Editor-in-Chief:
Aurora Zhang
Art Design: Sharon Park
Staff:
Cherie Lin
Audrey Yan
Stephanie Yoon
Writing Advisor:
Brenda Rosé
Art Advisor: Cindi Sweet
Coordinator:
Kriss Hayward
The King’s Academy
Student-Produced
Literary Magazine
Aperture Magazine
©2012
editor’s note
Welcome to The King’s Academy’s first
schoolwide literary magazine!
The King’s Academy literary magazine was
created as a way for artists, photographers,
and writers to display their God-given
abilities. From images of seas and oceans
to a dazzling moment on a ballet stage,
from dragonfiles and flowers to a lonely
house of forgotten hopes, the young
artists, photographers, and writers here at
TKA have explored through a myriad of
creative avenues to express their talents.
We hope that you can peer into the apertures of creativity opened by our students
in these pages. Enjoy.
The Editors
table of CONTENTS
[prose]
The House of Doors | Helen Li, 9th Grade
6
Daniel in the Lion’s Den: The Lion’s Story |
Kari Bergstedt, 8th Grade
18
Sweet Sugarplum Success | Meghan Leong, 9th Grade
22
My Swing | Melissa Kim, 11th Grade
25
Why My Little Pony is So Popular | Julian Shaw, 9th Grade
28
Success | Jonathan Kong, 11th Grade
11
The Waves of the World | Esther Kuiper, 9th Grade
12
The Man Not Taken | Peter Zhao, 12th Grade
12
A Stressful Poem | Kristina Hsieh, 12th Grade
15
Bad Aim | Rachel McIntyre, 12th Grade
17
Nature in the City | Brianna Izuno, 11th Grade
17
Christmas Feast To-Go | Russell Chang, 6th Grade
30
[poetry]
[art]
4
6
Untitled | Carolyn Boccignone, 11th Grade
9
Tiger | Takeru Wen-Matsui, 8th Grade
9
Untitled | Matthew Kwong, 7th Grade
13
Reflections | Cherie Lin, 10th Grade
14
Lighthouse | Joshua Yi, 12th Grade
16
Robert Downey Jr. | Joshua Yi, 12th Grade
25
Butterfly Girl | Emily Sunderland, 8th Grade
30
Clay Sculptures | Zechariah Weils, 8th Grade
31
Untitled | Megan Jow, 6th Grade
31
Maze | Emily Wagner, 7th Grade
31
Untitled | Lindsey Kaemingk, 7th Grade
Vi Bui, 11th Grade
5
Johanna Kuiper, 7th Grade
9
Danielle Hong, 7th Grade
9
Aileen Saboff, 12th Grade
10
Beverly Wisler, 10th Grade
20
Milan Loiacono, 10th Grade
26
Esther Bartlett, 11th Grade
27
Ashlyn Murphy, 8th Grade
31
[photography]
Photography by
Vi Bui
11th Grade
Opera singer Song Zuying
performs in Europe
5
The House of
M
Doors
By Helen Li,
9th Grade
y life revolves around one thing: The House of Doors. For every day in my life, I am doomed to continue
watching The House of Doors, ensuring the safety and sanity of the human race. My great-grandmother
was the first caretaker. The job was passed down to my mother, and one day, it will be inherited by
me. The House of Doors cannot be torn down. It cannot be abandoned or crushed or sunken, for if it is
destroyed, all of mankind’s greatest desires, goals, and dreams will go along with it. The humankind will cease to
grow. This is because The House of Doors holds your deepest desires. You see, every single man, woman, and child
has a room in The House of Doors. Inside their room is their greatest wish or desire. The House of Doors actually
6
looks like an abandoned
mansion sitting atop
a blackened hill with
a big iron gate in the
front and caution tape
along the side. Mother
and I sleep in the lobby
because it is too dangerous to sleep upstairs.
We go into town once a
month to buy any food
or supplies, but other
than that, we are virtually hermits.
Mother and I are funded
by the government. We
could leave this wretched place and enter
society once more, but
to do that would be to
doom the entire race
to a future of nothingness. Eventually, some
onlooker would push
open the rusted gates of
The House of Doors, kick
open the rotten front
door, and find his room.
