April Writers Are No Joke!!

Seriously, there's some great writing this month!  Check out the pieces below.

Be sure to read all the new pieces for April, and comment on at least FOUR of them.  (follow the guidelines below, if you've forgotten.  Comments are due on the blog AND in class (hard copy) by April 27.

Remember:
All Students:  Be sure to read the entries for this month.  Everyone is required to comment on at least four 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!

"The Locket" by Miranda S.

A young girl held a golden locket in her hands. She had found it among the scattered leaves on the forest floor, covered with shadows from the immense trees above. The surface of the locket was intricately detailed and seemed to reflect light, despite the darkness. Inside was a faded black and white photo of a lady wearing a simple Victorian dress, her long hair falling over her shoulders, and smiling sweetly. She was beautiful.

     The young girl closed the locket and slipped it over her neck. It was too beautiful to leave behind. Walking home, she crunched her way through the dead leaves and hummed quietly to herself. From the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of movement among the shadows. 

            “Well, hello there,” a voice said behind her. She whipped around to see a beautiful lady calmly staring at her.

            She could only stare at the lady for a moment, shocked by her sudden presence. It immediately dawned on her that this was the lady from the photo. She looked exactly the same, as if the photo was taken only a few minutes ago.

            “Oh, there's no need to be frightened, dear.” The lady smiled politely, taking a few steps forward.

           “Wh-Who are you?” The girl managed to stammer.

            "Well, that's really no concern of yours. What should be is that locket you are wearing around your neck." She paused, looking at it carefully. "You see, that is no ordinary object you wear. That locket possess power, strong enough to have brought me back.” Her grin widened as she smiled broadly. "You, my dear, have awakened the curse."

      The girl backed away slowly, terrified of the clearly insane woman. She glanced down at the locket, now radiating light.

       "My dear, you are the cure to my wretched condition. After all these years of suffering in isolation, I have waited. And now... Now I can be free at last."

            The girl, fearful, began to lift the locket over her head, prepared to run.

            “No!” The lady commanded, her smile gone and voice panicked. “You must let me remove it for you. That is how it must be done.” She smiled politely once again.

            In an instant the young girl was running away as quickly as her legs would let her. But a moment later the lady appeared before her, blocking her way. The look on her face clearly conveyed her anger.

            “I suppose I will have to do this the difficult way then, and force you to it” she hissed.

            The lady lunged toward the girl, her eyes now filled with a threatening black. “Finally, finally... A perfect host,” she murmured to herself. She feverishly gripped the girls hands tightly in her own and closed her eyes. Leaves began to swirl wildly as a tornado formed around them. “Yes!” the lady screeched, the girl nearly unconscious now. “Yes!” And both bodies went limp.

            A few minutes later the girl awakened, her eyes a pure black, and laughed.

"Becoming an 'Adult'” By Sophia B

     If anyone else has had their parent(s) or other adult tell them, “You are eighteen now, you should be acting more like an adult and being more responsible,” then you understand the difficulty and frustration that comes along with turning the joyful age of eighteen. Eighteen is the age where we can buy lottery tickets, legally drive friends, vote, attend jury duty, and be tried as an adult in court. It is also the age where we are expected to make impactful life decisions that can either aid or hinder our future goals. For example, making the decision of what college to attend or to even attend college at all, and choosing what we want to do for the rest of our lives. To our society, the age of eighteen is perceived as a pleasant and memorable time in one’s life in which one will begin a “new chapter” and begin to figure things out. According to Merriam-Webster dictionary, an adult is someone who is fully grown, developed, mature and sensible; meaning that they cannot be childish or show any child-like behavior. Then there are parents and other adults, who believe that at the very first second of our eighteenth birthday we are supposed to magically go through this great transformation into adulthood where we are suddenly able to handle deciding what is an economically advantageous decision to make when choosing what college to attend or what kind of bank account we want. Based on the fact that I do not meet any of the expectations of an adult that our society, sources like Merriam-Webster dictionary, or adults including my parents expect from me as an eighteen year old, I am not an adult.  I may be considered a legal “adult,” but I am in no way ready to act or take on the responsibilities of an adult. Even before I tuned eighteen, my mom would remind me that I was soon going to be an adult so I had to start acting like one, meaning that I had to start doing things on my own. Maybe I am the only one who feels this way, but as soon as my parents recognized me as an individual, what I have desired for the past eighteen years, I felt as if I had been thrown to the wolves. After eighteen years of my parents scheduling everything for me, paying for everything, and pretty much making all my decisions for me, I am now expected to know how to make decisions on my own when I still could not decide, on most days, what shoes I wanted to wear or what to eat for breakfast. On my eighteenth birthday, I was expected to make one of the most important decisions of my life by deciding what college to attend in the fall. It was already overwhelming, and then I began being questioned on what career I wanted to pursue. My response to all of this: “I do not know!” I am still just a kid. I do not know what my future holds and I do not have it all figured out quite yet. Sure, call me an adult, because, yes, I am eighteen years old; however, eighteen is just another number. It does not mean that I am ready to handle being on my own. So, am I really considered an “adult” if I still need the financial help and the personal guidance of my parents? After all of these years of wanting to grow up, I really do not want to grow up anymore.

