"The Bench Man" by Katherine A

            It began on an October weekday. I was feeling especially overwhelmed from my office job, so, on my way home from work, I took a shortcut through a local park. It was a popular place, famous for its fresh air, wide array of plant life, and peaceful atmosphere. As it was autumn, the leaves on the trees were beginning to turn red and fall, sparsely blanketing the ground with dried plant matter that crunched loudly when stepped on. In my opinion, this, as well as the sunny and pleasant weather, made it an even more beautiful, serene location and encouraged my desire to take the new route.

            Upon strolling through the park along the main path, I noticed a man sitting on one of the benches. This wasn't strange in itself; however, unlike the others, he was alone, smiling broadly and greeting passerby cheerfully. His appearance was that of any normal man's; what captured my attention was the pink flower he had in his hands. The bushes surrounding him didn't bear that particular type of plant, so he, peculiarly, must have brought it with him.

            I avoided eye contact as I walked by, but he spoke up in an exuberant voice, "Good evening!"

            I, intent on getting home quickly to spend some time relaxing, replied with a terse, "Evening," and kept walking.

            He, however, continued. "How are you doing today?"

            As we lived in a large, bustling city where strangers almost always kept to themselves, I found this to be unusual. Curious now, I stopped momentarily, turned to face him, and said, "I'm good. And yourself?"

            His strange grin grew wider. "I'm doing great! Where are you coming from, if you don't mind me asking?"

            I stared at him in awe. He continued gazing up at me, and I couldn't help but reply to him; his childlike excitement over such a trivial conversation was contagious. While his inviting demeanor beckoned me to sit beside him and engage further in conversation, I greatly yearned for a hot cup of coffee and a novel, so I politely ended the conversation and continued on my way.

            I maintained my new routine, heading through the park after each work day; the man, however, was never there. For two weeks, I kept my eyes peeled for him. I had just about given up on making a new friend when, one day, there he was on the same bench from before. He waved at me, and I made my way over, meeting him with a smile and a "Hello again." After exchanging our greetings, I joked that I had been waiting for him to show up again as we had never finished our conversation from before. He seemed pleased to hear this; in fact, he did continue our exchange with even more enthusiasm than before. Before I knew it, I was sitting on the bench beside him, chattering away about nothing of significance.

            I called him the Bench Man as we never actually exchanged names; it simply didn't feel necessary. We were just two strangers who sat and conversed with one another, though more often than not I lead the conversation and he listened, nodded politely, and occasionally commented on an interesting statement or provided me with much-appreciated guidance.

            I considered him a close friend of mine as he was a source of constant support, helpful advice, and smiles in a time where I struggled daily over fairly trivial personal and work matters. However, while I constantly lamented on the iniquities of my boss, he rarely spoke of himself and his problems despite my attempts to convince him to do so. In addition, while his lips constantly smiled at me, his eyes depicted another story. They had a glassy, glazed look; in fact, when I think back to it, the best word to describe them would be empty. Devoid of emotion, they chilled me to the bone, and I avoided their haunting gaze as much as possible. I found these things, and him, to be bizarre, even unsettling, though I enjoyed his rather benevolent personality and soothing company too much for this to drastically interfere with my opinion of and visits with him.

            One day, the Bench Man was acting strangely. I asked him if he was feeling okay, and he just nodded with a small grin and motioned for me to continue my description of the mountainous pile of paperwork waiting for me on Monday.

            I did so but watched him stealthily out of the corners of my eyes. He had no coat despite the sudden chilly breeze and clouds that loomed overhead. His usually upright position was now somewhat slumped over, and he inconspicuously fiddled with a sweet pea in a restless manner. Something was wrong, but I couldn't identify the source nor did he seem willing to speak of it when I asked. Unwilling to anger him, I regrettably let the matter slide.

            "I think I should leave now," he finally spoke up after a moment of uneasy silence. I checked my phone for the time and saw that it was later than I usually kept him.

            "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take up this much of your Friday night."

            "Don't worry about it."

            With a smile not unlike a grimace, he handed me the flower, thanked me for my time, and walked down the path, almost floating above the blanket of leaves.

            I never saw him again.

October Writers Are Here!

What a treat!  :)

Read all of the selections for this month --   comments are for this month's group only (no earlier months, or last year's submissions)

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!

"Souvenir" by Mylizah J

      Memories can bring back both the best and the worst moments in a person's life. It sucks when they do both at the same time. Once upon a time I had two dogs , siblings, one named Dominoe and the other Lucy. Their father was assumingly a german shepard and their mother a pitbull. Being just a year old at the time they were incredibly playful but unfort unately incredibly inexperienced as well meaning they didn't really know how to contain their excitement.

     It was the summer between my freshman to sophomore year and i enjoyed every minute of it,
especially the ones spent with my puppies. But, like i said, they weren't very experienced with, well life yet. They would always get into trouble with my neighbors. Digging into the their yards and just reeking havoc,on their lawns. One day this was too much of a threat to my neighbor s and woke up
to an unusually quiet house . After some investigating I found out that my dogs were taken to the pound.

     About a week after getting the news everything seemed to take a turn for the worse. We had Animal control at my house every chance we got to prove our responsibility in fixing the holes in our yard. Hundreds to thousands of dollar were spent on getting my dogs back to us for a month, all the way up to my first day of Sophmore year. During the first week is when my Mother decided enough was enough and money wasn't the issue. She called the pound once, twice when they didn't answer the first time, then a third for good luck to tell the pound that we were coming for what is ours but all attempts of communication ended with a automated voice message system.

     Finally, exhausted by the phone calling and false hope , my mom went to the pound hoping to surprise me with my beloved dogs after school . After school came around and and I was surprised all right, but not with the presence of my dogs but the news of their death. “Humanely euthanized” is what they called it but murder is what it was.The last memories of my dogs are ones I rather not relive but there are so many others that I cherish and never want to loose.

"The Mirror " by Taylor T

      Mirrors are commonly thought to be a reflective device used to see what we look like, but this is incorrect. For me, it has been a window, and someone has been knocking for as long as I can remember. When I first heard a knock, it was soft, like a tap on a window. Throughout the years, they have become more aggressive. When I confront the mirror, nothing happens; I’m just staring at myself. This time... this time was different.

