he asks and the world is turning around him

Too much noise, Too many thoughts, so little time

He knows that the police is coming around back to kill him or to injure him and lock him up forever

Too much noise, Too many thoughts, so little time

He fears he has made his final mistake, and knows what he must do

Bang

Silence, as the hostages are in tears as the man has committed suicide

Fear can be anything at all

A person

An object

An emotion

It can make you insane

And it can make you do drastic action

This is why

There is nothing to fear but fear itself

"Untitled" by Lauren M

      In today’s time, war and death have become so prominent that the mentality of “us versus them” is beginning to consume society as a whole. There are two types of people in this world; and they will always find a way to hate each other.

One of the most problematic issues in life is that we, as a human race, still look to establish differences within ourselves so that we may exist separately from others. Perhaps this is only done to satisfy our desperate attempts to sustain a type of identity that is so profound that we feel purposeful and “unique”. All around us, there exist social constructs that teach us to generalize the human race into two categories. Too many believe there to be a war between Muslims and Christians, failing to see how religion is too often abused as a war tactic than a type of untainted faith. People view abortion on two spectrums: pro-life v. pro-choice when in reality, there is an entire intermediate area that is so muddled it has lost relevance. Just by observing the words “pro-life” and “pro-choice” it is obvious how one group attempts to gain leverage by falling back on the fallacy that if you believe in “choice” you don’t believe in “life”, or vice versa. Democrats versus republicans until the world burns because how dare another political party rally a support that rivals the number one highest paid starters. Even racism is still prevalent and presents itself as one of the most infamous categories of all: black v. white that refuses to believe in the possibility of grey.

The fact that “everyone knows there are two types of people in the world” delineates how much we would rather assume a different identity from another group of people than realize that these misconstrued differences aren’t as conclusive as we make them out to be. People are afraid of admitting that they aren’t special or different; but what’s more so, is that society hasn’t realized that it’s excusable to not be so overwhelmingly different. We all have nuances and culture that personalize us and that should be enough to fulfill our “noble” goal of being an “individual”. So while we may strive to resolve the modern blights in society it is imperative that we recognize above all, that it is us, ourselves, that hinder society’s ability to achieve progress and a type of nondiscriminatory peace.