"An Attempt to Prevent Complacency" by Delia M

Nausea. Sweaty palms. Bags under my eyes that to this day have not gone away. And suddenly, the long monotonous sound of an alarm. The results were in.

I sat outside of the gym with my equally nervous ASB family, attempting some last minute bargaining with some higher omniscient power, promising to become a better person or something in exchange for my position. As if that had ever worked out for me.

And so the process began, as an unnaturally high spirited voice announced the new class officers for 2013 – 2014.

Adrenaline rush. Shock. And then the deflation as I realized my name wasn’t called. I tried to suppress the tears that insisted to materialize. My friends surrounded me to offer their condolences, reassuring me that everything would be okay. And for the most part everything was okay. For the most part.

Running a high school campaign, as trivial as it sounds, and admittedly, is in relation to the grand scheme of things, is one of the most grueling processes I have ever undertaken. I mean realistically, campaigning starts months before an actual election week. I had to spread the word verbally on a weekly basis well before sign-ups for positions even arrived, and believe me, it was incredibly apparent that my peers had virtually no interest in what I had to say. I could actually see their annoyance grow with me as I talked about my upcoming election nonstop, but it was almost impossible for me to stop talking about the one thing that was constantly running through my mind. Anything to get the word out right?

Then came the actual planning of my campaign. Things I was forced to consider include but are not limited to resources, including money, artistic ability, and availability of time, slogans, pop culture references, and of course, differentiation amongst my competitors. All of my ideas were confined to ten posters, one giant banner, six shirts, and unlimited amounts of flyers, pins and ads on social media.

Finally, I went through the actual campaign week which consisted of early morning set up, incessant paranoia, and begging strangers to vote for me. The begging was the absolute worst aspect of this process because people never failed to ask me the one question I wished they wouldn’t. “What are some reasons for why you deserve this position?” How do I even begin to answer that question? Honestly, I don’t. Frankly, I don’t think I deserve anything, I mean really, what makes me so entitled to anything on this earth? But of course I couldn’t say that, so instead I talked about how dedicated and hardworking and awesome I am, and how I promised to improve school events for the upcoming school year. As if it were that simple. As if they actually cared and would actually make the effort to wait in a line to circle my name.

I did everything I was supposed to do, and despite my efforts, I managed to lose my election.

Fast forward to the 2014 – 2015 school elections. The experience remained identical, except this time I actually became a president. ASB president. A middle school dream achieved. How cool.

No, not really. It has its perks, but overall, my year has consisted of dealing with some of the most opinionated and incompetent people I’ve ever met in my entire life. I’ve come to realize that everyone has an agenda, and will try to manipulate you in whatever way is most convenient for them. I’ve had to endure a year in which people blame me for the disappointing school events I said I would improve, when realistically I have absolutely zero influence over how things are actually done at school. But I’ve learned that people aren’t interested in the truth, so I’ve found myself apologizing for decisions that neither ASB students nor I made, simply because it is easier than trying to explain the politics of the education system.

For the longest time, I was under the impression that I wanted to be ASB president. Now, if I had to attend high school for another year, I’m not sure if I would even join the program, much less be president.

And so you see, sometimes what we think we want is actually what ends up hurting us the most. I’ve lost so much of the hope and positivity that existed in my life before I became president. We spend so much time and energy trying to convince ourselves that we’re happier than we really are, and end up being complacent when it comes to the quality of our lives. I encourage everyone to find something that they are passionate about, and to let that passion lead their lives. However, I also urge people to recognize when they exist in less than ideal situations, and to do everything in their power to fix them or remove themselves from them. But that’s just my opinion.  

