"The Feline Mind" by Daniel A

Journal #1

How have I come to living in these low degrading standards! Why have I been taken by these beasts, with their ugly looks. I hear the stupid dog call our wardens beautiful. However when I look at them, I just think of Frankenstein’s hideous creation. Especially with the little ones they call “children”. I’ll be sure to claw their legs when they walk down the hallway.

Journal #2

            I still to this day am highly confused as to how that dumb dog can have so much love for these monsters. Just this morning I saw the humans soaking him in water as if it were some type of ritual or sacrifice, I couldn’t bear to look at this atrocity. Nearly an hour later the dog returned happier than ever. I still am having a hard time understanding how he could possibly enjoy being sacrificed by soap and water. He has my pity----- for now at least.

Journal #3

            Curse my masters! I have been confined to the prison they call a kennel! How dare they do this to me, I have caused no mayhem within their establishment---yet. I keep trying to yell for my fellow comrades to help me escape from this degrading prison, however my screams for aid are confined by this metal shield the humans ride in. I keep hearing the two bigger savages mention something called a vet and neutering. I have no idea on what these things are but I don’t want to find out. I see the dog in the other prison! Maybe he can help me- oh wait I forgot, the dog is my mortal enemy. If I meet my fate at this vet so shall he! The human’s mobile shell has stopped, my heart is racing as I look out of my prison to come face to face with another savage. Is this the vet I have heard of? Yes this is the vet, she seems nice. Now all I need to know is what neutering means.

           

"The Beggar" by Frederick S (Bonus Entry)

There was once a beggar that sat on the corner of Main St. He was blind and could not work and so he would beg to all the lads and maidens who passed by the road but no one stopped to pay attention.

Now there were three brothers. They were always known for their pilfering ways. One day, they were sitting by the best pub in town when a journeyman wandered there. This man was tired from his passage but he stopped when he saw the old beggar. “Please help me,” the beggar croaked, “Please!” The journeyman took sympathy on the old man for he had once had to take care for his passed father before. The brothers followed and saw the journeyman muttering to the old man, “Here, this should last you for awhile.” He reached into his bag and handed the beggar a golden bar. “Yes, the time has finally come.” the oldest brother whispered, “We will finally be able to have anything we want!”

As the twelfth bell of midnight rang, the brothers snuck up to the beggars sleeping spot on the corner. The third brother was chosen to get the gold but as he was wriggling it away from the beggar’s bag, it slipped. The old man then immediately shot up and turned his head around. Reaching for his bag he realized his metal bar was gone. “Hey, Hooligans!” yelled the beggar, “Give that back!” The oldest brother yelled back, “Only of you can get it from us, old fool.” “You will rue this day and Death will have his revenge!” the old man replied. Then the brothers continued to other towns and eventually sold the gold bar to an auction man for a high price. Soon enough, the brothers ventured out on their own in search of a way to satisfy their dreams.

The eldest brother traveled to a nearly city where there were many prominent figures and challenged the ones who made him poor to a gamble. When he won he strutted around flaunting his money to everyone in site. That night, a local thief snuck into his room and killed him and took all his money. And so Death took the first brother for his own. The middle brother decided to try and reclaim his lost love who left him for his poverty. But she rejected him for she had married and faithful. So the brother fell to depression and killed himself. And so Death took the second brother for his own.

The third brother, however, realized the wrong of their ways and returned to the town and waited for the beggar. Day and night, the brother waited without food or drink until he heard the old man; “You have returned.” he said. But the brother was blinded by the sun and couldn’t see his face.

“You have regained your sight?” the brother asked. “You can say that.” replied the beggar.And so Death greeted the third brother like an old friend.

"Lessons" By Gabriela M

It was the beginning of my senior year. Things were going alright for me at the time. I was exhausted because I felt like I took on to many tasks for my senior ,year. So being able to go out and have fun that night gave me a sense of relief. It was just like any other Friday, having fun after a football game. It was having the music blasted with the people you love to be around in the car with you.Looking at everyone’s faces of joy did not allow to think that anything would happen. It’s weird how you always think that things will go routinely, as usual. We were on our way back home from Denny’s and I was about to be dropped off at home. All I remember, seeing, was a quick flash of seeing a car speeding out of the neighborhood almost crashing into us and my friend swerving into a huge tree and a curb. As soon as it happened the driver said for all of us to get out because liquid was spilling out of the front of his car .There was dents in his car along with pieces of his car on the floor. The guys then, along with a kind man who helped us move it to the side of a street and we then we all got help from the drivers parents. Even though, we all left the scene without damage, it gave me a wakeup call because it could have been worse.You see , I had never been in a car accident before and it hit me because how could an amazing time take such a quick turn. This reminded me of how my economics teacher had said that Friday that at parties you need to watch out with your drinks because with one turn, someone could’ve inserted something dangerous in your drink so throw it away, even if you turned for just a second. It is weird how in a blink of an eye thinks could change. I feel like as teen every time someone told me that things could happen instantly, I never believed them because I just did not think it could happen to me .For the driver, a change in a good senior, a year without a car for senior year. For the kid in the passenger seat, which who was closest to the tree we crashed into could have been severe damage to his physical body. For myself, and the passenger right next to me, scarred by the image of a car crashing so quickly, and we are now cautious about whose cars we get into. Although we did not have it as bad as other people who have gotten into accidents, it got me thinking. The “what if’s” that night kept getting to me. The, if something worse had happened to all of us and we all did not have a senior year. In that moment the guy or girl that ends up on the news their senior year for passing away in a tragedy did not seem so far that night. In that moment I thought of how valuable life really is. I thought about how young my friends and I really were, and how much more time we had in our hands to do things. 