"That Day" by Jessica P

     Screaming, crying, phone calls, and fear filled the house at 3:47 AM. Drowsy and confused I lifted my head up from my pillow and dragged my sleepy self out my bedroom into the hallway where I see tears streaming down my mother’s face. Downstairs my grandma was rocking back and forth mumbling so many words but the only one’s I was able to understand was, “Oh God save him! Save him please!” I continued to walk down the hallway into my parents bedroom where my mom was now being held by my younger brother; both crying. I asked what was going on and the response was not what I wanted to hear. I could barely understand my mom through her sobbing. “Y-y-your dad, he w-was in a car accident on the freeway. He ki-ki-killed someone in the accident!” I heard no more. My mind blanked out and my body froze. Who died? How did this happen? Is my dad okay? How is he?! Tears started running down my face and I went to hug my mother and my brother. Everything was going on so fast I didn’t know what to do. I immediately ran back to my room and threw myself onto my bed and cried into my pillow. I prayed and prayed and cried out to God. Why did this happen? Why him? It was the beginning of Christmas break, a happy time. Well this year won’t be so happy. I wiped the tears off my face and just sat there. Stone cold and numb. It felt like I was there for hours, just sitting there. My mother came into my room and told me how my dad was on his way to work and he was in a car accident. She didn’t know how he was but there was someone dead. She was contacted and my father was being taken to the hospital and they were on their way to meet him. She and my brother went, I stayed. Something about events like these I can’t bear to interact with people, so I stayed and just started to think. I turned off my light and laid my head back on my pillow and explored my mind. I thought about my mother’s broken smile and my brother’s puffy red eyes. I thought about how the accident could have happened. I thought about that happy man, my father; what could have he done to deserve this. Most of all I thought about the night before, how when my dad got home at 7 PM from work. I didn’t even go downstairs to say hi or eat dinner with my family because I was too busy with homework. How could I have done that? What if my father didn’t make it and I never got the chance to sit down and have one last meal with him and tell him how much I love him. I cried and soon fell asleep. 9 AM came around and I felt a soft paw on my belly and a meow. My cat decided to walk over me and greet me to wake me up. I smiled and petted her but then that smile disappeared as I remember what had happened earlier. I grabbed my phone quickly to see if i had gotten updated on any news about my dad. I did. My mom sent a text saying, “Papi is in the hospital but he is okay and will be okay. If all goes good he should be home by tonight. Don’t worry. He loves you very much. See you soon.” “Oh thank God,” I thought. Chills ran through my body and still worry filled me. I forced myself to relax and go throughout my day and eventually my dad came home. My mom and my uncle helped my dad through the door and sat him down on the couch. He was silent and still and was like that for a few days. He struggled to eat and didn’t want any visitors. I couldn’t recognize him. He wasn’t that happy man I once knew. About a week in I felt completely disconnected from my dad. Everything I tried to do to be in contact with him was difficult and he wouldn’t talk much. One day he called me into his room which was odd at this point. I sat down next to him and he spoke to me for about two minutes but those two minutes were all that I needed to know that same dad I had last week was still there. He apologized for being so distant and so upset at himself. He explained that the woman that died in an accident was extremely hard to deal with even if it wasn't his fault. He blamed himself and can't cope with the pain. He told me he still loved me even if it looks like he can't love at all. Walking back to my room I realized some things needed to change in my life. I could have lost my father in that 3-car accident but I didn't and that happened for a reason. Family is important and should come first in so many ways. I know my life was busy but I’d choose family over anything else. We as humans are never promised another day to live. We walk about of our house expecting to come home that night but out there in the world we are each a tiny spect of the population. Hundreds of specs leave this earth each day due to tragic or natural events. If someone you loved dearly left this earth what would be your first thought? Would you have regrets? I would have extreme regrets if i had lost my dad that day. It’s a miracle I didn’t. So, before I didn’t have a strong bond with my family, and although these difficult events are hard to cope with, there are positives. I learned not to take family for granted and I learned to treat them as if I were never see them again.

"A Streetcar Named Graduation (and Other Concerns)" by Jairus P

When I was growing up, I never realized how many of my peers disliked Shakespeare. I mean, even today, I’m very much aware that there are many of you who dislike Shakespeare (notice how I use “dislike” and not “hate” because I have a profound respect for the Bard) and I’m also aware that you might dislike the fact that I’ve taken the initiative to write another piece for this blog, but come on – I get to write and have people comment on my pieces! But I digress – the point is that I like Shakespeare and I kind of learned two major things: 1. I love villains who have some complex that many are unwilling to understand because, in truth, we’re all kind of that villain sometimes, in that, we have that complexity some of our surroundings don’t wish to understand and 2. You can tell a comedic play from a tragic play by the plot ending with a profound wedding and not two hormonal teens who can only express their love for each other by killing themselves (In 2016, they would only express their love by subtweeting each other – killer!).

The thing is, Shakespeare seamlessly places his characters in situations that are a bit unbearable and even unrealistic before the two realize they really are meant for each other and – you guessed it – they get married! But we don’t realize what happens after they get married, we are only exposed to the overly dramatic events that happen before their union and frankly, I like it that way. I mean, I’d rather read a play about a man and a woman telling themselves that they hate each other, only to find one in the hands of the other, than them having kids and watching them play in the park every single day, like the scene you find on a watercolor painting in your dentist’s office. There’s not merit in that.

There is value in the journey before matrimony, though, and I’ve kind of learned to appreciate it, no matter how disagreeable that maybe. Wikipedia defines a “marriage” as a “ritual recognizing the legal contract between spouses that establishes rights and obligations between them.” When you actually sit down and think about it, you’re practically married to a variety of things in your life. For example, you’re married to your dream of becoming a [Insert occupation here]; you go through 12+ years of education and constant bickering from your parents, and with a bit of hard work and self-actualization, you become whatever you want to be.