     One night, I decided to confront the thing behind the mirror using a different approach. I had wondered for a long time if the mirror games we knew when we were young would work, such as Blue Baby, Bloody Mary, Candyman, etc. I’ve tried them all. Nothing happened except scaring myself half to death. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, hopeless and curious, as if the thing in my mirror was in need of some sort of help, a release. Then, something happened, something that shouldn’t be possible, something that... was beyond comprehension. It smiled at me.

     This wasn’t a sweet smile-no, not at all. This was frightening, menacing, as if this thing was something from hell. The smile was wide. Almost too wide. And its eyes became darker, black, like they had been torn out of their sockets and what was left were the hollow holes filled with dried blood. Its teeth was oversized and yellow, gums dripping blood. It started to tilt its head, each slight movement met with a crack and snap of its neck. And it seemed to never stop. It was as if the neck of the creature extended for miles. But that smile, that horrifying smile, never once left its face. But this creature didn’t stop there. It began to move. Walk away, when I had never moved my feet.

     As the creature turned and walked out of the reflected door, I stood in shock, unable to step away from the mirror. I had hoped I was dreaming, but when I gained the courage to turn around, I was met with complete darkness. What I believed had happened, I hoped wasn’t true. I desperately hoped that this creature did not take my life as its own. I stood shaking, and resulted to the only thing that could possibly help me: I started to bang on the mirror.

     I never dared to enter the darkness lurking behind me. But I would continue to stand there, for the rest of eternity, hoping someone would find me behind this mirror.

    Then it came back...

"Untitled" by Solina K

My story doesn’t have a definite time and place. It’s still is happening now. It’s senior year and
these last 4 years have definitely gone by faster than I imagined. From starting off as a freshman
so naive and unknowing of the real world. I have transformed into the person I am today because
of these last 4 years. However in the process of finding myself, I lost myself. I wasn’t always
sure of my true identity or who I was as an individual. For years as a young teenager, I would be
the shadow of those who were my “friends” and I lacked a sense of self. But going into
high school I was determined to change who I was and actually come to find who I was and
develop my character. Well that’s not exactly how it happened for the first couple of years. I just
stuck to my academics and did as told by my parents. But I think most teenagers know that when
our boundaries given to us by our parents are so tight, we get an even greater urge to rebel and
experience new things. I began to have a pretty rocky relationship with my parents, always
arguing and it was heartbreaking to me because before then I had such a great relationship with
them. It was as if when I would talk to them, nothing I said, they were able to comprehend. After
a while I just became very indifferent and didn’t care about much. I still held up my grades
though for my own good. Since I never really felt welcomed at home, I constantly stayed out late
at night with friends. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had some fun times but it didn’t always feel right.
At times I felt used and that the friendships I had weren’t genuine so even though I looked
happy, there was somewhat of a void that started to form inside me. But as Junior year came
around, I knew I wanted to do things differently. I realized as I got older that I had to build back
my relationship with my parents because I often forget that as I’m out living my life, they’re
growing older by the day and they weren’t receiving the appreciation they deserved. By this
point in my life though, my mom started a new side job which made her always on the go. I
didn’t get to see either of my parents much so I felt like I was just growing up on my own. Even
though it made me grow apart, I learned to be independent and look out for myself. I really grew
mature during this time and learned to prioritize what was actually important in my life. Now
I’m a senior and life definitely has taken me places I’d never thought I’d visit. But with
everything comes a learning experience. So no, I don’t believe high school was the best 4 years
of my life, as the clique saying would state otherwise. But as I’m nearing the end of my high
school journey, I’ve found genuine friendships and people who I wouldn’t ever trade for the
world. I’d like to say that I’ve found myself but I’m not quite there yet. However in May,
standing on that stage to receive my diploma, I will be able to look back and say wholeheartedly
that these past 4 years have made me grown for the better.

"Happiness" by Christofer G

     Happiness Oh boy. Here we go again, right? Another story about some poor soul who was bullied as a child. I wonder what he’s going to talk about. Maybe he’s going to talk about how it ruined his life. Maybe he’s going to talk about how it’s made him antisocial. Maybe he’s going to talk about how being bullied caused him to lose his sense of trust as he secludes himself from society in order to save himself from the possibility of being hurt again. Well… not really. Quite the opposite, really. I should start off by stating that although I am extremely lucky that being bullied did not cause any of these things to happen to me, not everyone is as lucky. Not everyone can cope with the effects of being bullied, and I would simply like to explain that I am not, neither in the beginning of this story nor throughout it, intending to state that everyone’s story is the same: not everyone’s life goes the way I described. Now, although I was bullied throughout my life, it mainly became an issue in 5th through 6th grade.
     Of course as I am now a senior in high school, bullying hasn’t really been an issue, nor has it been since I started high school. But, being bullied used to be a common occurrence in my life when I was about ten. I used to get teased because of my long hair, I used to get called names and secluded from everyone else because of it. But no matter what they did, what they called me, I knew that I was in the right. After all, the only reason I started growing out my hair was because one of my younger cousins had leukemia and I wanted to help out other people that shared her condition. But they didn’t know that, and they didn’t need to. I remember seeing other people being bullied, others who were forced to live their elementary school days in the corners of the playground as to avoid being bombarded with cruel nicknames and being shoved to the ground. I remember feeling bad, not only for myself, but for the bullies as well. I knew that there was something wrong with them that was causing them to bully others: maybe they were going through family struggles, maybe they were being abused and they felt that the only way to vent was to release their anger on others that they saw as being lower than them. Now where could I be going with this? How does any of this tie in to the title? Well, I’ll tell you. From the second I left elementary school, I told myself that from that point on, no matter what happened, I would always smile. I would always treat people with kindness, I would always try to make people laugh, I would always try to show people that they mattered. Even though I was rarely treated with that mindset by someone else, I was happy: It was something about seeing others smile. Something about seeing that they didn’t have to go through what I was going through. Something about knowing that I could say or do something that would lighten their moods or make their day was enough to make me happy. And from that point on, my life has been filled with nothing but happiness. Those who held me down, only encouraged me to help pick others up. And the only thing I’d ever ask for in return was something that no amount of money could buy: a meaningful smile.