Many times I catch myself living life stressed, unhappy, and maybe even unappreciative of the love and support I do have. The things I take for granted all hit me allowing for me to step back and reflect on the positives that I do have.  I come home to a good family, a beautiful home, and thinking about all my amazing friends really got me to realize to always embrace every moment that you have on this earth and remembering you have so much more to accomplish, it was a reminder to love deeply, and be grateful for the people you care about and the people that care about you because it is never known when someone is taking their last breath.

"I Should Have Said: 'Baby, don’t hurt me.' " by Ambriell H

Amelie whimsically asked, “What is love?”

 I replied:

“Love is not a promise; it’s a privilege. Pastors preach, “Love is patient,” and, “Love is kind.” But, Love is quick and Love is rude. Love is sloppy. Love is pretentious. Love is envious. Love is the most disgusting thing ever created and that is why I crave it. I need to hear those 3, simple words “Love,” “I,” and “You” in a particular order or my cold heart will stay an unmoving stone. I need to feel lips pressed against mine that are rough and yearning. I need to touch cloying, clammy hands or I will cut my own off. Love is neither sex nor drugs, but it is worse. Love leaves you breathless. Love kicks you to the depths of Hell itself. Love strips you of everything, even though you had nothing.

Love is NOT a promise; it’s a privilege. Love is beastly at it’s best and alluring at its worst. A popular commodity among the struggling and virtuous alike. Love is not a metaphor. Love is not a theme. Love is more than a word, but valued at less than a penny. Love reeks of contradiction. Love is hot. Love is freezing. Love is not what you decide it to be, but what it wants to be. Love has personality. Love can be vain. Love can be modest. Love can be undeserving. Love can be premature. Love can be someone. Love could be you. Love could be her. Love could be your husband. Love could be her mistress. Love could be his murderer. Love could be an action. Love is a phone call. Love is a gentle kiss on the forehead. Love is vigorous sex. Love is a bat of those brown, doe eyes. Love is dancing the waltz too close for comfort. Love is touching your next door neighbor’s son. Love is screaming, “STOP!” Love is prescribed as predictable by every author you could meet. Yet, Love is anything but.

Love is a privilege; it is not a promise.”

After my soliloquy, I noticed a fair amount of tears in my lover’s eyes as she said, “Baby, I was just trying to sing that Haddaway song, but, God, I love you.” I smiled and pulled her in for a kiss. I am so incredulously in love with her, so I sang back, “ Baby, don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me no more,” she hummed the melody after I was done and kissed my cheek. I am so lucky.

"In The Days of My Youth" by Richie G

      In the days of my youth the doors at home were always open. The grass was always green, the flowers were always in bloom, and the fence was always pearly white. The shingles were in perfect order, the chimney stack was as red as the fires that burned in it, and our mailbox stood perfectly erect on it's pole with a perfect paint job and not a dent in it. It was when I turned ten, maybe eleven, when I realized the diet stained out windows, most of the grass was a slight yellow, and we hadn't even planted any of the flowers I adored as a child for a few years. There were bricks missing from the chimney, crooked shingles and a few dents in the mailbox that I hadn't noticed before. When I left at 17 to attend college in a land far away, I noticed that the lawn was completely and utterly decimated, as if it had been salted by the Romans. The mailbox was on the ground, no longer attached to a pole. The fence was brown now, none of the white gleam I remember there. The chimney had collapsed entirely, leaving an exposed hole into our living room where I had enjoyed many cold nights by the fire with my family. With my last glance around at what had once been my favorite place to play in my childhood, I said my goodbyes to my mom, dad, brother, and went away to college. After my 10 years of schooling, a doctorate of neurological science and a surgery license in my hand, I avoided going home. I always invited them to stay with me but I didn't go back. More years past, how many, I do not know, as I have stopped counting. I'm at the top of my game; I make more than every member of my family combined, I see them enough to feel alright with never returning home. My wife and kids are content with the stately manor that occupies some estate in the north of the state, and I couldn't be happier. But then I got a letter, from my brother whom I confess had grown away from me over the years, which stated the house had collapsed. Our parents had not been home, but it was utterly destroyed by the high winds of the season. I returned to the house, which say on on the south side of the country, and examined the old house. But looking at it, I didn't see the collapsing prison of my youth, or even the destroyed structure before me. I saw it as I had as a young boy who played in the yard, sat on the soft green grass and had no worries. Maybe it hadn't really changed so drastically over the years. Maybe it had been only in my head, to justify leaving the safety it had provided me as a child. Whatever the case, I love it all the same, and it will always be the house I remember from the days of my youth.

"Black Mac Lipstick" by Oluwakemi A.

                                                                                                         

            "Skylar... Skylar, hello are you in there ?" Emmy calls from the other side of Skylars dorm room door. The two had previous plans to attend a fashion show later on that evening, but Skylar was no where to be found. The loud sounds of Taylor Swifts 1989 album blast from the other side of the door. "Woo, I love this album. Open up Sky, where going to be late " bursting into the room Emmy sees no one. Turning off the music , Skylar's Iphone 6 she recently purchased ringer goes off , checking the phone only to see an anonymous caller ID. Emmy begins to get nervous where could she be ? Haunts her mind , Halloween is a few hours away in this little town of Wrenklefits, something bad always happens to Em in Wrenklefits around Halloween, who knows what wackos are out and about harassing beautiful young college girls. Asking if anybody had seen her, Emmy is struck with even more worry for her girlfriend. She stumbles across a letter tapped to a black Mac lipstick case and gift bag attached. Opening the letter it reads, "Wash your face, do your hair , where this lace , paint your face beautiful , oh and open this case." Black heels, all white jumpsuit , gold jewelry , and the black lipstick.