"Autocannibalism" by Mika O.

 Three forks, now I just need to get the placement right. The small fish fork goes to the left of the dinner fork, and the dinner fork goes to the right of the small salad fork. All of this will go on the right of the plate and the knife arrangement will go on the left. Dear god, if I don’t set my knives the right way again I’ll die of shame; placement is everything.

It’s beautiful: the table, the plating, the way the knives add the slightest bit of danger to the scene, everything. Should I open the window blinds for a soft, natural lighting? Or should I bring the studio lights in and dark out the rest of the room for a harsh, dramatic effect? A delicate, window lighting would be more artistic but studio lights would be blunt, I choose the latter: a dramatic setting for a bold statement, I love it.

Six o’clock, right on the dot. The Opioid should be in full effect right now, but I’ll check before I begin, as planned. A small slice between my fingers will do it. And… nothing, I feel nothing. What can I expect from the dosage I took anyways, it should’ve been enough to kill me. Though I’d like to say that there’s now a pinching feeling between my ring and middle finger, it’s probably just all in my head. Maybe I should have taken a cue from “The Survivor Type” and used cocaine instead, I laugh at this idea.

I can finally begin. A new film roll is loaded into the camera and set down on the granite countertop next to an empty wine glass and a tray of ice. My fingers glide down an arrangement of knives that aren’t photo worthy, feeling the steel of each santoku blade before I find the one I had sharpened the night before. Deep breaths, I can feel my heart pounding despite my complete self-assurance in this decision. I sit in the chair placed in front of my counter and rub my hand up and down the top of my thigh, feeling exactly what needs to be removed to avoid blood loss too quickly. I grab the knife and hold it an angle mid thigh, my grip is firm. One piece is all I need. I take one last moment to envision exactly how I want the slab to be plated, red meat up, next to a wine glass of crimson fluid; the color will show up tastefully on camera. I’m ready. I watch as if someone else’s hand pushes down on the blade, and as it begins to force it’s way under my skin I hope to myself that it will taste as good as it’s going to look.

"Best Family Memories" by Idalys M

Have you ever just sat there and thought about the most screwed up things that have taken place in your life? Ha. Yeah that’s what I am doing right now… So much fun.

When I look back at my life growing up, the memories that have taken place in my house have always popped up first. Sadly, they aren’t the happy ones. Let’s take a trip down memory lane.

Running into the family room to see my dad and uncle assisting her up the stairs. Thinking it was all fun and games, I acted as if I was a person who directed planes ready for takeoff, telling them where to go. She is such a mess right now. Why isn’t she making any sense right now? Hmm weird.

As time went on, I found out what was really going on with her. She thinks it is okay to just walk around the house like this while my friends are over. What is her problem? Acting like such a fool in front of 9 year olds… stupid drunk. Like who in their right mind would decide to go water the cement then try running slightly after causing herself to fall and break her leg. What would make this situation better? Her doing it while I have company over… My friends must think she’s insane.

My baby sister is now here. Great, she’s going to have to grow up with the same crap I’ve dealt with. I don’t want this for her at all.

How lovely, I’m just lying in my bed watching TV when BAM I hear a loud bang and yelling. Of course! It’s my drunk grandmother arguing with my father… just to make it worst… she swung on my dad completely miss and hit my 2 year old sister. What a wonderful family memory I have here.

Because of her stupid mistakes, my father has to pay… she kicked him out of “her” house… as if she pays the bills here. Since that is one less adult here to help with her, looks like it’s time for this 12 year old to grow up and take some responsibility.

My mom is working late tonight and I have a feeling like something is up. I go downstairs to investigate and what do I find? My drunken grandmother passed out on the couch looking like a slob. She has food everywhere and can’t even make it into her mouth… what is wrong with her?! It’s absolutely disgusting…Oh hey, there is a bottle right there. Let me grab it while she is asleep and dump it down the drain. As I reached for it, she awakes from her drunken slumber. She realizes what I am doing and decides to chase me down and pin me up against the wall and fight me until I give her the bottle. Good thing my roommate was home to help get this mad woman off me. Like who does that? Attacks their own granddaughter for a bottle of vodka.

Damn... just a few wonderful memories I always look back on and my grandma wonders why I look at her with disgust. Too bad she doesn’t remember any of the pain, physically and mentally, she has caused me. 