“How to Be Happy” :) By: Justine C

“In seeking happiness for others, you must find it yourself.” -Unknown
According to Webster’s dictionary, the true meaning of the word “Happy” is fortunate. I feel as
if happiness cannot be defined in terms of tangibility and you don’t have to be fortunate to be
happy. For example, those without much and barely making ends meet can be happy without
having all the money and nice things in the world. Growing up, we might find it harder and
harder to find happiness in the little things but we must remind ourselves that happiness means
something different to everybody and only we have the ability to control how we feel, these are
just a couple of examples of how you can help guide yourself to the basics of happiness:
Materials:
-Good heart
-Positive mindset
-Stability
-Independence
-Open mindset
-Ability to Learn from your mistakes
Step 1: Your surroundings and Positive Mindset
The process of happiness begins with your surroundings, the more positive you surround
yourself affects how positive you are with others and the more negative you are
surrounded with affects your negativity among others, in this case it’s best to try turning
your negativity to positivity. Basically if you always have a mindset of “today’s going to
be a bad day,” you will obviously have a bad day. Even if it is a bad day, try telling
yourself “today was a bad day but how can I make it better?” An Open Mindset is
another helpful tool to happiness, being comfortable with stepping out of your comfort
zone to help yourself grow as an individual can teach you that there’s so much in the
world that you don’t yet know about but would love to learn.
Step 2: Doing something good for others
“It is literally true that you can succeed best and quickest by helping others to succeed.”
-Napolean Hill, A great way to make you feel better about yourself is to help others in
anyway possible, this can go many ways from simply keeping your community clean to
giving a homeless man a dollar and a smile. Small acts of kindness will help teach others
to do good for one another and possibly create a chain reaction of helpfulness.
Step 3: Finding something you enjoy doing
If you feel unhappy with how your life is going, try finding something you’re interested
in and surround yourselves with others that may be interested in similar hobbies or
activities. Finding something you enjoy doing helps you feel better about yourself and
look forward to becoming a better you.
Step 4: Stability
A good balance between everything complicated and stressful in your life is a huge key
to happiness. If you become stressed over one thing, always remember to stay positive
and take time for yourself. This can start from simply taking a short nap to maybe even a
small walk around your neighborhood to help clear your mind of this hard stress. Always
remember stress is apart of growing and one day all of your hard work will pay off.
Step 5: Be your own Happiness
You must learn to be your own happiness and that it’s almost impossible to find
happiness through other people. Those who you think you can’t live without are all
temporary and should teach you need to learn to grow on your own not only mentally but
also physically. As I said before, little things like money, the nicest shoes or even biggest
house might make you temporarily happy but in the long run, these kind of things won’t
help you find inner happiness.
These couple of steps aren’t the only ways to become “happy.” Each of us are our own
ambassadors of our own happiness, no one person can tell you how or what makes you happy it
is situational for everybody.

"Evaporate" by Alexandra U

There he was, silent, still, at peace. His dead body lie there unable to move,
unable to grasp onto reality. He was now only an apparition floating through the air
hoping to be more, hoping to console his loved ones. His wake was filled, a quiet room,
the only sound was the sound of each heartbeat. The room is still until a woman, the
boy's mother, walked up to his casket. His lifeless body is surrounded with puffy silk
pillows and billowy silk drapes. She set her hand on his, and wept, but not for the loss of
her son. She cries to keep the facade of a caring mother. Unfortunately for her, she is not
an actress so to keep the tears coming she remembers the last time she had a stiff drink,
2 hours. She starts to shake and her silent tears turn into gut wrenching sobs, she falls to
the floor and she is picked up and taken to a chair far away from her son’s body. Her
family approaches her with caution She is frail, she has orange hair and is wearing a
black form fitting cocktail dress, she is not trying to hide her hourglass figure, she flaunts
it. Because of this she is an outcast in her family, yet they come to her aid. They ask if
they can help her and she asks for money. Knowing she and her, now cold, son were
homeless living out of 1996 Toyota and living off of whatever boyfriend she had that
week. Reluctant they each give her money and their numbers in case she needs anything
else.
The attention shifts from the boy's mother to a tall man with hair as dark as the
bottom of the ocean and as fluid as waves just about to hit the shore. He has soft green
eyes and pale skin streaked with tears. He looks at the boys sunken face. He is covered
in ridiculous amounts of make up so the man takes out a handkerchief and wipes off the
boys face. He feels a twinge of happiness to see the boy as he was. Hair as dark as the
bottom of the ocean and as fluid as the waves about to hit the shore. The man had
fought for years to gain custody of his son, but because his mother was ruthless in her
attempts to ruin the man's life she did everything she could to stop it. With bribes of her
body, money and whatever else she could conjure up she single handedly killed both the
man and his son. He cried, he felt the eyes of an empty woman boring into him and he
wept for the loss of his only love, killed by the one he thought he would do anything for.
The woman who chose drugs and alcohol over the life of her son. The woman who killed
him. He felt her eyes burning into him, and in a single moment he gained his composure
turned to his old love and gave her one look. One deadly, angry, sorrow filled look. A
look that terrified her. He began to walk towards her when a rush of cold surrounded
him. He lost his breath and he fell to the floor. The apparition who saw the violence
hiding behind his father's eyes surrounded him. He gave him the closest thing he could
to a hug to reassure him they would be back together soon, his father grasped onto the
vapors surrounding him and he felt whole again, then suddenly the feeling of entirety
was gone as soon as it came. The boy had evaporated into thin air.
***
His eyes opened and fear enveloped him. He had been asleep for 5 days and had
no idea of where he was. He awoke to bright lights and the sound of a heart monitor. He
looked further to see he was connected to a series of tubes and monitors. Upon further
inspection he saw a tall man sleeping in a hospital cot next to him. He had hair as dark as
the depths of the ocean and as fluid as waves about to hit the shore. The boy wished for
nothing more for him to wake so his suspicions would become more, would become
reality. As his heart raced the sound on the monitor raced to catch up, the tall man
opened his eyes and the boy saw the pale green, matching his. His father rushed over to
his son and hugged him as tightly as he could and whispered to him. “We’re free.”

