"Divergent Love" by Deja H

Divergent Love

For I will love you forever and always

Into the deeps of love we shall soar

In vein I searched for love in every hallway

All walls of insecurities came crashing, finally happiness ive never felt before

Every sentimental moment we encountered

You amplify every soft spoken aspiration with a kiss

Every embracing hug, I put my feelings on the counter

Inseparable we are for I will never flag a dismiss

As I reminisce on our inaugural cuddling           

Every battle we fight we became a dynamic dual

The way we fell in love was beautifully puzzling

Engaging open hearted sharpened my confidence like an edge tool

Together we give each other endorsement for I am thankful

But be careful my love without god our love will grow feverishly hasteful

"Outdated II" by Austin R

Datalog 000000002;

      When I awoke today, I was in a white room. In the center of the room stood a single table with a chair on either side. Everything was painted a stark white color. I lifted my head and gazed at the walls. There were no windows or doors to this room.

     I realized quite excitedly that I had moved. I looked down with a bright anticipation and was greeted with the sight of a large sleek body. I lifted my arms with great enthusiasm and examined my hands. They were alien to me. I looked down even further, contorting my body to do so, and saw two small, oddlyshaped appendages. These I knew were feet, though I could not recognise them as such. They were made of thick white plastic and had a thin layer of translucent rubber underneath them. I sat on the floor to further investigate these odd things and was met with some slight disappointment at the discovery that I did not have toes.

      I heard a gentle creak and some quiet footsteps to one side of the room. I rapidly redirected my gaze at this new development. A man walked into the room through an opening in the wall and sat down in at the table. I stood and ran to the wall, but was unable to examine closer before the door closed without a trace. Meanwhile, the man had placed a large folder on the table. I looked back at him and he gestured toward the opposite chair. I sat in it. The man addressed me with a long number: 562951413MRR. I assume this was my name.

     He proceeded to talk to me in a soft, monotone voice and gave me a specific set of rules which I was to follow under any circumstances:
1. You may not directly harm any human through action or inaction.
2. You are to do everything in your power to increase the overall happiness of all the people you are exposed to.
3. You are to protect yourself from harm, without violating the other two rules.

He then inserted a small black rectangle into the base of my forehead. The resulting rush was euphoric; a flood of knowledge entered my mind at an alarming rate. All the works of recorded history entered my conscious mind, and within a few minutes I had the entire wealth of human knowledge at my disposal. Shakespeare, Poe, Dickinson, Chekhov, Miyamoto, Spielberg, and so many more. I had begun to delve into the more basic poems when the man stood and walked beside me. I pulled up a poem of intriguing origin while he reached behind my head and —

"Like Him" by Grace P

 First Grade 
     “MOM! Look what I drew! My teacher said I have an artistic mind.” I said with confidence. Without even a small glance, she replied, “That’s great, but have you seen your brother’s drawings? You should learn from him.” She was right he was the artistic one.

Sixth Grade 
     “MOM! Guess who got student of the month?” I said with my head held high. “OH, your brother got Student of the Month? That's great!” she said with enthusiasm. She looked at me and added, “You should follow what your brother is doing, maybe you’ll get it one day.” She left before I could respond, but I just shrugged it off. She was right, he’s the good student.

Freshman year
     “MOM! Report Cards came in! I got a 4.0 GPA!” I said with great excitement. With a slight look of disappointment, she stated, “Good. Your brother’s been getting C’s, but I can see his drive. You should imitate that and be more like him.” She was right, he’s a hard worker.

Senior Year 
     I sit frozen in shock. Hospitals are colder than I would have thought. My brother is lying in bed in a coma. Overdosed and in a bad condition. I can’t shake the feeling of envy, to be able to stay there and have so many worry about you. Three days later I’m dressed in all black. To lighten the mood I tell my Mom, “I was accepted into Harvard.” She turns to me and says, “Your brother would have gone a lot farther.” At this point, I understood what my mother wanted me to do. So, I slowly stood up and left.

The Next Day
      I walked into my brother’s old room. Sometimes, I feel like he’s still here with us. I look around and find his stash. Before I do anything further, I write a short note. I lay on my brothers bed and just take it all in. Then it’s all black.

“Be more like him,” just like you told me to.

"What Love Should Look Like: A Short Story " by Chloë M

The Girl cradled the hills of his shoulders in her cupped hands, pushed away from his body, the top of her head pushed against his chest- breathing barely, chapped lips, what did he say?