"The Village People of Pasadena" By: Melissa G

Screeeeeeeeeeeeech!

*Whew…just missed them.

SLAM!!!

*Alright, collect yourself. What do I do? That’s right…the yellow triangle…alright…now get over.

A train of cars with flashing yellow lights pulled off to the side. Seven looks of disdain exited five cars. The first belonged to a man with legs any woman would be jealous of. Waxed with the utmost precision to show off the khaki FedEx uniform.

*Wow…can teeth even be that white? The only thing more blinding is that overly upbeat personality. Seriously dude, we get it…you stopped quickly to avoid an accident. Tell that to the four cars behind you.

After Ken came Ike and Tina, closing their doors to everything but their current argument. Tina and her fro had never been in an accident before and were understandably upset. Ike however seemed indifferent, listening to his music rocking his fisherman hat back and forth.

*Yeah, yeah, yeah I get it Tina…32 years old and you’ve never been in an accident. Just keep rolling…rolling.

Silent Gandhi followed Ike and Tina. Pleated slacks and aftershave were the only noticeable aspects of Gandhi. He didn’t speak a single word. He didn’t have to speak, as the next face out of the next car did enough talking for all seven village people.

 Hair-brained Mother Theresa stepped onto the scene. I say this only because that is definitely the description she would have given herself. Well, the Mother Theresa part at least. She was the yacker…the Chihuahua of the group. Never has anyone heard someone say more that something wasn’t their fault. The innocent one of the bunch who was overly concerned with keeping an already calm bunch calm.

*If I hear her say, “Alright everyone has the same story right? I stopped in time and didn’t hit anyone and everyone knows that. I’m so glad everyone is calm and knows that I am not at fault,” one more time I’ll jump into moving traffic.

As if Ken, Ike, Tina, Gandhi, and Mother Theresa weren’t enough excitement for one night, Miley exited her car and entered the scene. Although on her way back from spring break, Miley was quite the calm one. She was more Miley circa 2006 than 2015 Miley. She tirelessly apologized for being the 70mph caboose that gave us all a big jolt.

*I’m sorry…did you say Adrianna’s Insurance? Is that a real insurance company? …Oh God,…my car is never getting fixed.

Red and Blue flashing lights appeared. Chuck Norris exited his car and told the village people to get off the next exit safely and pull into the parking lot of the local YMCA. He made the village people line up in train car order so he could get an accurate assessment of what went on that night. First of course was Upbeat Ken, then Quarreling Ike and Tina, Silent Gandhi, Yacking Mother Theresa, then 2006 Miley. That makes six…seven including myself. Where was I in the lineup you might ask? …Yep…standing next to my yacking mother.

“'Significant Other' Advice" by Madi C

One day, you will fall under complete infatuation with someone. They will tell you everything you want to hear. You will succumb to the beauty in their words.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I cannot live without you.”

They will say.

You will be young, naïve, untouched, unloved, and because of this, in that very moment you will believe what they say. Why would you have any reason not to? Just because they touch your skin once does not imply they mean what they say. They will hide behind the façade of their beautiful words they once spoke to you, just long enough for you to believe that they will be there forever.  When in reality, all they desire is to fool you long enough to smell the scent of your sheets.

They will leave.

They will absolutely leave.  You will be blind-sighted because you believed the lies they so beautifully strung together.  They will leave and you will be perfectly fine in this world without them. You’re going to think this is the worst thing that has ever happened to you and that the world is over. You’re going to think that you’re never going to be capable of loving again; or worse, no one will love you again. But you couldn’t be more wrong. The world goes on; your tears will stop falling.  You will no longer look tired or feel empty.

Faster than you think, that person you thought you couldn’t live without will be someone you can’t stand to see, hear, or think about.

There are seven billion people in this world. Cut that into pieces to narrow down the gender(s) you’re interested in, age, language, type… and so on.

That still leaves you with, let’s say, a billion people in this world to choose from.

There are a billion other people in this world who have the potential to love you so much that their bones ache.  A billion sets of lips to kiss, a billion pairs of hands to hold, a billion pairs of eyes to fall in love with, a billion sets of arms to be wrapped up in.

There are seven billion sets of lungs in this world, one of those seven billion being yours. That one person who took your breath away will not even compare to the one you will find that will remind you to breathe.