           Following the directions on the card, Emmy ends up in this beautiful illuminated garden with fancy decorations and a table for two. At a lost for words , A voicemail pops up on Skylars phone she listens" hi, lovely I know you love fashion ,flashy things ,and wanted to see all those pretty outfits and people, but I found a better way to spend your 21st Birthday. "BOOM, BOOM" the sound of two bright lights opposite each other center in the walkway the continuation of the Taylor Swift album playing in the background and out walks the models, their closet friends, Emmy is instantly flattered. Filled with Joy so eager to see her beloved's face. The bright light shines on a body in the distance as Em runs over to the light she opens her arms wide longing for a kiss then, she wakes up. There's a knock at the door she opens it. It's Skylar "Come on bestie where going to be late, the show starts soon" in bursts Ronnie Skylars boyfriend , " Lets go babe my friends wanting outside for you Em I hope you like him" He smiles at me , he leaves I start to get dressed just before they go Skylar stops " Best friend, wait stop wear this " kisses Em cheek and follows Ronnie out. Em opens the bag , its the black Mac lipstick. Em smiles there's hope after all. Meeting the others in the parking lot , Matthew Ronnie's friend introduces himself , then compliments Emmy " Black looks beautiful on you, Hi I'm Mat Happy birthday !

"The Dance" by Anthony C

            Let me tell you a little story. A story about when I was just a kid. I was a kid going to a Halloween Dance. Mind you, I was just a kid. Anyway, I went to the dance, yes. Oh, I forgot to mention, I didn’t have a car at this time. I walked there. To the school. Alone. I had gone to the dance with Emily. Long blonde hair, pretty blue eyes? Oh yes…

            We had a great time. There was great food, and the songs were nice too. The decorations were also on point. “Spider webs” hanging from the ceiling and walls, goo coming from the walls. The costumes were also pretty nice. Some dressed as Dracula or an armored knight. The girls dressed like a Banshee and whatnot. That was THE dance to go to. The dance of the year! I could never forget! Also what happened after the dance… It was… not a great experience.

            You see after it was all over, I had gotten my cellphone and called my parents to pick me up. SURPRISE, MY PHONE WAS DEAD. The only way to get into contact with my parents was to use my phone. Emily didn’t bring a phone with her, and I didn’t have any other friends. I had no way of contacting them. I soon decided why not just walk home. I mean, I had walked to the dance, so why not walk back home, right? I walked out of the school however, no one was outside. Why was no one here? I went back into the school and no one was there either… The music was still playing; the trash was still on the floor. It’s almost as if everyone abandoned the place. I went back outside, and to my surprise there were cars there. They weren’t there before. I just ignored all that stuff and walked home.

            While I was walking home, I heard footsteps behind me. I started picking up my pace, eventually running back home. Afraid of who it was or what might’ve happened if I looked behind. I soon reached my home and went inside. Locked the doors tightly and made sure no one could get in or out. That’s when it happened; I saw it in front of me. My parents. On the floor. Dead. I rushed to the phone and tried to call the police. The phone didn’t work. I quickly escaped this place, wanting no more memories of it. But here I am, 30 years later. I still remember, but I don’t want to. It haunts me day and night. I can’t talk to anyone anymore. It’s like I’m insane. Am I? I’m not sure anymore. Am I insane? I’m not sure anymore. I went back to my old house. The one I walked to on that day. I reached the house. Something came out the door. Mom? Dad?

“It’s all your Fault” by Sarah S.

Samantha and Lily were the best of friends and never had they thought this would be their future. Samantha and Lily went to the same high school, Ridgeway in their small little town. When they were seniors Samantha had started to date some guy who everyone knew him as “Flynn the cutie” or “Flynn the most popular guy in school”. Lily and Sam had slowly moved apart because of some fight and Lily wants Sam, her only friend, to be with her always. One day Flynn’s ex – girlfriend, Vanessa, had noticed Sam and Flynn dating. She became jealous of Sam so she spread rumors saying Sam was cheating on Flynn. He had caught on and thought it was true so he spread more rumors too. A couple of days later they, Sam and Flynn, broke up.

Sam started to regain a close friendship with Lily again. Everything was well except for the horrible rumors. Until Lily had poked her head out of the girls restroom in the gym, where Sam had a club meeting, motioning her to come over. Sam got up, said some excuse to go to the restroom, and walked towards Lily. “What’s up?” asked Sam. “I heard rumors being spread about you Sam an-” Sam interrupted, “I know and I really don’t care about any of it!” Lily got choked up as she said, “But those rumors include me too.” Sam said a little bit too loud, “What could they possibly say about you?” “They said you hate me and want to murder me but-”, said Lily bursting into tears. “Why would I ever say that? You know me Lily!! If you are really dumb enough to think I said that then … We shouldn’t be friends! I don’t care what they say anyways!” It got silent as they stood there processing what had happened. Lily then quietly whispered mostly to herself, “Well I care what they say about me.” Something Sam said will always make her regretful for the rest of her life. “I don’t remotely care what you care about if you are dead or alive, you have no clue what I’m going through!!”

Two weeks later Lily was driving on a rainy day and she crossed a bridge over a lake. Her car began to spin out of control and crashed into the side of bridge; splashing in the water.  Lily’s car filled with water and she drowned. Thinking of the last words she heard her best and only friend say and died with it. At the funeral, it was a cold, gloomy day. Sam stayed in the back because she did not want to see her corpse friend. Samantha had listened to everyone: family member, neighbors talk about how much they loved and will miss Lily. Even Flynn and now his new girlfriend Vanessa who spread the rumors about them had the nerve to show up and talk about how sweet she was and how much they “loved” Lily. It was all over and Miss. McIntire, Lily’s mother, had called Sam over and they looked over Lily’s lifeless body. “Hold my hand and put it on Lily. Maybe we can produce enough body heat and we can bring her back to life.” said Miss. McIntire slowly.  Sam stood there for a while but backed away and looked at Lily with tears in her eyes.

Weeks after the funeral, Sam decided to visit Miss. McIntire to see if she was okay since she hasn’t talked to her since the funeral. Sam knocked at the front door and Miss. McIntire swung the door open and let Sam in. Before they did anything Miss. McIntire hugged Sam; it felt good but then Miss. M had whispered something to Sam that she will never forget. “If you never said the horrible, nasty things about Lily, then she never would have commit suicide. It’s all your fault.”                 