The Boy pressed two fingers below her chin –oh that cleft chin, baby I’ve never been an ass man but- “I’m sorry. Maybe it was too soon to tell you.”

The Girl lifted up her head, shaking it slowly. “No, I want you to say that again. Please. I swear I misheard you.”

The Boy looked at her, burning with naïve understanding that there would never be another person who made him feel in shades of ink like she did. “I love you. I have never loved like I love you. You are not the first, but you are the last. I love you . When we kiss I taste the words “I’m sorry” a hundred times before I ever hear a selfish sentence, tattooed onto your tongue like a punk song. I love you. You are soft and murderous. Your vocabulary is too ridiculous for me to keep up. Girl, I love you.”

The Girl looked at him with anxiety and a vigor unparalleled- she practically shook with autonomy.

“Here are the things you need to understand before you decide that you do love me. Boy, I am a collection of faults, sewed together with stupid, stupid words. I know that you hate coffee but I love it. Something about me needs to be caffeinated to sing. My scars are more dotted than constellations and sometimes I shake so much in the mornings that I call my mother and wake her up just to remember that I have a beginning in someone. I fall a lot, in love, on concrete, into walls- Life looks better when I tumble. I fall in love with the messy bits, the in-betweens, I am a constantly edited storybook. I feel everything and anything, I am a wreck, a damn wreck.”

The Girl ran her nails against the edge of her teeth with panic. Every little thing she knew about love was-

“Messy and thirsty.”

“What?” She looked up.

“I can tell what you’re thinking love. You wear your thoughts on your face like a cactus wears sun in the summer. It is painful, but resilient. You love messily and thirstily, with blood bitten lips and screams, and that is okay. I could say your words a thousand times louder, but they will never silence a room like you can. You are every kind of perfection I need. We will be okay. I love you. Please say-“

“I love you. My atoms have always loved your atoms--know that.”

"20 Things I learned In High School" by Sophie R

1. High School is the time to try new things- A new hobby or hairstyle It won't really matter in four years.
2. I hate math with a passion. - For the past four years math has been my biggest obstacle in school. Countless hours of studying and tutoring and I still struggled. I've tried to love it, but you can't force love.
3. You'll end up with a few close friends- I started high school with a million friends. As the years passed, some stayed and some didn't and some came into the picture along the way.
4. Ask for help- Asking for help doesn't mean make you less of a person. Don't continue to suffer and struggle when there are plenty of people around you who can help.
5. It's okay to be alone sometimes- My freshman year I couldn't even stand walking alone to class. Now I'm able to sit on a bench by myself, studying or doing homework, and not caring if people are thinking that I'm a loner.
6. Monday's actually don't suck.- Everyday you're alive and well should be cherished. I look at Monday's as the day my dad has work off and can actually take me to school, pick me up, and since he doesn't cook I can have whatever my heart desires for dinner.
7. "Life only gets harder, but you have to get stronger" - High School prepared me for how to deal with difficult situations and difficult people.
8. You're gonna cry in public. -It's fine. Nobody cares. Just cry.
9. Change is going to happen- You're going to change your mind so many times. Everybody is going to change their mind so many times. You're going to make friends and lose friends. You're going to like one thing one day and hate it the next.
10. There's no such thing as bad or wrong timing- Time is the most accurate thing and God, destiny, fate, or whatever you believe in is the most precise planner. And one day you'll look back and say," So this is why that couldn't happen."
11. Take the once in a lifetime opportunities- My junior year of high school I was able to go to Europe with three of my closest friends and the experience was something I'll always remember and look back on.
12. Everyone is going through something- I know it's been said a million times, but sometimes when something is not being made aware we forget about the things that someone else could be going through.
13.  Forgive. But don't always apologize.- Forgive. Not for them, but for yourself. But that does not always mean you should apologize. Sometimes it's okay not to be the bigger person and just apologize to get rid of a problem. Demand the respect you know you deserve.
14. Best memories are the ones you won't feel the need to take a picture of and share with the world.- Put the camera down for once. If it's really a great memory you'll remember it forever.
15. You'll meet a million bad guys, and one great guy- All it takes is one great guy to change your whole perspective on love and even life.
16. Love can take many forms- Love isn't always between two people who are "in love". As I went through high school love became something between friendships,family, and also relationships.
17. It's okay to be lost- Some people find who they are in high school and others it takes them a little longer.
18. Getting involved in something really makes high school a better experience- I was in yearbook for my last two years of high school. I learned so many new things that I know will follow me throughout my life. I also made so many new friends and I was able to talk to so many people throughout the school.
19. Someone will change your life- Or maybe a few people will change your life. I became a teacher assistant for the special needs children class. Every day is a new experience and something new to be learned. I had never been close to someone who had special needs. The kids I became close with are some of the most unique, happiest, and loving people I have ever met.
20. It goes by so fast- Right before I started high school I was constantly being told that I needed to cherish every moment. I never believed them but I'm less than a month away from graduating and I still remember my first day of freshman year.