"Spookiness of October" by Mya L

In the month of October everyone says that they enjoy a good scare. Well this year in October there has been clowns scaring people all over the world. On October 2nd a group of friends went to the Queen Mary, remember they had no idea what they were expecting. One girl loved to get scared, the other one never gets scared, another one hated clowns, and last two were just scared of everything. They started off with the first maze as they walked in a GIANT man came chasing after them. The two who were scared of everything were in the front that when they saw the man they dipped and ran right back out. They finally all walked in and stayed together in the first part of the maze, there were 3 doors and the group chose the 1st door. When they walked in it looked just like a hospital but scarier. The lights were flickering on and off, then all of a sudden the lights turned off! The lights then came back on and there was a clown standing in the middle of the walk way. Everybody suddenly stopped and hesitated to walk. Then the lights went off again and when they came back on the clown was behind them and said “WANNA PLAY”!!! The group then turned around to look at the clown and when they saw the clown behind them they ran so fast to get out of the room. When they came out they thought that they were done and then suddenly a worker said “please choose another room.” The group chose the 3rd room and walked into a pitch black room and suddenly they heard a laugh and the loud noise of a chainsaw. The one who never gets scared whispered “I’m absolutely terrified.”   
~ Happy Halloween ~

"The Blank Canvas" by Alana F

     They were young, a completely blank canvas, and wow did they look forward to the
future. The young canvas loved looking at their parents and all of their parents’ friends and
seeing what beautiful works of art they were. Their dreams consisted almost entirely of
imagining what kind of unique painting they would become. Multitudes of ideas drifted across
their pure blank space. Castles in the sky washed over by brainstorms of microcosmic miracles
and colorful creations that poured from their unfiltered enthusiasm. Eventually, the canvas grew
older, and they were sent to school. Bubbling over with excitement, the canvas eagerly attended
school, wondering when they would learn to become beautiful works of art too, but their first few
years passed, and they were still blank. Then the third grade hit, and canvas pranced in,
imagination in tow. Finally, they would learn to paint. When they reached over, grabbing
brushfuls of a rainbow, a streak of red flashed violently across the canvas, blaring and harsh
against the stark white background. Looking up, the canvas saw their teacher, glaring daggers
and holding a red paint saturated brush. Shocked, the canvas stuttered out a weak “why?”
“You didn't follow my instructions,” said the teacher monotonously. The canvas was
stunned, mortified, and confused, but they didn't step out of line again. As the years passed, the
blank canvas was slowly filled up with angry splatters, awkward splashes, anxious stripes and
annoying specks.
They asked their parents why they had to let others paint them, when it wasn't others
blank space to fill, but the parents just replied with a dull “That's just how life is,” and another
smear of paint across the canvas’ diminishing ghostly pale complexion. By the time the canvas
was in mid-high school, all of the muddy colors that had been forced upon them bled together
and ran down the canvas, eventually turning them completely black. No longer did the canvas
dream bright colors and vibrant scenes, dark clouds and greyscale skies had taken their place.
Everyone worried about the canvas, and wondered why they had gone from so vibrant and
excited to so dull and unmotivated.
Eventually, everyone moved on, and canvas moved out. Once they had some time to
themselves, the canvas got angry. “Why should they be the ones to determine how I am. I’m the
one who has to live with it for the rest of my life?” So the canvas found some buckets of paint,
and slowly started to repaint themselves. The end result was perfect, much more beautiful than
before. Brilliant blue and shimmering silver seas gave way to vibrant violet flowers in gorgeous
gold and green fields, a purple sky, cotton candy clouds, and a rainbow in between. Despite the
shocked and slightly offended reactions of their peers, the canvas was never again anybody but
themselves. Sometimes, in the right light, the original image still shows through, but they quickly
find the thin spots in the second coat and cover them with love. The canvas resolved to never
let anybody paint their own expectations onto them again, because nobody deserves to be
forced to hide who they really are.

"Beauty of Death" by Christian A

     I remember like it was yesterday. I was at my cousin’s house one Summer night in year 2012, it
was late and i was exhausted and uneasy, which is never a good mix. As i lay on the carpet
floor ready to go to bed, i took some time to ask God a favor. I asked him that if he were to take
someone away from me do it in a way that was peaceful and serene. Then i went to sleep, or at
least i tried. Like previously stated i was in an anxious state causing me to toss and turn, some
of it was due to the fact that i was on the floor but that is besides the fact. Eventually all this
movement has put me into a stand still, and i was forced into deep thought as i stare into the
white ceiling. It was like i was in a trance, my mind was filled with “what ifs” and it was driving
me to the edge. So far to the edge that i broke down in tears, yes boys cry so what. It was not
long before sobbing drained my energy and had knocked me out. The morning after i woke up
homesick, there wasn’t another place i’d rather be than home at the time. I just wanted to be
with family to be more specific. Upon my request my cousin took me home from her Santa Ana
abode. As i arrived home, you would think i would be happy to be there, wrong. The place i
came home too is still the same place i tried to avoid all Summer. This is because the person
that pretty much raised me as not a person anymore, but a ticking time bomb ready to go off.
This person was my very ill grandma. My house looked depressing to say the least, just imagine
person you love so much hooked up onto various medical equipment just to keep them alive.
Not to mention this is all taking place below my room, so there really wasn’t a way to escape it.
Anyways, as i walked into my home i calmly walked to my grandma’s bed and stared at her
sleeping for about 2 minutes. Sounds weird but i was just absorbing it all in, trying to get used to
it you know? Then afterwards, i simply told her a “i love you” and went up to my room. This is
where my memory gets a little hazy, so i’m just going to fast forward to the juicy stuff. At around
12 a.m. my sister and i heard a loud scream from our rooms from downstairs. So we both
stormed out of our rooms and looked at each other with that look that something is going to go
down. So we ran down stairs to see what’s the commotion is all about. As we walked down
stairs we saw many of our family members crowded around my grandma’s bed crying, confused
i walked a little closer to take a better look at what’s happening. So as i looked over i saw my
grandma unresponsive, sort of stonelike. And in that moment I knew that the favor i asked of
God every night that Summer is finally being granted. Moments passed, tears running down my
face i thought to myself, “ Wow, what a beautiful death”. Death is always perceived as
something that is depressing and dark. However that is not the case in my situation, my
grandma lived on this Earth for 92 years and she was ready to go. And she left with her children
and grandchildren around her in a house that she loved.