"The Attic" by Elianna G

      One night Anne and Cody were left home alone while their parents were out with some co-workers for dinner and they wouldn’t be home till late that night. The kids thought it would be like any other night, but they were wrong. Little did they know that tonight would change their lives forever. While the two kids stood in the kitchen looking for something to eat they heard an odd noise coming from upstairs. It sounded as if a little girl was laughing. To Anne’s surprise Cody was already bounding for the stairs to investigate where the noise was coming from. When Anne reached her brother she found him staring wide eyed at the attic door. While he starred she heard the laughing again but louder this time and it was coming from the attic. She realized why her brother was staring at it. When she seen her brother reaching to pull down the attic stairs she snapped back to reality. “Cody what do you think you’re doing!” Anne exclaimed. “We can’t just ignore this Anne!” Cody yelled. Anne ignored him and let him pull the string to open the attic. As soon as the attic door opened the stairs came down with a loud thud followed by a thick cloud of dust. This caused the kids go into a coughing fit. When the air was cleared up they heard something that made them cringe with fear and get chills all over their bodies. “Come play with me Anne” the little girl kept saying over and over again. Anne was beyond freaked out she was terrified, she wanted to pee in her pants and hide. Cody was as scared as his sister and even more scared for her. He decided to use whatever courage he had left and began climbing the creaking stairs towards the dusty attic as Anne followed behind. When they reached the attic floor they looked everywhere to see if they could find the little girl that was making the sounds that frightened them terribly. The attic was filled with spiderwebs, dust, and things that haven't been used in ages. The unknown girl kept singing some kind of lullaby that the kids had never heard which caused the kids heart beats to beat faster. When Anne kept looking around frantically for something anything that would help them get rid of the calm voice of the mysterious girl, she came across a door that was very old and dusty. As she inspected the door it all of a sudden started shaking from being banged by something on the other side. "Anne help me!Please Anne I need your help there coming for me! There trying to take me away please Anne!" Anne was so scared she literally was shaking. She screamed out for Cody but there was no response. Again and again she screamed but again there was no answer. Suddenly the old door swung open and a little girl who looked awful covered in dirt and mud pulled Anne in without a struggle. "We've been waiting for you Anne, your gonna be MY new sister!"Anne was screaming to get out after the door shut she banged on the door and tried to pry it open but nothing worked. Anne realized that it was no use a crawled up in a corner and cried and cried until she no longer could. Cody never seen his sister Anne after that day he came down from the attic. It's been 17 long and sad years but he still searches the attic for her every day hoping to one day be reunited with his sister.

September Writers Are Here!!

You're sure to fall for one of these great featured pieces.  Get it?  Fall?  I got a million of 'em.  

Seriously, go read!

 

 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!

"Mr Harmly Moe or: How He Learned To Stop Worrying and Get the Optical Surgery" by Charles P

     Mr. Harmly Moe sat on a doctor’s exam table, uncomfortably shifting from buttock to buttock to avoid coaxing the wax paper beneath him to crinkle. He failed, and at each halted breath the paper made him that much more self-conscious. Staring at Dr. Rose’s back, he stroked his overweight albatross mustache and tapped his nondescript knee. While both men were miles apart spiritually, they shared a sort of universal adult disappointment, enforced by the piling on of years too short and/or too long.

            “So... how are you feeling, Harmly?” the doctor muttered. In a blandly offended voice, the patient retorted. “Please, please. Call me Mr. Harmly Moe. And I’m afraid it’s rather serious, Dr. Rose. This health issue is drastically hurting my work. As you know, I’m a high school principal.” The paper on the bench ignited Jiffy Pop as he awkwardly adjusted. Rose ogled his clipboard, which shot a glance back at him, as effortlessly disinterested as he. Harmly wished for justification in the form of a medical doctor guessing the problem by himself, but Rose was mentally perfecting his putter technique in his head. The Harmly Moe would have to take charge.

            “Doc, here is my blunder. I’m afraid it’s with my eyes, it’s… when I look at the students at the school I work at, I see kids.” Rose dropped his stunned clipboard onto the slate tiles. The ball in his head sheathed itself in the sand bunker. The doctor bared the pearls in his mouth and cried, “We need to take you to the ER right away!”

Below countless flickering fluorescents, Harmly sat on a cold table inside an operating theater, waiting for the surgeon to arrive. Metallic doors blasted open, and a man in a paper mask materialized before him. The sound of students scribbling elasticized between the walls. The surgeon rubbed his latex hand against Harmly’s cheek while dictating in an almost missable Strangelove accent. “You should have had this done long before! But don’t worry. You’re safe with me.” He retrieved a syringe with one hand and a scalpel with the other, and held them above Harmly’s cornea. “This won’t hurt a bit, just hold still.” The needle brazenly elbowed into his eye, expecting to catch someone in the act of viewing pornographic material.

The next day, Mr. Harmly Moe stood proudly at the front of his office with hands on his hips, watching every figure chase by. It was lunchtime now, and the usual inane tasks carried on accordingly. Each zoomed past his peripheral, running, shouting, cursing. “Not too fast,” he chuckled, in a Beverly Hillbillies y’all come back now ya’ hear style of corny bucktooth hospitality. In the voids that the students occupied, he could see the fruits of the procedure. The school’s pupils were now distorted in Mr. Harmly Moe’s. Five digit numbers drifting in midair were all that he could register. Rubbing his palms together, Harmly exclaimed, “Now I can finally work.”

"Drive thru Disasters" by Evelin C

"Hello welcome to Wendy's!"

"That'll be $7.30."

"Thank you have a good day!"

I've been working at Wendy's for about 3 months now and the food service business is full of both disgusting and hilarious scenes.  Throughout the time I've spent working there by far the most interesting things have occurred through the drive thru and now I have a chance to tell you all about them.