"The Unknown" by Rickie E

Tear trails remain on her face as the sun peeping through her window slowly awakens her. He went missing yesterday at around eight pm last night after saying he was going to the store. It has now been about 12 hours, without a trace of his whereabouts. She remains in her dark desolate room afraid to bear the giant vast empty home alone. His name was Joshua Brown; a young accountant who she realized right away was very ambitious. He would spend countless hours on his work, double checking everything for accuracy. They recently married and planned to start a family but now he was gone without a trace and she was suddenly stripped of her security. The next morning relatives and friends set out to post missing signs with Joshua's picture wishing for the best and hoping somebody would come forward with information. As weeks went on detectives received no leads to further the case until one blistering hot April day. They discovered Joshua's vehicle driven into a ditch and lighten on fire with an unidentifiable body inside. Within the car they discovered Joshua's belongings and from the evidence provided they assumed the body was he. When she heard the news she couldn't believe it, she didn't believe it. She knew he wouldn't leave her in the darkness, blind and suddenly alone more than ever before. After hearing this news she waited for word from the coroner anxiously for confirmation whether the body was indeed Joshua. Days dragged on as she struggled to get out of bed and take care of herself. Until the day the news reached her, the body discovered wasn't Joshua's. From that day on the investigation turned to something even more bizarre and even she became a potential suspect.

"Adventures" by Imalla R

      I tried my boat off and started to climb the cliffs. I knew that no one had lived to tell what was at the top, but I still climbed. Slowly I was approaching the edge of the cliff while rocks were falling apart towards me. My nerves were getting the best of me but I knew I must get to the super magical pagical water. The super magical pagical water is thought to have special powers to heal the sick, give walking ability to those who can’t, seeing ability to the blind,and new ears to the deaf. Nobody for over 500,000 years has ever been able to rechrieve the water or even survive coming back. I was halfway up. I tried my best to not look down or i would fall from the nerves of being scared of being so high and still have so much to go. Still knowing that it would be bad for me, I looked and I slipped. There was no more reliable rocks. I was literally holding on for my life through only two rocks , one for my right hand and one for my left foot. I panicked and decided to head back down or I would die. As I was going down I slipped again. This time though, the mountain began to create an opening and it revealed a mysterious dark cave. Out of curiosity I walked on in. Once I walked in a door of rocks closed behind me. I noticed I was surrounded by a beautiful layout of crystal, gems, diamonds, and probably whatever other beautiful rock that exists. Suddenly one of the most gorgeous thing i have ever seen, turned into the scariest. The cave was getting darker and darker. Terrifying noises were echoing and made it so much harder to make out where the sound was coming from.The noises sounded like long sharp nails scratching a chalkboard mixed with a hissing sound that rattlesnakes make. What was the noise coming from ? Is it a type of creature? Am i gonna die? It seemed like there was no where to go so I just lied down on the ground. I hoped to fall asleep so i can get away from the ugly creepy noises but who could sleep in a horrible setting. Instead i just dramatically waited to die on the floor. Out of nowhere something carried me and started flying. It was definatly something furry and tiny. But how can something tiny be flying me, a 96 pound girl, to who knows where. I thought i died already and an angel was taking me up to heaven. Sadly I soon found out it was a strong little bunny carrying me to its home. The bunny was a very nice bunny named Gerald. Apparently the “scary noises” came from him and his bunny family. They were kind enough to get me some of the super magical pagical water. I immediately drank some of the water. The water made me tired so I went to sleep. I woke up to the sound of my moms voice and was brought back to reality , except now I could see , walk , and hear. Was it a miracle or was the “dream” real?