"Never Would’ve Thought" by Cheyenne W

     My best friend and I weren't quite sure what we wanted to do this one weekend. She was
allowed to take her mom's car and go somewhere, so we had many thoughts of where we should
go. We thought about going to the beach, the movies, just to eat out, or to even go on a date, but
I thought “Lets just go skating even though I can't skate all that well”. My best friend Nicole
agreed with my decision, so we wanted to go cosmic skating which is around 7. We left my
house around 7 and since the Skate Express is in Chino Hills it's about 20 minutes away we
showed up around 7:30. Now, at this time we are in line with some other friends waiting to pay
for our skates and to actually get in the doors where the skating rink is. It was about 4 of us in
line and we were waiting to get our sizes for our skates. As soon as we got our sizes, we put our
skates on and while everybody was skating to the skating rink I was slowly and very carefully
strolling to the skating rink. My friends have already got out there and started to have a ball,
meanwhile i’m on the side waiting for the perfect time to get out there and go towards the
middle, where all the people who can't skate go or if they just want to dance with their skates go
as well. While skating there are always skaters that have their own skates which are known to be
the “ OG Skaters”, and this one boy I saw, had his own skating shoes that lit up and were all
different colors, so he stood out the most but I wasn't paying any mind to him at first because he
was skating in the skating rink with a girl , who I was assuming to be his girlfriend or just a date.
My friends now came over to me while I was still on the side and dragged me all the way to the
middle and that's when I tried to skate and go as fast as them and fell, I fell about at least 3 times
throughout the night. The DJ of the night was playing really good songs that I was trying to get
into and skate but it didn't work out too well together, it was either dance or skate, not both.
While the DJ was changing the music he stopped the music and expressed, “ Everyone pull out
your phones and skate and snapchat”. That was most most definitely my cue to exit the rink since
I was barely was able to skate as it is and the boy who had the really nice skates on that lit up
was still out there but now I didn't see the girl he was with, which now im wondering whats
really goin on because shes been gone for awhile now. All of a sudden, look who decided to
come up to me while i'm on the side, the boy with the light up skates, and he asked if I can put
myself on his snapchat,and I didn't mind it, I was just a little nervous because a guy never came
up to me that I didn't know and ask me to put myself on their snapchat. So, I put myself on his
snapchat and he asked, “What's your name?” and I said, “Cheyenne! what about you?”, as I start
to smile and giggle, he replies and says, “ JD”. Everyone who knows me well, knows i'm very
forgetful, so once JD and I were done speaking to each other, my friends came up as usual and
were all excited and asking me, “what his name was?” and “who was he” and I responded and
said,” I think his name is James, but i'm not sure” and we all started to laugh because he just told
me his name and I already forgot it. Then after that incident, throughout the whole night I just
kept staring and he caught me everytime, and I looked away awkwardly every time. The most
embarrassing thing is I fell again and this time it was because I was trying to look all cool
skating, knowing I couldn't and this happened towards closing time, That was my last lap and I
went to turn in my skates, then I saw him in the corner of my eye and got to shy to say anything
so I just kept walking, hoping and wishing he would add me back on snapchat so we could start
talking. I never would've thought, that I would've still been talking to him till this day, but I’m
glad I am!

"Sledding Catastrophe " by Emily D

Listening to directions is easy except when one of the directions is, “Listen to directions!” 2004 was the year that I learned the most important lesson of my entire life. I was 5 when my family decided to spend a few weeks of December in Utah. During that month, we spent a lot of time sledding. I would wake my parents up early in the morning around 8 a.m. and jump up and down on their bed to ask them with the most enthusiasm within me, “Can we go sledding right now?!” Each time we went out to go sledding it was amazing. Sledding was the most exciting thing ever invented. I would get an adrenaline rush each time I saw which hill we would settle on for that day. I would get goose bumps because I thought I was such a daredevil as I slid down the soft, smooth snow. Sledding just got better and better every time that we went.

However the very last time that we went sledding that December was the last time I ever chose to sled again. That day all started with getting ready in our rooms with my sister. My sister and I are only 2 years apart and it is extremely easy for us to get into silly arguments. Well while we were getting ready we were watching TV and on that early morning they were showing SpongeBob and Tarzan. I so desperately wanted to watch SpongeBob but my older sister took the remote away from me and put it on the top of a cabinet where she knew I would not be able to reach it. My sister won the argument which destroyed my mood. You know when you are 5 and get into an argument with your siblings then you lose which makes you think you really have nothing else to live for? That was me.

We got to the top of the mountain and I realized that I didn’t want to be anywhere near my sister. I wanted at all times to be no less than 10 feet away from her. I didn’t even want to share the same air. If I saw her once even from my peripheral view, I was going to throw hands. It was my turn to go on the sled and my mom gently pushed me down where my sister was supposed to catch me. She told me, “Let your sister catch you!” And behind her my dad added, “I know you are mad at your sister but LISTEN TO DIRECTIONS!” So there I was sledding right down the hill where at the end I would be caught by my sister whom I previously vowed to never be near for the rest of my life. I couldn't have that so I took the handles of the sled and I turned it far off to the right where there was a slight bump in the snow. That slight bump was enough to get me off course and down another hill that entered the parking lot. I slid down that hill and down under a pickup truck. Thanks to my instincts I laid my head down before I hit the truck’s bumper. I remember lying under the truck laughing because I thought I was successful at keeping a good distance from my sister. I lay under the truck soaking in all the glory of my successful task until my family got me out from under the truck.