There’d be nobody there
to stop him. Once he
finds his door, he’ll open
it, and suddenly, he’ll
never be able to leave
his paradise. And then,
more people will come
to their rooms and never
go away, for the temptation of staying in a room
where your greatest
desires are waiting is too great of a
gift for man to leave. What greedy,
salivating creatures we are.
My job for now is to explore
what’s behind the doors. Mother
says it will help me with my future,
being the heir to The House of Doors
and all. Frankly, I’m not too excited,
but I have a duty to fulfill, so everyday, I take a few supplies with me,
kiss my Mother goodbye, and go
explore any room I want. The doors
shift every night. Sometimes, if I stay
up late, I can hear creaks and groans
upstairs. Mother says that’s the
doors changing places with others.
My mother has shut our two doors
with bells, duct tape, and boards.
That way, we won’t be sucked into
what we call bliss without the alert
of another.
Today is just like any other
day. I recheck my supplies and give
Mother a kiss on the cheek before
going up a creaking staircase and
into a clean, dimly lit hallway. The
contrast between the upstairs and
downstairs is unsettling. I choose a
door right across from me and turn
the knob, its cool surface freezing
my clammy hands.
I’m sometimes nervous
when I open the doors. The rooms
aren’t exactly scary, but they do
cause me a lot of anticipation.
Sometimes, I open a door to find
a great Thanksgiving feast laid out
with butlers waiting everywhere. I
would later find out that there’s a
young woman out there who’s never
had a true meal. I leave sad. Once,
I opened a door to find a great red
car piled with pretty girls waiting
and laughing. I then found out
from the girls that there’s a man out
there who simply wants a better car,
because he already has everything
else. I leave that room angry and
irritated. Everyday is new, so when
I open this door to a beautiful field
with a cloudless blue sky and singing birds, I’m not surprised.
Behind me, the door is
simply a door with no wall. Only two
hinges connected to nothing. The air
is crisp, like that first bite you take of
a deliciously ripe apple. The grass is
like soft velvet and the breeze is not
too cold. There’s a pink farmhouse
to my right and a broad, lazy river to
my left. In front of me are an old lady
and a young man, sitting on a red
and white checkered picnic blanket.
The old woman looks like she’s in
her eighties, but her face lights up
when she sees me. She has piercing
blue eyes and wears a purple floral
dress that falls just above her ankles.
Her white hair is short and curly, and
I can’t see a hint of jewelry on her.
Also, curiously, she wears no shoes.
The man, however, looks like he’s
in his twenties. He has a green shirt
and blue jeans that are bunched
around his angles. His disheveled
brown hair looks like it has been recently ruffled. Unlike the old lady, he
has on brown sandals. He’s really fit,
too, with muscled arms and toned
features.
“Oh! You’re here,” the lady
says pleasantly, “You’re not Ellen, but
do take a seat. It’s been so long since
we’ve had a visitor. Call me Nanny.
This is P.J.”
“Nice to meet you,” P.J. says
gruffly. He gives me a good pat
on the back and lets me sit down.
Nanny reaches into her picnic basket
and hands us all sandwiches and
lemonade.
“Hi,” I say, making myself
comfortable, “Who’s Ellen?”
“Oh, my granddaughter,”
Nanny replies, “She was the joy of
my life. My real soul is in Heaven
somewhere, I hope, but for now,
I wait here. Ellen’s making do, of
course. Trying to make a living for
herself until her good ol’ brother P.J.
comes home from the war.”
“The war?” I ask, eating my
sandwich. It’s made with real cheese,
a real treat in our home. Mother and
I usually just eat canned or frozen
food.
“I’m currently fighting in
Afghanistan. We need the money,
especially with the way our parents
are right now. I’ll be coming back
to Ellen soon, though. Trust me.” P.J.
7
“ If I stay here, I am opening millions and millions of doors for
people, but once those doors close, another cannot be opened.
I am the key to a prison cell.”
leans back on his arms and squints at
the sun.
“Where, exactly, is Ellen?” I
ask.