"Pink" by Marycristy G

            I stare at the taunting bedroom wall. It seems to be speaking to me in a foreign tongue, but that’s just life running on the little fumes it has left. I knew what was to happen today, and I refused to sit around and wait for nothingness. I mustered the strength and walked up to Miss Jackson and asked for paint, secretly she had pitied me under that cold hard shell of a person so she had obliged and gave me as much paint as I could carry.

            I shut the door with all the might I could muster and bolt it shut, and swiftly fell to the floor. I shook off the dizziness, stood up and squeezed the contents of the paint bottles onto the floor. I had begun to paint the little memories that I had left.

Yellow

Five years old- Me in the most irritating dress of my life, with my family… my mother and                            father…. I was happy for once in my life.

I wish I could be happy.

Orange

Six years old- Now that I am in first grade I can’t actually learn things. I like learning it makes me happy kind of how mommy gets happy when she sees me.

Green

Seven years old- I had become one of the smartest kids in the second grade. Suddenly my friends had begun to treat me different. I felt like an alien. I think mom and dad were sad that I was alone. I think… I am not sure anymore…I can’t remember anymore.

Blue

Eight years old- my parents…died? I… don’t remember this. How could this had happened.

            I wiped the angered tears that had escaped, and that’s it I’ve broken. It won. IT WON… and I can’t do anything. I am worthless. All I bring is pain towards myself, and nothing ever goes right. I sat, overwhelmed with tears rushing down my stained cheeks. I can’t go on, I want this to end. I was now longer filled with pity for myself but filled with anger, disgust, hatred, fury, and rage. With fury raging throughout frail body, I continued.

Grey

Nine years old- I now live in an orphanage and I don’t have any friends… that I am sure of, no one would be friends with me.

I don’t even want to know myself either.

Black

Ten years old- I don’t know, I honestly don’t know I can’t remember anything.

 I AM WORTHLESS

            Tears are angrily streaking down my face. How useless am I, that I can’t even remember a recent memory. I slather the color that I see as happiness, as hope, the cheerfulness that keeps people convinced that I am happy.

Pink

Pink strides across the sides of the painting, almost masking the truth.

My eyes see what is left of my life, my only memories.

Only now are my eyes stuck with tears of joy, with a grin spread across my face.

I lay across the room examining my life, and for once I can see the soothing black that covers my iris.

Goodbye.

Patient: Lacie Jones

Age: 11 years of age`

Time of death: August 16, 2010 5:38 P.M.

Cause of death: cancer; glioblastoma. A malignant tumor in the brain

"My Life as a Child" by Andrew L

            As I grew up in West Covina I witnessed many bad things. One night as I was hanging out with my dad outside he heard gunshots. He picked me up and ran inside. That next morning my dad found out some lady got shot and died. My dad knew at that time we lived in a bad part of Covina. Every night my dad laid there waiting for someone to try to hurt my family. My dad did everything he could for my family. As I grew up on that street one day we heard gunshots and called 911 I didn’t pay attention until the end when I saw around 50 people on the curve arrested. I learned that family is everything and stupid things land you in jail. My life in that house was amazing we rode bikes to the park had picnics. Everyone would get on whatever they are riding and we would go to eat, park, and sometimes we would even ride to the mall. One day we went to the skate park and my brother went to drop in and he fell and broke his arm and leg. They rushed him to the hospital and he came home with two casts. Another thing we would do to keep us entertained we would climb on the roof. One day we went on the roof without telling my parents when they weren’t home and I actually fell off and scrapped my shin. Other things we would do are ride my jeep around the house and the backyard. We knew everyone on the block after those people got arrested from that one pink house. Over the summer I would ride my jeep to these peoples house and play with their grandchildren. My older brothers and sister would go across the street to hang out with the older kids and they would go swimming in their pool and bar-b-q. The little boy and I were about 4 years old and we would go back and forth to each other’s houses and would ride around each other’s yard and play with our little toys. 

One day I found out my friend moved away with his parents and that was my only friend on the block, then I found out I was having a little brother and I was so happy. As years went on I would hang out with older people like my brothers and sister, then my little brother was old enough to play with me. He took over all my toys but I would still fight with him because I would tell him they were my toys and tease him. One time I made him cry and he got so mad threw his toy at me and told. My mom took all my toys away and put me on timeout for 10 minutes. A couple weeks later my parents started arguing and they got divorced and we moved with my grandma. Me and my little brother had to wake up at 3 o’clock every morning for my mom to drop us off at my brothers babysitter. One morning we were on our way to the babysitters and my brother was talking to my mom and she turned around and looked at him and pulled the e brake. The whole car turned around and we were facing oncoming traffic. That morning I thought my life was over.