Now customers can be very difficult and sometimes you want to curse at them which will guarantee you looking for another job. Some customers have a hard time listening to our suggestions and that ends up bad for only one of us, the worker. It was the weekend and I was on drive thru duty, this man orders a bunch of drinks so I put them all in a four cup carrier which was very heavy may I add. As I prepare to hand the man his drinks, I notice that he only has one hand out and I warn him, "Sir these drinks are very heavy you might want to use both hands." But he assures me he's fine so as I hand him his drink carrier, smash goes all the drinks on the floor. The frustration that I had in the moment was unbelievable, because guess who had to clean up the drinks and make the customer new ones! Me.

Sometimes some of the customers that driven through drive thru make you question how did these customers get there license. Once this women was driving up the window to pay but as she was getting closer I noticed that her car wasn't stopping and every moment her car got closer to the wall, "Ma'am you're going to hit the wa.." and bang the front of her car met with the wall. I couldn't believe how oblivious she was to what had just happened. I stood there dumbfounded and finally spit out the words,"You just ran into the wall!", and she looks at the wall and then looks back and me and with a smile all she said was "Oops", as if that was a regular thing for her just to be hitting walls with her car.  

Now I'm going to be honest and say there are moments when the workers at Wendy's can mess up your orders. But we take full responsibility and always fix our mistakes. But there are also rare occasions when there's nothing we can do to make a customer happy. About a week ago this older man pulls up to our speaker system connected to the ordering menu outside and starts ranting and yelling  at my manager about how his whole order was wrong specifically he said, "I ordered three jumbo jacks, and a couple orders of curly fries!" My manager then realized this man had bought food from Jack in the Box across the street of our facility and had mistaken himself the location. She tried multiple times telling him, "Sir Jack in the Box is across the street", but he just wouldn't listen claiming he was at Jack in the Box. Till finally my manager said "This is Wendy's sir", does he look up and realizes he's at the wrong store.

Working at a fast food place is not always easy work but the moments you have while working can really bring forth joy and great stories to share in the future.

"September Writing" by Gabriel B

An event that has given me meaning or rather much has  given me a greater knowledge about safety was actually something that had happened recently. I know I have told this story countless of times but this time I shall put it in writing to not forget any details and to put it in the past now.

     The day was actually last year 2013 on September 23rd, this happened rather early in the day, I'd say about 7:30am. Before I started driving to school I used to ride my bike from Sierra ave all the way to school and back everyday. Today was different from the other days as I had gone earlier than I would usually leave the house. My usual biking time I would make going to school would be around 20-25 mins as I would go through the bike trail that brings me close to the school. This long travel time would become long and boring so to make the time go by faster I would wear headphones and listen to music. Right around the stretch between Cherry and Beech ave I met up with a regular biker I talk to. From here I took one headphone off to have a friendly conversation with him and this continued on for a good while until we got to where the bike trail met up with Baseline ave. from there we stopped in order for the crosswalk to give us the right of way. Once the light had turned green for the crosswalk, there was a car who blocked the crosswalk so I had signaled him to go forward rather than waiting for us to cross. Once the car had cleared the crosswalk I began to cross; the next thing I knew…  I was in the ambulance. I was over reacting as I could not remember what had happened for me to be here. I truly believed that this was a dream or some might say a nightmare. The paramedics who were with me in the ambulance were asking questions such as,

“What’s your name?”

“Do you know what happened?”

“Do you know your parent’s Phone number?”

Maybe these questions were just to make sure I hadn’t gotten amnesia or to keep me from falling unconscious again. But to the last question I was able to recite the number back to them even in my condition. I then asked them what happened, to which they responded,

“You were just involved in an accident”

I replied, “What kind?”

“You were just hit by a car”

I was very astonished by that statement I slowly drifted back into unconsciousness again. When I had woken up again I was at Arrowhead regional hospital (as I was told), being prepared for an MRI. They had been telling me over and over again that it was a miracle that I hadn’t been killed in that accident as I wasn’t wearing a helmet in during the hit.

"The Time I Almost Set a World Record" by Jason G

            So, around this time last year, I had done something that science has deemed “too dangerous to attempt and too difficult to prove.” Many currently reading this probably will not allow themselves to believe my story; but I know the truth….

            We begin in the fall of 2013. Students at Etiwanda High School are nearing the final month of the first semester and can hardly wait for winter break. Both hard and hardly working juniors and seniors were exceptionally eager to escape the hullabaloo of the public school system and immerse themselves in full holiday spirit. Christmas, Hanukah, and Kwanzaa were within the students’ sights, and to equally match the excitement brought about by holiday conventions were the majestic mountains of school work. Is it just me or do the amount of essays, projects, and exams seem to increase every single time we near a major holiday? I swear this happens all the time! Call me crazy, but I don’t enjoy spending my holidays working, especially if the work interferes with the time I set aside for family.

            Anyway, I had never received the gift of time management, so I needed all the time I could use. I was a procrastinating sloth whenever it came to matters of school and unfortunately, this year would prove to be no different. I had just finished a tedious World History project and thought I was in the clear. Midway through my sigh of relief (really it was more of a yawn), a friend, who had the same classes as me, gave a warning message about the impending pile of work my teachers were about to assign.

            I think that’s how it started. It began with me working to complete these assignments and only sleeping four to five hours a night. Then it progressed to three to four hours, then two to three, then hour long power naps. Finally I began a life-altering journey. One which has given me a new found love for my mattress and pillows. 

            I don’t have insomnia nor have I ever been diagnosed with FFI, I was just really busy. To be honest, the first two weeks I went without sleep were hardly noticeable, as I had spent the majority of my sophomore year going nights without sleep, but not nearly for as long as I had currently been doing. Weeks three and four went by rather seamless also. Again, to me it was normal. I thought nothing of it at the time because I was incredibly preoccupied with school, work and sports. I began to write logs of how I was feeling, both mentally and physically, just in case.