When my mom and dad ran to get me out from under there, I realized that I was very wrong. My parents were so afraid and my mom was crying. Seeing my mom cry made me cry because I knew I could have avoided it if only I had listened to her. The lesson I learned was the simplest and most basic lesson to ever learn - Listen to directions. I learned it the hard way. Sliding under the truck wasn’t when the message hit me; it was when my parents were all shook up. If only I had listened to what they were saying instead of holding grudges, I wouldn’t have caused them any stress.

"The Cellar" by Daniel R

     It flickered, as if it were being fought over by the light and the dark. The lone yellow light, in the lonely storm cellar swayed. It was pacing back and forth nervously. The howling of the wind above screamed destruction.

     I observed this process quite often. There simply wasn’t much to do in the storm cellar. I’ve been trapped in some stranger’s cellar forever. It seems i’ve been here my whole life, but really it's only been about a week. So when I wasn’t occupied (meaning all the time), I related this ancient, cracked bulb to myself. Unsure where to go, what to do. Lonesome. Tired. Not physically, but tired of everything going wrong. But lots light bulbs flicker after a while, so I guess it's a matter of replacing the bulb with something brighter.

     Why am I in a storm cellar? Well if you take a peek at the first word in ‘storm cellar’, you just might be able to guess right. Not just any storm though. Not at all. The dusty transistor radio has provided quite the education on storms. E5 tornadoes. Hail. Lightning. Yeah, not very fun. Don’t get me wrong, being from Southern California, I could use a little rain. But given I am in North Texas where tornadoes are common, it's no surprise this rain here could wash out a spider that's not so itsy bitsy.

     Another question you might have, why am I in some random cellar? I was on my way to see a friend. She’s not just any friend, I’m madly in love with her. You can imagine how big of a trip this was for me. I was excited to see her bright beautiful smile, her sweet laugh. Instead, the darkness of the clouds were chasing me, the monstrous cracks of thunder like an evil laugh. Now you know why I am in tornado alley. I was going somewhere. But here’s exactly how it went down. Here is why--- here is why i’m here. These are my thoughts and dialogue from 7 days ago.

*distant clasp of thunder* Such a long drive, still not even close to Austin. Why Texas?! It’s been like half an hour and i’m barely near Dallas. I should’ve just flew to Austin. I guess this is pretty cool though. Some clouds, rain, and distant lightning. Cool. What is she doing right now? Should I call her or is that bugging her? Maybe I shouldn’t. *thunder again, this time even closer* Some music shall keep me occupied.

“Well, shake it up, baby, now”

“Shake it up baby”

“Twist and shout!”

“Twist and shout!”

*THUNDER CRACKS OVERHEAD*

“WHAT THE---” I scream in shock, as a man who is pale as ghost approaches my window frantically.

“You need to get out of here sir, there’s been a tornado warning in this area. There's a funnel cloud twisting above.”

Should I make a twist and shout pun? No this isn’t the time. “Thank you for the heads up. But um, where exactly do I go?”

“Kid, you’re not from around here, are ya? Find a cellar! Get off the road and find a storm cellar, it’s too dangerous right now.”

“Where is there a storm cellar?! I have no idea where i’m at!”

“Kid, you need to stay calm, there's a house just around the corner. Nice people, they’ll let you stay.”

“Thanks alot! Stay safe sir.”

“You too, kid”

*10 minutes pass, I pull up to the house*

Oh man, there's no one flippin here! Where is it?! The tornado is down across the street, what am I going to do?! *wind starts to pick up significantly* It’s coming straight to me, I don’t want to die. I want her to see me alive, not at my funeral. Where is this dang cellar?! *power lines go down* Found it! *Wind starts to howl louder as tornado closes in* Please be unlocked. Please.

“Oh thank the lord it’s open!”

     To be honest, after I locked the hatch and was in the cellar safe from this storm, I don’t remember anything. I just remember waking up to that lone light bulb swaying back and forth. Also, I had no idea how long I was going to be in here for. I’ve only been outside twice since then, about five minutes to scavenge for supplies before the next tornado hit. It’s been almost a never ending storm. I knew about this too, I just thought i’d be able to drive away from the storm, only to drive into it. With no cell phone service, I knew she had to be calling me, worried. She tried to warn me. She was worried. Wait a minute, she was worried about me! Sorry (i’m really not), but this is the brightest thought i’ve had in 7 days. It’s unusually quiet right now, i’m going to look outside real fast.

     The storm is over, but on the horizon the sky threatens another. It’s far enough from here to drive away, my car amazingly wasn’t blown away. Some of the locals are telling me I really shouldn’t risk driving into the first storm, but being trapped in the first storm was bad enough to not want stay for a larger storm. She’s waiting for me and I cannot wait for her. If the next storm wants to take me, it’s going to need to catch up. I’ve learned a lot in this dungeon they call a cellar. You can only hide for so long, that only action will get you places. Some risks are worth taking no matter the circumstance. I can stay in this cellar and be safe, but facing doubt is something I never do. I’m ready to face it now. The sun is out for the first time in a while, but that's not the only thing that’s brightened up. It’s funny, I never thought i’d be a storm chaser.

"The Last Halloween" by Odinaka O

October 2015, best friends Daijah and Mya were going to a Halloween party they had planned since mid-September. The party was Mya’s idea being that she had partied many times before and it was her senior year. Daijah, on the other hand, just a year younger than Mya, was a late bloomer and wasn't into the party scene, frankly because she has never been to one before. It took Mya a lot of persuading to convince her best friend that Halloween would be the best night of all nights to go to her first party. Daijah agreed, due to the fact that it was a Mya's final year in high school, and they wouldn't have this opportunity again next year and the few years to come but Daijah didn't know what kind of party they were going to.

The night finally came, Halloween. Daijah got dropped off at Mya’s house to get ready for the night. Mya was already in her costume, a fitted navy blue jumpsuit only coming a few inches below the thick, belt around her waist with a very deep V-cut neckline. She wore dark aviator sunglasses, a cheaply made gold plastic badge with the word “POLICE” engraved in thick black font, and carried pink fuzzy handcuffs she had found in her parents’ room. Daijah was taken back by the costume her friend was wearing, not by how revealing it was but because she had brought her flapper dress and accessories she wore two years ago on Roaring 20s day at school.  