"My Aspiration" by Joey R

“There is always that one band that comes along when you are 14 or 15 years old that manages to hit you in just the right way and changes your whole perception of things.” Alex Turner, vocalist and guitarist of Arctic Monkeys

      Music is one of the most important aspects of my life. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a bassist, vocalist, and a songwriter. I may not be that great at it yet, I still do what I can with it, and I just one day want to be able to perform and compose my own music. This is just something I am passionate to do in life. My interest in music started in middle school. I was a fan of bands such as Green Day, My Chemical Romance, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Arctic Monkeys, and more. At first, music was just something in life I let wash over me, then I started connecting it to my life. The became less of a mixture of sounds and became an entire world. As a teenager, times started getting stressful adapting to the idea of growing up and fitting in and trying to find the things that made me who I am. As I connected music to these events, I started thinking, “Hey, these lyrics are really from the heart and there’s so much to music that I still don’t know yet. Perhaps I can do the same thing one day and learn and experience the raw emotion from these songs.” So I started analyzing the music, and looking at the meaning behind the music and listening for the vocals and instruments in depth. There is an absolute myriad of feelings that are conveyed in the music, whether the song is emotional, political, rebellious, or anything. There is some sort of emotion being conveyed. 

     For example, the song “In The Garage” is something I can connect to because I spend more time making music, practicing with my bandmate, playing video games, and living in my garage more than anything. The lyrics, “In the garage, I feel safe. No one cares about my ways. In the garage, where I belong. No one hears me sing this song. In the garage, I feel safe. No one laughs about my ways.” connect to me so much. I spend so much of my time in my garage just trying to get an escape from life. I may think I’m a dweeb or a loser or something just for the things I do, but it’s what makes me happy, because I’m in a safe place. Music in itself is a safe place. The reason why I aspire to do something in music is because I just want to live in my own world and perform the symphony of the inner workings of my head. Songwriting my life is difficult because putting emotions and events down onto paper is something I am just not completely used to, but it’s something really beautiful to see when just one sentence becomes a whole song. Even when playing bass, when I’m covering some songs or playing my own riffs, I feel the pureness of the pureness of sounds like it’s some sort of religion I have fully devoted myself to. And here I am saying it’s hard for me to put my emotions onto paper but I’m contradicting that statement by doing exactly that with absolute ease. Over the short months, I’ve met people who have supported me in my musical adventure, and it is the most respected I have felt to hear from people who like my writings. To conclude because I simply have no other words or I just simply don’t want to be long winded, music is the thing I am going to do in life, and if I’m not doing this stuff in 10 years, pay me a friendly reminder to pick myself up and continue chasing this dream.

"Amnesia" by Dominic T

Week 7 day 4: My name is Thomas Mason I am 25 years old I woke up 4 days ago at 7:53 AM with a headache and a sore back but I had realized something. I noticed I had not been in my apartment I am in my old room i had as a child in my parents house. Before I decided to go downstairs to find my parents and ask how I got there I saw this leather journal sitting on my night stand with a note that had told me to read the entries and I would  understand. As I began reading 6 long summaries of the last 6 weeks worth of entries able to confirm my handwriting, as I finish I’m left in shock. I had spent 2 hours reading and rereading every word I could not believe it. In the middle of my frantic reading my door had slowly opened and my parents were standing in the doorway looking at me. My mother's eyes were swollen swollen and red from crying, I could tell she was resisting to let anymore tears show. They had confirmed everything… they had explained the car accident I was in ”It was a dark night and it was raining hard... you were going home from a late night shift from work the truck… the truck hadn’t see the stop sign at the intersection you were passing… you were in the hospital with serious head trauma for 2 weeks, you were in a coma for half the time the doctors did what they could and when you finally woke up the you had no idea where you or how you got there.." her voice broke as her lower lip began to quiver. I sat on my bed stunned in shock with disbelief. My father then explained that my condition was more than just the loss of my memory of the last few months prior to the accident but now I can not remember anything that  happens after, roughly, five days and my memory resets. My parents did their best to explain what happened in the last 7 weeks since the accident. They said I will still be sore for a few more weeks the headaches will come and go and to just rest. Slowly explaining to me I stayed with the night before my memory reset this week because we knew the cycle for my amnesia would repeat soon and did not want me driving. As they  started explaining more about what has happened since the accident the more I could not believe it me and my girlfriend Janet had gotten married a week after I got out of the hospital and that after the shortened honeymoon just last week Janet and I told my parents that she is pregnant. Finding this all out was insane and hard for me to believe I'm somewhat excited to know I am having a child. However as I thought more and more about it the news only depressed me I will never get get to share or cherish the memories I have with with my child and wife the thought of my child growing up with a father who would not always know that he is a father or even husband to Janet. Today I even went with Janet to see the ultrasound to see my baby it was incredible... With everything that had happened this week I had a lot to accept in only a few days because now that 4 days have passed I won't remember anything by tomorrow. But no matter what happens even if I wont remember any of this my wife, my child, or the accident. Though it is a frightening at first it will be a blessing to wake to a family of my own as a surprised every 5 days that the cycle of my amnesia repeats.