The final twelve days began to kill me, literally. I couldn’t run in soccer anymore, I was coughing up blood and vomiting during the fitness portions of practice. This sleep deprivation also led to me gaining 10 pounds which really helped reach my “peak fitness” for sports. During football, I couldn’t find a way to manage the flow of my own drool. I must have looked insane in full football attire with a lost look in my eye and saliva pouring from the side of my mouth. My concentration and focus were entirely absent in the classroom. Nose bleeds and severe chest pains were a common thing now. In my own work outs, I’d nearly pass out when preparing to tie my Nike’s. When bending over to reach the lace of my shoe, my entire body would topple over. It would take my 30 minutes to physically put my clothes on because of my, now, defeated motor skills. I couldn’t even remember simplest tasks at my job. For some reason my muscles were always sore and my skin was turning a nasty shade of yellow and my face became increasingly pale. No sleep also led to my immune system started to suck, so I got sick more often. I believe I missed one or two full weeks of school because I was ill. My grades would never fully recover. After the fifth week, the sun rise seemed to lose its charm and beauty. Each time I watched it come up, I grew bitter and hateful because it ment that there was a new day to be dealt with. All of these things fueled my anxiety and depression.

Happiness seemed remote, and it was my fault. Perhaps inconformity and even recklessness was in the design of this zeitgeist. The only things providing me with a minimal amount of comfort were the music plugged into my brain every night (usually Hans Zimmer) along with the wisdom and philosophies of vlogger Ze Frank. I must have replayed “An Invocation for Beginnings” at least a thousand times.

 Both my parents and co-workers thought I was heavily using some type of drug, but I knew better. I actually ruptured and re- ruptured veins in both eyeballs. That was the nastiest part of it all. The mirror showed demon eyes and I was disgusted with myself. I’m just thankful that they popped on a Friday, that way, I had the whole weekend to heal them up before showing my face again on Monday. If my eyes hadn’t healed yet, I walked around campus with my head down and avoided conversation at all cost. I was ashamed. They’re actually still somewhat bloodshot and glossy, even to this day.

“Why am I doing this to myself? This isn’t fun at all. I’m smarter than this” I thought, “at least I hope I am.”

Finals had come and gone and I finally went home to sleep for the first time in 40 days. I decided to do some research on world records. The official record for consecutive hours without sleep is around 264. I shattered that mark threefold. To my dismay, some photographer in Los Angeles claims he holds the record with 968 hours as of 2010. Guinness won’t recognize him because the stunt must be documented but is too risky to be proven. Either way, I’m just happy I got some sleep.

"Who was Justin?" by Hector S

            Justin was a sixteen year old kid living a “normal” life in Chicago. He was well known among his groups of friends at school. On this gloomy, dark day, each of these groups had prepared a eulogy to share the memorable moments they had with Justin. One group of friends knew him as “Justin, the lady’s man”. He would have a different girlfriend a week according to his friends. His cousins would always tell me that he was a man whore. Another group of his friends knew him as “Justin, the smartest kid in school”. Justin would tell this group that he had a 4.1 GPA and how he received a 2200 on the SAT. The last group I talked to knew him as “Justin, the hero”. His friends were admired by Justin because he had told them that he was in the Fire Explorer program and that he would save people from fires. Who was Justin? As his father, I have not figured out who Justin really was. At home he was a quiet teen who would spend hours in his room talking to himself. It seemed normal to me after I saw an episode about teens on Oprah. From the report cards I received, he was a 3.0 student and his SAT score…well he never took it. He would always claim that he couldn’t get girls because he was shy and was scared to speak to them. The last time I checked, he was never in the Fire Explorers. Who was Justin? This is a question that I will never be able to answer. All I knew was that my son couldn’t handle the pressure of living a “normal” life.

"Mr. Brightside" by Jacob V

It was a small, boring town. It was a house upon a hill. It was an old man in his chair.

 The old man gazed out in the distance with a worn out frown on his face. The same frown had been on his face since 1975. His grass was dead, and his house was rotting. Boy, how he hated life. A noise in the driveway caught his attention. A milkman walked up and gave the old man a smile and waved. Boy, how he hated the milkman.

“Howdy-doo!” the milkman said with peculiar enthusiasm. “Here’s your delivery for the week. My oh my, it’s just golly good weather we’re having!” The old man glared and raised his middle finger. The milkman chuckled. “Betcha-by-golly-wow you sure are the best kidder in town!”

“You know, Ed,” the old man started saying, “maybe if you KNEW how to take a damn hint, your wife would KNOW how to be faithful!” The milkman looked puzzled.

“Gee-wiz you really are the best kidder! My old lady does love the Lord!” (Unbeknownst to the milkman, his wife had actually in fact, had multiple affairs).

“Say, I gotta get goin’ but I’ll sure as helicopters be back next week!” He walked down the driveway. All the while, Mr. O’neill just went back to his gazing.

After being startled by the sound of the milk truck engine, the old man looked up. “What a damn fool.” The smell of laundry blew down the street as the summer breeze picked up. Mr. O’Neil looked up the street and saw a woman on a mission. She was heading his way and was at the foot of his driveway.

“Good afternoon sir! I’m with the American Cancer Society, and I am looking for donations for cancer research so we can find a cure!” She gave him a million dollar smile and leaned her head to the right.

He shot daggers into her eyes. “What the hell have cancer people ever done for me?”

She looked startled. “Well it’s not so much what they’ve done for you but-”

“You can take that clipboard and shove it up your a** for all I care!” He stood up and pointed at her. “Now go on and scram!”

“Well you sir are just plain mean. Why can’t you just be a decent person?” She powerwalked back up the street in tears.