“You can't wear that,” said Mya.

“Why not,” said Daijah.

Mya knew what kind of party that would go down tonight but didn’t tell Daijah in feared that her friend would back out.

“Because...”

“Because what?”

“Just because, I think I have something you can wear. Come on.”

Daijah unwillingly obliged. Mya put Daijah in one of her short, black dresses that hugged every inch around her body, drew a black circle on her nose followed by whiskers on each cheek and gave her cat ears. Daijah looked at herself in the mirror.

“Are you serious?” Daijah said unamused by her appearance.

“You look hot! Come on we have to go!” said Mya.

            It was around 9:15 pm. They got into Mya’s car and left.

            After about 30 minutes of driving, Daijah was confused; she thought the party was only two cities over. She trusted her friend and ended up falling asleep. Finally parked, Daijah woke up to loud music. “10:37 PM” she read from the car’s clock.

“10:37 PM?!?! WHERE ARE WE? WHAT CITY ARE WE IN?” she exclaimed.

“Chill, bro. There was a lot of traffic,” Mya lied.

Daijah noticed a smell. The smell became stronger and stronger. She turned to Daijah to ask.

“Do you sm--” She stopped.

She noticed Mya was rolling what appeared to be a blunt. She was shocked. She didn't know her friend smoked but she didn't question it because she didn't want to seem “uncool”. Mya lit the blunt and began smoking.

“Do you want to hit?” she said coughing.

“No, I'm good.”

“Come on just one hit, you won't even feel it.”

“Fine”

Daijah inhaled and instantly began coughing uncontrollably. Mya laughed.

Mya was done. They left the car and walk towards the house. There were many people standing outside, they were older. Daijah predicted about 3 to 5 years older than they were. They entered the house; the first room was as hot as an oven and as humid as a summer’s day in the south. Daijah didn't recognize any of the people, but Mya did. She said hi to about every other person. Daijah began to notice there was another side of her “best friend” she hadn’t realized.

They made their way into the kitchen. The counter was full of alcohol and Jell-O shots galore. Mya began to take a few shots of vodka, and then switch to harder liquor.

“Hey! You should slow down,” said Daijah loudly due to the loud music.

“I'm fine trust me,” said Mya shouting back.

“No, dude. You drove, remember?”

“Oh yeah. But I'll be fine, promise,” as she takes another shot

Daijah exasperates in disappointment in her friend.

Then all of a sudden.

There was a gunshot.

Everyone began running and screaming. There were two more shots. Mya ran feverishly to her car, and then shortly realize she was forgetting something. Daijah. She ran back into the house frantically looking for her best friend of ten years to find her on the floor lifeless with a gunshot wound to her neck.

"The Great Awakening" by Savannah D

     There is nothing like feeling a great peace and joy. A renewal of life in itself is the
ultimatum of my emotions after becoming a Christian. When I was around the age of 4, I lived
right across from The Water of Life Christian Church and was actually able to see the church
from my bedroom window. I remember always looking out my window to see the cars parked in
front of the church and felt this safe and warm feeling. It was almost as if I felt protected,
however, I was not a Christian at that time. I was just being an observant and fascinated little
girl, but little did I know that I was soon going to be attending that church someday.
It wasn’t until I was in the 6th grade that I began going to Water of Life Church. My
older brothers began going at first, not even my parents were going to church yet. I remember
them always coming with this glow on their faces and had this radiant happiness. My dad noticed
this and had the desire to feel that same emotion which led him to begin attending Water of Life
every Sunday morning. Within a couple of weeks, my dad began to push my younger brother and
I to go to church with him. We began going frequently in December of 2010 and it was the best
decision us as a family could ever make.
     My mother was the last person of the Dunagan family to start attending Water of Life.
She would always stay at home and then just watch all of her kids and husband come home with
a glow all on our faces. She always says in her testimony that she wanted to experience and have
the joy that my father, my brothers, and I felt. My mother’s first day at Water of Life was Easter
of 2011 and from that day on God changed her life for the better. The sensation of attending
church is always a jubilant and overjoyed feeling. There is nothing like the feeling that is
presented when attending church. I have never felt so free and loved since I have been going to
church. I do not only feel the love of all the church members, but the love of God most
importantly.
     My family and I have been extending our invitation to come to church to friends and our
extended family so that they will be able to have that joyful feeling and experience something so
incredibly life changing. My younger brother and I have also been involved with serving in our
church’s children’s ministry, “Empowered Kids” in which we teach children ages from 6-9 about
the word of God. We have been serving with “Empowered Kids” for a little over two years now
and enjoy it profusely. My dad also serves with the hospitality ministry in which he greets the
people coming to church at the door. It has been truly a blessing to become a Christian and to see
a complete change in my family’s internal joy. Becoming a Christian was the “Great
Awakening” in me and my family’s life.