   
"A

“Apocalypse” by Quinlan K

Outside the house, everything is ruined, destroyed, and in pieces. It’s a shame humans have to go through this kind of environment every day. This nightmare of a world that people used to call earth is nothing but, a brown ball of hellish galore where people have to fight every day for their food, water, and shelter. As the lives of innocent beings decay and die off, more food is left to store for the blizzard winter ahead.

Shards of glass are left form the last pathetic attempt to steal more food from the storage supply. Many people have been shot down just for stealing a crumb of bread. Human on human violence truly is the most tragic of cruelties. As the sun rises, a new day is forged, which means more food will be given out to peasants and middle class residents. People punch and kick one another just to get a slice of bread. In my opinion, I think its insane people should have to go through this every time they want eat. The peasants do the most harm, in killing more people than there was food to eat. Next, they bring out the water and I can already imagine how much blood there will be in this brawl. 

Every time I go to sleep, I dream of everything being normal again, before this whole religious war. Religion or not, in this world its “survival of the fittest” if you’re not fit you can consider yourself dead or even worse “spiritual sacrifice”. I hope and pray one day that maybe I can make it through this and see myself grow into a successful, young man. Although, do too many harmful chemicals being released into the atmosphere the only jobs available are factory worker and miner.

When I walk outside I feel myself becoming sicker by the hour, like I won’t make it to the next food raid. I wonder what people will think of me when I die. Will they have the same personality or will they go into a deep depression? Sometimes I wonder why humans feel such emotions, it doesn’t help us to survive longer, so why do feel sadness and grief? Do animals feel this way and if so than why? If I am doomed to spend my life on this forsaken planet it will have to be given a proper that suits its description and environment. A place that provides sorrow and a tiny glimmer of hope. I think I will call this world “purgatory”.

"The life of an Athlete" by Adrian

Every athlete has a story to tell about their journey toward greatness, but that story doesn’t always start off easy. Adrian Jones is a newly transferred student athlete now attending Etiwanda High School. Coming from Cajon High School in San Bernardino California Adrian is trying to get a feel for his new stomping grounds. At Cajon as a starting running back he averaged 11.7 yards a carry, 26 touchdowns, and nearly 2000 yards during his freshman season. Adrian knows that once he gets a chance to step on the field his spot as starting running back will be solidified. His grades on the other hand; could use some touching up. Averaging a 2.6 GPA this year Adrian struggles to hit his goals for College. The NCAA regulations state that all students must obtain an overall GPA score of 3.2 during their following semester of completion. 

Knowing this Adrian tries to make time for studying, and being tutored outside of his busy schedule. Having practice after each school day Adrian hurries home to help his mother maintain their household. Having 4 younger siblings and a sickly father Adrian has to step up around the house. Taking care of chores and helping his siblings with their homework each day he finds very little time for himself. Frustrated at times, Adrian wishes he didn’t have all the responsibilities that are required of him. He wants to move back to Cajon where these pressures didn’t weight so much on him. Family and friends alike try to talk Wisdom, knowledge, courage, and understanding into him. His mother pushes him the hardest because of her experiences in life that surrounded his father. 

Always hearing stories about his father playing college football and the chances he could’ve had if he’d focused on his career instead of girls, fashion, and street stature. Adrian feels overwhelmed with his father’s decisions in life sometimes, and wishes he would have thought more about the future so that Adrian himself could focus on his career 100 percent of the time. Being the oldest is hard for Adrian and at times it shows in his works. Other times even the closest to Adrian couldn’t tell if it was pain that drove him or his anger toward his living situation that pushes him to try his hardest. Living in this new environment where kids have so much freedom and accessibility to all the right training tools they’ll need to reach a great school. 