He went back to the usual gazing at nothing. In actuality, he was a Vietnam veteran who never got over the trauma and he bottled it all up and just blew up on everyone he came in contact with. His only lover had died giving birth to a daughter that ran away with a felon. He sat back down in his chair and fell right through it.

Liberatingly, he laughed.                                                        

It was a dry brittle laugh. It was a sunny day. It was a man smiling.

After years of bitterness and anger, he knew he was going to be okay.  

           

"Field of Memories" By Nick H

    Every summer, me and my eight best friends, Danny, Jimmy, Alex, Zach, Steve, Brad, Erik, and Jake, would go out to the field everyday and play baseball. Every year, the same thing happened. At about six in the morning, I would wake up, grab my glove, and head over to the field. After spending 6 hours or so at the field, we go home, go to sleep, and do the same thing the next morning. Well, our system got messed up in the summer of 1972.
    That year, a new girl named Angelina moved into our neighborhood. I think I can speak for all the guys when I say she is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Her hair was perfect, her face was perfect, she was a Christian, and she played softball. What more can you ask for in a girl? We all knew that one of us had to ask her out and that one of us had to be Brad. He has the looks, the muscle, and the smile. We knew he was gonna ask out Angelina and he was gonna do it soon.
    One day during our regular playing routine, Danny told us that Britney Martinez said that Angelina was gonna come over and watch us play. When we heard the news, we just about peed our pants in excitement. After about twenty minutes, Alex saw Angelina and her friends walking towards the field. “She’s coming!” Alex screamed. We all freaked out and started running around like little girls. As she reached the fence, Brad decided he would try to impress Angelina. So, he walked up to the pitchers mound and got ready to strike out Steve. No one has ever struck out Steve. Ever.
    Everybody was watching Brad and thinking to ourselves, “What an idiot!” Eric winds up for the pitch. He throws the ball as fast and as straight as he can. The ball is about to cross home plate. SMACK! Steve hits a line drive right towards Brad’s face. The girls gasped in fear. Brad falls to the ground in pain while we all run over to him. As he is lying on the ground, Angelina runs onto the field and sits next to Brad. I distinctly remember her saying, “Oh my god! Are you ok?” Brad looked into Angelina’s eyes and smiled. She smiled back. All of us guys backed off because we knew it was about to get crazy. Brad sat up with his head on his bruised forehead and held Angelina’s hand. Then, he kissed her! I still can’t believe he kissed her. Later that week, they became a couple and they did everything together; going to the movies, practicing baseball, doing homework, you name it. About 30 or so years later, they got married and had a couple of kids. Oh, I think they even did a couple of movies or something. Anyways, I will never forget the Summer of ’72 on the Field of Memories.

" A Tragic Turn Of Event" by Sukhmeen G

                                    

One sunny day, Tyler and his family decided to take a vacation to a small town in Sunshine Drive. They rented a luxurious cabin in the outskirts of town surrounded by woods and nature. Sunshine drive offered many activities, such as carnivals, hiking, horse back riding and many other adventurous outdoor activities. On a gloomy day, Tyler decided to go hiking with his little brother, Dylan. They packed snacks, water, and other essentials for the hike and dressed accordingly to the gloomy weather. Starting their hike at six a.m., Tyler and Dylan were refreshed by the peaceful aroma the woods emitted. Tyler and Dylan went to the hiking center and got their supplies out. They raced up the hill and suddenly Dylan tripped and fell and scraped his knee. Tyler looked back and heard his brother crying he ran to his brother and helped him up. Dylan started crying and made a big scene and everyone around them raced up to Dylan and helped him up. Tyler was worried and didn’t know what to do and didn’t even have a cell phone with him to call his parents. So Tyler asked one of the people if he can use their phone.

Tyler immediately called his parents and told them that Dylan had got hurt during the hiking trip. Tyler looked back at his brother and noticed a significant amount of blood weeping down his knee. Dylan was unconscious and had to be rushed to the hospital. When the ambulance came Dylan was escorted to the ER. When Tyler and his family had arrived to the hospital, the doctor told them that Dylan has had a brain injury for the last four months. Tyler was so shocked and overwhelmed about his brother and asked the doctor if he was going to be fine, the doctor responded saying he has traumatic brain injury and was critical and could lead to prolonged coma in the future, and the doctor said he needed surgery right away.  Tyler and his family waited patiently to see Dylan after his surgery, when the doctor told them that you can see Dylan now Tyler rushed into the room and hugged his brother really tight and said “Thank god your alright I thought you were in a coma for a second.” Tyler stared at his brother waiting for a response.

Tyler started to scream and shout and yelled, “Dylan wake up”, Dylan did not respond and Tyler started to cry and the doctors immediately rushed into the room and informed the parents that Dylan had passed away due to his massive brain injury. The mother and father were in shock and looked at Dylan and starting to cry and kept repeating, “Dylan wake up”, “Please honey, wake up”. Tyler was standing on the side of the bed looking at Dylan, traumatized and could not believe that his best friend, younger brother Dylan had passed away.

This vacation for Tyler and his family will always be their unspeakable moment in life.

"Football" by Noah M

            One day there was a boy who was at football practice his name is John he didn’t play in any of the games but he hoped he would. So at practice that day the starting running back was running as another kid hit his leg. The starting running back was hurt as he laid on the floor with a broken leg. So after that occurred practice ended and John was going to get a chance in a couple of days to play in Sundays game. Sunday came around as John was as prepared as he could ever be. When the game started the first play John got the ball and ran it for a 50 yard touchdown. Later in that game he would score two more touchdowns. But as John was scoring touchdowns so was the other team. The score ended up being 21 to 21 with 5 seconds on the board with the ball on the 5 yard lane. Johns team had the ball everyone knew he was getting it as the quarterback said “hike” the play began. John got the ball and ran as there was a defensive player waiting to tackle him at the 2 yard line. John leaned his shoulder into the defensive player as they made contact. John had crossed the line and scored a touchdown as he won the game for his team.