Another example is graduation and getting out of high school. If you’re not getting the idea, think about a person named Graduation and you fall in love with him/her. You proceed to accomplishing every class you need to take and deal with every ignoramus you meet and just get by and before you know it, on graduation day, you marry Graduation with a gown and everything. I can’t break it down any further than that. You really want to marry Graduation, like you really want to get hitched and drive away from this school into the night and never come back – I get it. But like I said, it’s the journey that matters and I think that youngin’ like us should appreciate it more.

In my four years, I’ve learned that the only thing that’s helping me get by to graduate are the people I surround myself with. If you read my last piece waaaaay back in September, you’ll know I went through some self-cleansing and introspective thinking, realizing that the thing that really sustains you is yourself and your recognized growth. I’ve learned that the people you’re friends with now are your friends because it’s convenient. It’s convenient to know that you have someone to go to in a mutual locale and it’s convenient to be in a clique with a few people to feel superior to everyone else because you feel wanted. The truth of the matter is that the only people that help sustain you on the journey to marry your fiancée (Again, the beautiful/handsome Graduation) are the teachers you grow to love and that one best friend who makes you laugh so hard that you realize you two can do standup comedy. By “comedy,” I mean, the inside jokes you two have and little phrases that may not be funny to anyone else except you two, forcing you to go to Improv Ontario Mills and have one friend be on stage and the other in the crowd to laugh at your jokes (I know you smirked).

Yeah, you’re disillusioned and shrouded with this ardent intent to be with your high school friends forever – the “together forever” forever – but what happened to those middle school friends you would be with “together forever” forever? [Insert Raven Baxter “Mhm” tone here] It’s upsetting to know that when people realize this, it’s always too late. I also think it’s upsetting when people deny themselves of the fact that it’s going to happen: the catharsis of it all. You’re going to be sad and I can empathize with you because I know what it’s like, but, as I said before, it’s the journey that matters before the union and “it’s high time” (If you’re reading this Mrs. Arora, I’m stealing that phrase, as well as “Excellent” and “There’s always hope”) to become aware of the growth you have in your character.

I’d also like to add that one thing that highlights some parts of my life is disappointment. Disappointment in not getting a role, disappointment in not being in the relationship with the one person you thought you loved, disappointment in not getting the straight A’s you so rightfully deserve. It’s funny because we continually define ourselves by our disappointments. “Oh, because I didn’t get this role, I’m not a good enough actor.” “Oh, because this person didn’t love me back that means I’m unwanted forever and I should just sow myself a lover, as Frankenstein did.” “Oh, because I didn’t get an A in this AP Chemistry class, I’m automatically a failure, even though I am clearly a contender for the top 10% at this school.” (Let me just say that people like that annoy me; like if you want to brag about your grades, do it in a more fashionably subtle way)

I think we need to realize that we’re not defined by our disappointments or failures – we’re defined by our growth and what we choose to be. You accept this basic truth of disillusionment and convenience, you grow so much and you become more than that cliché character you see in the high school movies, the one who finds out his girlfriend is going to Stanford and just so happens to have a full ride scholarship to UC Berkeley (30.2 miles or so away from each other) so they can be “together forever” forever, even though we have not seen any academic achievement in the arc of his character in the past three films. Do I see the poster child for bad decisions or what? Come on! I loved High School Musical, but I can be cynical at times, get over it.

Anyway, that’s my little spiel. It’s a basic human truth that we grow and to deny yourself of that is kind of dumb. You might hate it like you hate Shakespeare (I just realized I put “hate” – dang flabbit, lexicon in my head), but I’d rather have you be content with this realization than divorce Graduation because you want to be with your high school friends “together forever” forever. It’s the journey and growth that matters before that marriage and you’re in your own Shakespeare piece. Again, get over it.