That being said, don’t let that one person who broke your heart that one time take from who you are now, and who will you will be in the future.

Do not allow that one person to continue to manipulate you even when they are no longer in your life.

Do not allow that one person to continue to manipulate you into thinking that everyone will be like them.

It sure as hell won’t be easy, but you’re a fighter. Happiness is locked deep inside of us all. The key to that happiness is locked inside of your fist, tucked beneath your scraped, bloodied knuckles. Remind yourself: your fight is almost over.  You will let that happiness out.

Do not allow that one person to continue to manipulate you into thinking you’d rather not feel. Sometimes, it hurts to feel. I know this firsthand, but I also know that it is so much worse to be numb. Let your heart throb against your ribs.

Happiness is locked deep inside of us all.

Especially in you.

Don’t let one, in seven billion, lead you to believe otherwise.

"The Heartbroken Orphan" By Kenzie M.

My name is Avery and I'm an orphan. I've been in and out of foster care and adoption homes my whole life. Foster care is a terrible place and I’m dying to get out. I was abused by one of my foster parents and I have been through so much counseling to get over it. That happened when I was younger but now I'm 17 and my birthday is in a month. Once you turn 18 you are kicked out of the system and have to live on your own. Although I hate this place and would do anything to get out I don't have any family I know of or a place to stay so, I'm determined to find my parents. I saved my money and found a man who specializes in finding family members. I gave him all my information and he located my parents in just a few days. They had moved to Delaware after leaving me at the adoption center 16 years before. I called my parents and my mom picked up, I explained who I was and she apologized for leaving me and said she wanted to meet me. She had the same story as every other mother who gives a kid up for adoption, she was young and dumb and could never be a good parent. I could care less now, because all I wanted to do was meet them. I got on a plane the next day and the day after that I would finally meet the ones who gave me life.  After arriving in Delaware and getting to my hotel room I was so excited, scared, nervous and every other emotion to meet them. To settle my mind I turned on the news, it was all boring until the breaking news came on about a huge car crash not far from my hotel. Then to my horror I saw my parents’ name flash on the screen. My whole world was crushed, I came so close to finally meeting my parents and now it was over. They were instantly killed in the crash. My mom and dad, the ones I waited all my life to see and now I couldn’t. I didn't know what to do with myself. I just stared at the TV, then it finally hit me and I started balling. Now I was a true orphan and I never felt more alone in my life.

"King Capital" by Jullian R

In Brooklyn a boy was born, whose life dream was to spread a message, but that message was lost in his life of tragedy.  This boys name was Capital who grew up in New York and early in life he was witness to crimes, which was life in his neighborhood. Capital even lost his father to crime early in his life; so early he had a troubled life. Even with all these tragedies, he had music to help.

By the time Capital was in his teens he took music seriously, mainly rap he devoted his time learning the art and eventually mastering it. Capital had a different mind set then many people, he was infatuated with the number 47 which is an angelic number meaning peace and balance, mind you he was in high school so not a lot of people understood him and felt he was crazy.  Even though this didn’t have a lot of friends he had enough to call family. His small number of fiends all enjoyed to rap so they would freestyle and record on there free time, but they then took it seriously and made themselves a well known rap group in the area lead by capital.  One Capital’s best friend was actually of fan of Capitals music his name was Joey. Joey then became a prominent member of the Rap group.

Capital’s rap group started to catch attention with Capital’s message of peace and balance.  All the people in the group were talented, but the two that stood out were Capital and Joey. Capital took Joey under his wing and formed a big brother role for him. Joey then became better and better and started catching more attention from people and record deals. While Capital was still loved by many people, he really didn’t get as much attention as his partner. This really made Capital feel unwanted, but he was still happy for his friend.  Capital then continued to spread the message of peace and balance. At the time there was a deal going on with a record label and they were considering signing Joey and Capital, this was the chance Capital was looking for to spread his message on a bigger scale. The record label ended up signing Joey and not Capital. This devastated him, once again in his life he felt lost.

The deal was the straw that broke the camels back, to Capital felt he lost the chance to show the world what was most important to him. So on a cold December night, he climbed the record studio building that had rejected him. As he looked down on the bright beautiful city, moon lit in the distance and bible clinched in his hands tight, then as if time slowed down Capital walked to the ledge contemplating his next move. Capital closed his eyes knowing these were his final moments; he then jumped and took his life. A final note was found atop the building saying “The end.”

"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.