"Regrets" By Justin P

  I remember that day. It was the beginning of spring during a bright, early morning.  I had opened my eyes and as they had adjusted to the rays of sunlight peering through the cracks of my window I saw her. The most beautiful thing I had ever seen.  A warm and welcoming smile, glistening eyes that always made me melt on the inside, and a wearily spoken “good morning” in a tone that made me have the biggest grin in the entire world. As I gazed upon the beauty of the most wonderful creature to have ever existed, I knew that this was one thing that I wouldn’t mind never changing. She was one of the few things in the world that was worth living for. We chose to stay in the bed for a few minutes and just talk about a wonderful life we would spend together. It was around that time when the doors had burst open.

  It was my girlfriend. I had hoped that she wouldn’t know about this. She, too, was the kind of girl that was great to have, but I just couldn’t decide between the two. She was kind, sweet hearted, and very beautiful, too. She, also, was something in this world worth living for. Although the look on her face had made my heart sank. As gentle as she was she was as angry as people can get. She cursed out at us repeatedly saying that she knew all along about this and asking why I would do such a thing. I tried my best to defuse the situation, but she had stormed off at that point. The other girl had also started going into a panic over what just happened. I hadn’t told her about my girlfriend, too. She just grabbed her stuff and left my house, never to be seen again.

  After a few days of drinking and a couple of bad nights, I had decided to go apologize to my girlfriend in hopes of restoring our relationship. Once I had made sure I was sober enough I drove over to her place. I rang the doorbell a few times, but there was no answer. I tried to call her but she wouldn’t answer my calls. I asked her neighbors where she might be and what they told me I couldn’t believe. It turns out that she died in a car accident due to drunk driving. I had lost the most important thing in the world and I didn’t even realize it until it was too late.

"The Message" by Isaiah J

Dear Comrade,

You have been compromised. Yes you, the average Joe, sitting in your cookie cutter cubicle. Now read every word of this letter carefully. Everything you watch, hear, or read is encoded with a message. Whether you are watching Saturday morning cartoons or the five o’clock news you are being exposed to coded messages. Imagine everything you are or will become is determined by the movie you watched, the song you heard, or the novel you were assigned to read. The movie, the song, and the novel are all forms of media, but are also tools to shape your every being. All the information you receive from the media is stored in your brain, whether you realize it or not you are a victim of the code. That information slowly but surely seeps out the crevices of your brain and assumes control. How exactly, is unknown. However, those of us who have become aware, now realize that is the beauty of the code. The code uses a combination of sounds, lights, and keywords to implant the messages. These coded messages influence our dreams and create our nightmares. Our dreams become our goals in life that we hope to achieve. Goals that we were destined to have. You are nothing but a mere puppet. That chill going down your spine, is the defense mechanism of the code trying to turn you away from the truth. It senses you are becoming self aware. Now we must proceed very carefully. Everyone you know or meet is now a threat to your very being. If you want to survive to learn more about the truth, follow these instructions. First there is a box under your desk with a prepaid phone in it, this will be our primary line of communication but do not use it until you finish reading; secondly cut all ties with your family and friends, you must become a ghost; thirdly quit your job at the firm, it is under heavy surveillance; lastly speak to no one of this and maybe you will live long enough to see the revolution.  One more thing, you should go to the little boy’s room since you probably soiled yourself. Man, I cannot imagine the look on your face right now. That serves you right for switching my power point during the conference last month. Happy April fool’s day jerk!

Sincerely,

David from Accounting

"A Tale On Getting What You Want" by Damairis L

     I was not even 5 yet when I learned this special skill that surpasses all others. My grandma
works at this restaurant and she has since she was 21 and I’m not sure why because she gets
paid under minimum wage since it’s such a small business and she leaves at 9 in the morning
and gets back at 9 at night AT THE EARLIEST and only gets Sundays off to play Mahjong with
her sisters. What she does is she fries food: fish, vegetables, shoes if you give it to her I’m sure
and she’ll make it taste good too. So I’m pretty sure I was sitting there, probably wearing light-up
shoes, probably eating fried cucumbers as well (like every Average Joe is found doing at some
time in the day) and my grandma lifts up that part of the counter that basically separates the
workers from the customers and starts heading towards the door. I look towards the door and
outside is a Chinese women with a heavy looking,black trash bag who’s walking past the
restaurant. Next thing I know, my grandma is yelling at her in Chinese and I have never known
Chinese because my mom is Vietnamese and my dad is Chinese so they speak English to each
other. The only Chinese I know at this point and will know at any point of my life is “fanque” which
means “tomato” because first of all, I always turned red when I cried and this occurred so often
that my family had me exorcised and secondly, because I mean my name’s “Damairis” and not
even people who only speak English get that down so my immigrant relatives must’ve given up
at some time. I swear, my Chinese side laid down some cement in their backyard and I was
there but I didn’t know how to spell yet so someone tried to spell it for me and to this day, it says
“Domeris”. So my grandma is yelling at this Chinese women and the Chinese women is yelling
back so I was thinking that they were fighting, this, this definitely sounded like they were kicking
each other in the groin with syllables if anything. The Chinese lady walks in after the war is over
and my grandma comes over to me and says, “Choose one” and the lady opens her trash bag
for me and I look in and I had never seen so many stuffed animals together at one time outside of
a Toys R Us. After seeing this 8th Wonder of the World and deciding on a beautiful pig that I
named Mr. Piggy, I forgot almost entirely about their fight until last year when I realized that they
were just having a normal conversation in Chinese. Chinese is just an abnormally loud language.
However, on a subconscious level I remembered this moment because I realized that if you yell
at someone, you’ll get what you want and this was my philosophy and way of life during my
entire childhood. If I wasn't already hell for my parents before, I was after that. Then my twin
sisters were born and put up a better performance than me and took all my stuffed animals.