All the best,

Jairus

"Out, Damned Spot" by Jairus P

One of the many worldly traditions that has seemingly transcended time and space is the same day in which everyone has the open opportunity to dress as they like. You walk around and notice the myriad of guises a person wears to conceal an identity, all to get away from the lifestyle they’ve built for themselves, one day each year. The competitively intelligent girl hands in her books for that little black dress and pig tail braids to mimic Morticia’s daughter. The overtly post-adolescent idealist gives up his garb to mock a religious custom on his self-aggrandizing carriage dragged by a horse of lies, all on a pilgrimage to hide his vile intentions. The two lovers fashion a gimmick in the costumes they’ve created, only spelling out cultural appropriation. Ah, yes, Halloween has given each of us an opportunity to give up a lifestyle in exchange for another, a mask that can hide us from all kinds of evil. But at what cost?

            It’s safe to say that all teenagers dread the prospect of high school, but what many of us don’t know that it’s the playing ground of all kinds of costumes. We walk around and pass each other during passing period, intentionally ignoring the masks of the people we accidentally bump into or shove when the traffic rate becomes slower than your average Millennial. No tricks and no treats. Don’t believe me? We all do it and don’t think that you haven’t made one yourself.

            I, myself, change my masks during all parts of the day. One particular time in which I have to put on a guise is when I take notice of a person I always want to confront and let out this anger, this belligerent part of myself that I try to suppress every chance I get. I know in my bones that I want to throw my hurt at their face, that I want to show them the scars left on my heart. Every chance I see them, I have the constant proclivity to think that they need to repent for what they did to my aching soul and the only way, it seems, is to show them my bare self and the constantly healing cuts left on my skin. But, we’ve been molded to believe that confrontation is a mere synonymous term for indecency.

What society underestimates about me, though, is that I’m not afraid of indecency – no, no, no.  I’m afraid of breaking down in a pithy attempt to let go of myself, of this angst. It’s not worth it…It’s never worth it. That’s what we’re all thinking when we see that person, right? The one person that gets under your skin, the one that’s bewitched your mind to believe that they’re worth your time, even after they’ve hurt your soul. It’s never worth it to lose yourself to show someone the jarring effects that was birthed from the seeds of anger and hurt created by that one person…One damn person. So, what do we do to not exercise our First Amendment right? What do we do to compromise our freedom to say what we feel and want?

Disguises and costumes and masks, oh my!

If you still don’t believe me, look back on your high school career and tally the number of times you’ve had to walk onto campus with a front. That word has the exact same meaning as that clean and overly used word, façade, if you didn’t know. Whatever term you put on a “covering for all or part of the face to conceal one’s identity,” you must know at this point that all roads, all terms lead back to a mask.

Let’s see, for all you nonbelievers – take a look at the pictures with all your friends. You’ve seen them use the mask in action. Every time you know they’re going through some kind of tribulation, they still come to school with the intent to show everyone, especially their dear best friend (you in this situation) that they’re “alright” or just “having a bad day.” We all have those friends, that’s how it always starts: with a mask. We don’t really know who these people are until we’ve given them the courage to take off that mask, to give them trust and validation. And at the moment, at that very moment, it is when a friendship is truly conceived: when we openly decide to share the burdens of what lies beneath the mask and the price it takes to put one on. What better binds a friendship together than loyalty and truth?

But, that in itself is essentially a paradox. Who do we trust with all these masks? If you let that front down, will the other person do the same? Don’t oversynthesize and just think: who can we trust and who can we tell? Our society has left us in a cesspool of deceit, to constantly tell ourselves that we need to put a mask on, to hide what we feel and what we say. You probably won’t even put the one you’re wearing down to accept the fact that what you’re reading is true. The tough jock can’t show any sign of himself that is considered, at the least bit, feminine without being called “faggot.” The girl can’t go around with short shorts or a tank top in the heat of day without being called “slut” or even a woman who shows some accentuated muscle can’t go out without being called a “dyke.” Our society, which is comprised of all of us, all of you, has pushed our own kind to wear a mask…Has pushed you to wear a mask. Halloween doesn’t just come once a year – it is a constant holiday that has settled in our bones. Every day you wake up, you open your closet to find a collection of those masks you collect each and every year. In truth, we’re slowly normalizing this custom to only ignore the fact that the pound of flesh we must pay for this is a debt that no one can repay: our own humanity.