"Yikes" by Jada D

“Don’t you dare get in the car! DO you understand me?!” “NOOOO!!!” she shrieked as
the car took off.
Earlier that day…
“ Hey, mom, can I talk to you about something?” asked, Kim.
“Sure, hun, what’s up?”
“ How do you feel about me having a boyfriend?”
“I’ll allow it, as long as I get to meet him,” said the mom nervously.
“Well-”
“Kim!”
“Mom, can you listen? He’s on the way right now I hoped you’d say that.” She said embracing
her mother.
“I hope you love him as much as I do!”
“Kim, I’m not done with you, how long?!” said the mom trying to keep calm.
Kim snickering, “Not long at all, it’s just I didn’t know how to tell you, but it’s been two months
already.”
“Kim,” she said shaking her head, “Only two months and you love him already,” rolling her
eyes, “I’m so disappointed.”
“Really?”
“No, I’m just kidding, I’m glad you finally told me, but two months is still a short time.”
*both laughing, when the doorbell rings*
“I got it!”
“Hi, my love!” says James as he gives, Kim, the flowers and hugs her.
James looking around and suddenly eyes widening.
“James?” asked the mother horrified.
“ No! No! No! NO!” they both say echoing each other.
“Kim! This is your-”
James, interrupting, “Hello, Mrs. Kelley.” looking horrified still not know how to react.
“Ms. Johnson, now, I cannot believe this, this can’t be real.”
“Excuse me, what’s going on here ?” asked, Kim cluelessly.
“James, I need to speak with my daughter!”
“Kim, this is your cousin, from your father’s side, he was at our wedding!”
“Mom! You’re lying, stop!”
“James? Did you know?”
“Oh no, I’m going to be sick!” James says before throwing up in the flowers he got, Kim.
“ No, she’s lying come on!” Kim, says grabbing James and running to the car, “ Start it, come
on, Now!”
“Don’t you dare get in the car! DO you understand me?!” “NOOOO!!!” she shrieked as the car
took off.
*later down the street racing past cars*
“James!” Kim, yelled crying.
“What!!”
“You went to my mom and dad’s wedding?”
“Are you rea-”
“DON’T!” James, screamed.
“How couldn’t we have known? Why haven’t I seen you before? How is this possible?” Kim
was yelling crying.
*5 missed calls from mom*
*3 missed calls from dad*
“My dad called!” “It must be true!” she said excessively crying.
“What are we going to do?”
“James! Talk to me!”
“Please!”
“ I don’t know what to do, where are we even going” She says trying to calm herself.
“I still love you”
*James looking at Kim*
Not realizing he ran a red light.
“Ahhhh!!!!”
*beep beep beep*
“Mr. and Mrs. Kelley”
“Ms. Johnson”
“Mr. Kelley and Mrs. Johnson, I’m so sorry, but she didn’t have her seatbelt on, she didn’t make
it.”
“Oh, no!” “Kimmy!” the mom yells falling to the floor.
The dad standing there, shocked. Embracing his ex-wife.

"The Dream" by Niyah S

          It was quiet at school today. A serial killer murdered a family. We had a moment of silence for them you can hear the quiet sobbing of the ones that knew them. When I got home my parents were quiet it was the regular routine I did homework, ate, got ready for bed. I fell asleep… until I heard the handle on the door jiggle. A man in black with a mask walked in. The light from the hallway was too bright I couldn’t see the mans face. He was holding my mother’s body in his hands. He started to slowly write something on the wall with her blood. I couldn’t read it,  I slowly pretended as if I was sleep. He slowly put my mother down and walked to my bed and went under my bed. I was trying to read it, but I couldn’t. My heart was pumping so fast it was hard to control my breathing. As I was staring at my wall I was slowly able to read it. Finally my eyes adjusted to the darkness it read, “ I know you’re awake…”I felt him move under my bed. There was a silence for what felt like hours, I couldn't move to get my phone or check the time. All I could do was sit there and pray. He started to speak again, " Good morning." The knife pierced the mattress by my head... I woke up screaming, my parents came running in the room trying to calm me down. I looked at my mother, she was breathing and had a worried look on her face, she was alive. My parents tried to calm me down and asked me what was wrong I told them my dream they looked at each other a worried facial expression and said that I didn't have to go to school. Later, that week we were packed up and moving. They told me that dad got a new job that's why we moved, but I know it's because of my dream and what happened in the neighborhood. Weeks went by but the dreams never stopped and every dream he would get closer and closer to killing me. He cut me with a knife One time and when I woke up I was bleeding. I tried to tell my parents but they didn't believe me. I wish they would've believed me. The good thing is that I don't have those dreams anymore, the bad thing is that I miss my mom and dad. But it's OK my nice friend that flies with a circle over his head says that I will see them soon.

"The Little Girl With a Black Dress that Said 'Yes Please'" by Frida V

     Once upon a time, there was a little girl that wore a dress of blood red and shoes of dark black
with steel bottoms that can be heard from about three tall thick oak trees. The little girl carried
no name or knowledge of what she really is or is not. She never thought of that in general and
rather not at all. The little girl was polite and always said “yes please” and thank you” when she
had to. By and by, the little girl went on dragging her feet from the heavy steel bottoms that can
be heard for miles and miles on end with that click clack and screech screech of her little black
shoes being dragged and eventually feeling numb. Her precious white socks turning the same
color of the blood red dress. Her feet was becoming of the color of her little dress as it blistered
like the rose’s thorns she carried for a potion for someone with great power. Carrying books and
potions for the one wizard they call Lady Agony. Lady Agony was a lady of spirits and the spirit
of Hallow Ween forest that greeted and decorated the forest in bright orange and black with
unlucky cats and filthy rats in the path. Lady Agony was a pure sweet woman in her mid-40,000
and only 40,000. It is considered very young. More about Hallow Ween forest is that it's dark
and the fog is thick and feels heavy and even humid that you can only see in the distance the
pumpkins that were carved in no happy smiles but scary grins. Back to her little apprentice in
the red dress. As she was strolling down the dark woods of Halloween forest, she came across
a man that was gentle and sweet, yet he was looking for something to eat. He asked the little
girl, “Why my dear, why must you carry so much, would you let me help you with that?” “Yes
please” the girl responded. With a flash of silver, she was not carrying so much anymore as she
started to quiver of the limb that was just lost and turned into frost. She went on ahead and
stumbled with two lovely and tender woman that towered over the girl that wore the blood red
dress that was made redder from the nice gentlemen. The two sweet ladies with the age of
eighty said to girl as if the they were in tune, “Why my dear, you look to be carrying a lot, would
you let us help you with that?” “Yes please” the girl with a plea responded. With two flashes of
metal and iron and a heavy wind of the ladies with the age of eighty that left with a grin. The little
girl, carrying nothing but the weight of the dress arrives to Lady Agony. “My lady, i have nothing
to give you but what has become of my dress”. Lady Agony stares at her dress and replies, “Is
quite alright my dear, would you let me ease your pain?”. With flashes of silver, metal, iron, and
steel, the little girl with the little black dress said, “Yes Please”.