Adrian finds himself fighting against training and friends. At Cajon the young athletes trained hard and barely receive any recognition for there efforts. At Etiwanda the kids barely train at all and still has a greater chance at making it to a top performing University. These things bring wonders to Adrian’s mind about politics and how he’s viewed in the community. With all the pressures outside of class, inside of class, and in his mind. Adrian is still finding out what it means to have a life as an Athlete.

"How to Do Amazing in Freshman Year" by Nicholas C

This Little 5 Step article will show you how to do your very best in your Freshman year of high school . This article will show you how in a fun and informative way.

Step One: Always get to Class Late

Why would you need to get to class on time, all the “education” usually happens in the middle or end of the class, and since when do cool kids get to class early.

Step Two: Don’t Turn in Homework

Why do homework if you understand everything in the class, why do we need to do more, and f you have a teacher you don’t like wouldn’t it make them mad that you’re disobeying them.

Step Three: Sleep in Class

So going back to the statement of you already understand everything, so if you’re doing review sleep, rest your pretty eyes, the teacher will not notice and if they do they won’t care, plus it’ll add to the whole rebelling thing, yeah get back at those teachers

Step Four: Always Cheat

I mean it’s only cheating if you get caught. Let’s face it why should someone who listened get a better grade than you, so if the teacher isn’t looking, just take a little peek, plus it’ll make you look cool.

  

Step Five: And always Ditch

If you’re getting a good grade then why should you go, it’s not like you are going to miss out on something, and if you do who cares not like it’s going to matter after school.

And there you go obviously these are steps for the opposite so do the opposite of what I say and you’ll do amazing in your first year of High school.  

“How to ride a Motor Vehicle with a Clutch” by Anthony A

 One day you may find yourself in a situation where you have to ride a motor vehicle with a clutch, so I’m here to teach you. The first step is making sure you are wearing proper riding gear such as a helmet, boots, gloves. etc. So once you have the proper gear you will have you start the bike. Now, there may be multiple ways to start the bike depending on what you're riding.

Older bikes tend to have kickstarters, kickstarters are located on the right side of the bike and can be pulled out and pushed downwards. Once you have located the kickstarter you will have to pull in the clutch. The clutch is located on the left handlebar and is a lever that can be pulled in to idle the bike. So once you have located the kickstarter and clutch you will simply pull in the clutch and kick the kickstarter down until you hear the bike start.

So, now that you have the bike started you will kick the shifter. located on the left side all the way down. Once you have completed that step you can start accelerating by slowly letting out the clutch and giving the bike some throttle. Once you have started accelerating you will hear the bike get much louder indicating that you need to shift up. To shift up you will pull the shifter up with your foot and the bike will become louder again. If the bike starts to get loud again, shift up again.

So now that you have started to ride you will probably have to stop at some time. To do that you will pull the brake located at the right handlebar you simply pull in the clutch and brake simultaneously. Once you stop keep the clutch in and let go of the brake. To turn off the bike there will be a red kill switch that you can switch to kill the bike.

Now there is still much to learn, but you will be able to do basic things with the information that I have shared with you. So, that is how you ride a Motor vehicle with a clutch.

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

Here are your March writers!  Go Read and enjoy!

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

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

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

"Renegade" by Andrew T

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

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

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

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

"What Is Your Name?" by Ellamae A

Session one.

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

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

Mary.​[Quietly​ murmurs]​

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

twin... Jane perhaps?...

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

Woman.​And why do you believe that?

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

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

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



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

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

Session two.

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

Mary flashes a sarcastic smile at her.

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

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

Woman.​[Inquisitively​]​How so?

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

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

The timer goes off suddenly.

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

Later on.

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

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

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

She takes a hard swing at her sister.

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




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






She takes a step back.





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





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

Her.​My name is Mary Jane…

“KOOL-AID MAN” by Nate S

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

"Black and White" by Jack M

Black.

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

Black.

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

Black.

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

Black.

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

Black.

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

Black.

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

Black.

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

White.

"Oops” by Mia T

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

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

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

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

"A Night to Remember" By Aliza B

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

"Paint Me Yellow" by Nita B

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

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

"The Unknown" by Alyssa A

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

"Where He Went" by Cynthia A

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