Yes, there is always that bit of good that is shown to the world, the source that comes with the old age adage “There is good in every person, everyone.” But that’s the thing with beauty – it’s a curse on the world that keeps us from seeing who the real monsters are and which of the innocent cower in true fear, one that knows our nightmares and instills our own Halloween each and every day of the year.

"The corrupt king" by Margaret M

He was falling his life flashing across his eyes as he was pushed from behind. He turned, the kind face of his friend distorted with malice.

He fell, memories of his life appearing to him.

He remembers as a child the only person he could trust was his friend, his dear dear friend. Everyone else was after his life for his father was the cruel ruler and he his only heir. The continuous betrayals he faced changed him, twisting him into his father.

He trusted no one.

Especially not his cruel father whom he hated. He recalled the poison he slipped into his father’s wine too easily and how quickly he was crowned to the depressed citizens tired of the previous king.

However,

He proved to be much much worse. Raising the taxes to an unlivable level, killing any suspected of treason with or with out proof, waging war, changing the laws for worse, and many more unspeakable acts.

He fell recalling the more recent memories of his, tears trailing behind him as he continued from the great height. He thought he could trust his friend after all he had been through, he should have noticed the unease his friend gave after killing off his younger sister who argued with him due to his treatment of their people.

He was betrayed by the last person he trusted in the world, but he could not be upset. Nor hold any grudge.

Instead he smiled reaching his hand to the sky as he made impact with the ground his crown flying off his head out reached arm falling to the side.

He reached towards the sky again looking at the tower his friend stood outside opening is mouth to address the crowed.

‘Thank you’ he whispered as his world fell dark and he met his peace at last.

“ THE CORRUPT KING IS DEAD REJOICE”

"That One Summer Night" by Merosa U

The summer night of July fourth I experienced one of the most embarrassing yet memorable nights of my life. My family hosted our family and friends on the fun Independence holiday. I had expected all of those who attended to come except for one. This happened to be our close family friend’s nephew T, who I had a huge crush on at the time. Although I was not prepared to see him I was definitely pleasantly surprised. I spent almost the entire gathering trying to find ways to “get him to myself” (just to talk and get to know him of course).

            I had several minor encounters with him that day, except I never got my chance to really talk to him. Night time soon creeped up on me and the day was slowly coming to an end. Most of our guest remained and everyone but the adults decided to play fugitive. The game of fugitive is great for large groups such as the one we had that night. When playing the game the players must choose some people depending on the amount, to be the “cops”, and the remaining players to be the “fugitives”. Then the group chooses a destination for the fugitives to attempt to get to without getting caught by the cops, the first fugitives to get there win. Due to the amount of people in our group we split up in pairs. My first thought was to make sure I was paired with T and I thankfully was able to make that happen.

            The game began and everyone dispersed, the destination we chose was a field on the local high school behind my neighborhood. T and I set off to our destination and I pretty much mentally lost the entire goal of the game. I honestly couldn’t have cared less if we won or not I was just glad I finally got to talk to him. While he was actually trying to win the game, I on the other hand was distracted by his presence and risked our chance of getting caught multiple times. We finally made it to the field safely and won the game. On our way back I finally got to talk to him with no distractions. The conversation was everything I hoped for and more. We reached the exit of the field which required us to climb over a fence. He hopped over first, effortlessly and offered to help me down. Assuming I was more athletic I declined his offer and decided to jump off myself. Which was probably the worst mistake I could have made, I completely failed! My shorts got caught on the top of the fence and ripped, not just a little tear, oh did I wish it was just a tear. The shorts completely ripped in half, so it pretty much became a skirt at that point. On top of that my cell phone flew and scattered on the ground. After my horrific fall T immediately came to my assistance completely unware of my split shorts and tried to help me up. Once I noticed he was totally unaware of my shorts I quickly turned his attention to my scattered cell phone and yelled at him to grab that instead. Unfortunately my yell came off slightly rude which was definitely unintentional. He put my phone back together and we made our way back to my house. I struggled to hold my shorts together, keep up with our conversation, and make sure he was slightly ahead of me so he wouldn’t see my embarrassing shorts. I felt like it was the longest walk of my entire life. I couldn’t enjoy the conversation and was too embarrassed to admit what had happened. We finally made it home and without a word I took off running into my house. I changed quickly but it was too late T left and I didn’t get to finish our conversation or say goodbye.

A couple of days later I saw him again and he asked me why I rushed in without saying good bye that night. He thought I was irritated with him and he couldn’t have been more wrong. I explained to him what happened including my feeling of total embarrassment. To my surprise, he explained that he actually found my incident really funny but cute and that I should have just told him. T and I are just friends now and reminisce on that night all the time. I learned that I’m horrible at communicating with boys and just to be honest in circumstances like this. Since then I avoid the game of fugitive as often as I can and definitely do not pair with anyone I’m attracted to.

"Untitled" by Kayla F

“Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you will be successful.” Albert Schweitzer the AP English teacher write on the board. The students walk in and take their seats and the late bell rings.

Teacher: Good afternoon. I need you guys to take out a piece of paper and a pen. Then read the following quote on the board and tell me what you think of this quote and what does it mean to you. When you are down turn your paper in the bin.

The students anxiously start writing expect for one student who looks slightly scared a numb feeling comes over her she does as her teacher says and begins to think,

What does it mean to be successful? What does it mean to be happy?  Does success only come from happiness or success has nothing to do with happiness? Are you only happy when you are successful or is happiness not affected by success? Are these just abstract ideas that we set our goals on just to make ourselves feel good or content with our actions? Do our actions mean anything? If we were successful in life would we be happy? If we were happy would we be successful? Does getting everything you ever wanted mean that you are happy? Does this mean that you are successful? Will I ever be completely happy? Will I ever be successful?  If I am not happy will I not be successful? What if I just want to be successful? What if I just want to be happy? I got it.

The student begins to write,

One day I want all my dreams to come true. I know that sounds like fairytale or something straight from a Disney movie but, I mean it.  In every Disney movie there is struggle in the beginning. The main character starts to doubt themselves however, somewhere deep down inside they find the will to keep going. They find a will so that they can be happy. We all are a main character in a Disney movie. We work hard and dedicated ourselves in order to reach the goal we have set forth. We make those goals because they will make us happy once they are achieved.  We all have to do what makes us happy in order to reach your goals and become successful in life.  You can only be successful once you are happy. If you had all the money in the world you would be considered by many successful but if you are not happy there is a void within your life. The only way to fill that emptiness is to find happiness in your life then and only then will you be successful.

The student turns in her paper. She leaves the class with the widest and most energetic smile on her face. She finally makes a decision about which college she wants to attend. She rejected Harvard and went to San Diego State because she knew that is where she would the happiest.

"Talk" by Elisabeth D

Where do I begin?

Man, I don’t even know.

Let’s see how this goes,

Sit back and enjoy the show.

Now this poem isn’t your typical stuff,

I don’t follow the definition of a sonnet and such,

I could bore you about the future and all that mush,

But believe me I don’t want to leave you crushed.

So what should I talk about?

School, work, family, and all that?

Well, school and work are exhausting without a doubt,

And my family’s… well they’re my family, let’s just leave it at that.

We could talk about the world,

And all that’s going on…

But talking about all that will leave your brain swirled,

And before you know it you’ll be gone.

Maybe talking about graduation might do.

But who really wants to “get emotional” right now?

Besides,

We have so much time too.

I’m pretty sure by this point you’re probably confused,

Wondering what point I’m exactly trying to make.

At the start of this poem I didn’t know either, I just kinda cruised.

I guess what I’m trying to say is… Talk.

I know, I know, what does she mean by talk?

She came up with every excuse in the book not to talk.

She didn’t even know what to talk about.

That’s just it, there’s so much to say without a doubt.

If I had to talk about any of these topics,

Believe me we’d be here forever.

But nobody has “time for that”,

So let me get it together.

Talking, no matter how good or annoying, is a gift,

Sounds cliché? Yeah, I know.

But come on be honest, sometimes you let it drift.

There is so much to talk about,

It’s pretty ridiculous.

So I find it very ironic when someone asks, “What do you want to talk about?”

And we all suddenly become clueless.