“In New York. You can imagine how crowded she feels. That’s
why she wants to be here.” P.J.
gestures to nothing in particular. I
suspect he’s talking about the vast
ocean of greenery before me. It
seems to stretch on forever. A girl
could get used to this. Nanny notices
that we’ve all finished our food. She
packs the garbage into her basket.
“My Ellen is so beautiful,”
Nanny sighs, “I miss her dearly.” She
places a weathered hand on mine
and smiles at me. Nanny’s hand is
warm and inviting. Her skin is surprisingly warm, and I can’t help but
feel a pang in the pit of my stomach.
I wish I had a grandmother to smile
at me when I’m sad. I wish I had a
brother like P.J. who would sacrifice
anything for me. The three of us sit in
a straight line and gaze at the sweeping grass, their little green heads
swaying with the breeze. Nanny slips
her thin, frail arm over my shoulders.
“I know my Ellen will never
come,” Nanny says sadly when the
silence becomes too long, “She will
never be here, and that makes me
sad. I wish she could enjoy this paradise, for real.”
“Ellen’s stuck in New York.
The money from the army won’t be
enough to move away,” P.J. admits, “I
wish there were something I could
to. Ellen is the kind of person who
deserves to be happy.
“And child, you are too.” Nan-
8
ny turns to me and smiles sadly, “You
are so much like my granddaughter.
Same brown hair. Same kind eyes,
but you’re sad, too. So very sad because you know that what lies ahead
for you is not what you want. You are
no Ellen. Nobody could ever replace
her, but you two are so alike. It would
make me happy, you know, if you
stayed. P.J. and I would be so happy.”
I am, to say the least,
shocked. None of the people I’ve met
behind the doors have ever wished
me to stay before. Often, they simply
wish me the best of luck and say
goodbye. I stare at Nanny, whose
weathered face is so tired and sad. Finally, I see the life behind these two
people behind the doors. Forever,
they will wait for a girl who will never
come. They shall sit in the grass and
eat sandwiches and talk forever and
ever until Ellen dies. And then what?
Most likely, they’ll just fade away,
never meeting the one person they
lived for. What a sad life, to give yourself to one you love who does not
even know you exist. I feel tempted
to stay with Nanny and P.J. I have no
future in The House of Doors. I will
not be happy. I will not be content.
I will simply be carrying out a duty.
When will I ever get to do something
on my own?
But then, I remember Mother, and how she was also forced with
the title of the caretaker. What will
happen when she dies? Will someone really come in and stay forever?
Is that truly the outcome if I do what
I want? People say that when one
door closes, another one opens, but
is that true? If I stay here, I am opening millions and millions of doors for
people, but once those doors close,
another cannot be opened. I am the
key to a prison cell.
“I can’t,” I say, my voice cracking. I gently push Nanny’s arm off my
shoulders. “Really, I wish I could, but
no. I can’t. I’m so sorry.”
“I thought you’d say no,”
P.J. mutters sadly. His eyes are cast
downward, but he helps me up from
my position and gives me another
rough pat on the back.
“You truly are like Ellen,”
Nanny says. She places her two
hands on my shoulders and smiles, “I
know you are not happy, but thank
you so much.” Nanny gives me a kiss
on the forehead and gently lets her
hands fall. I nod, too afraid to speak,
and turn around, letting the door
swallow me back into reality. The
trickling of the river and the smell of
the grass fades away, and a musty
hotel odor replaces my senses. Home
sweet home. I close the door behind
me and gaze at the decrepit hotel
hallway before me. I force myself to
leave, but not before silently slipping
a forest green DO NOT DISTURB sign
around the doorknob.
People say that when one
door closes, another door opens,
but when I close a door, a thousand
more shut along with it. •
gallery
tiger
Acrylic on Canvas
Painting by
Takeru Wen-Matsui
8th Grade
Photography by
Johanna Kuiper, 7th Grade
Digital Art: Vector Illustration
Drawn by
Matthew Kwong
7th Grade
Photography by
Danielle Hong, 7th Grade
9
dragonfly
Photography by
Aileen Saboff
12th Grade
10
I feel as if my life is a mess
And there’s no way to get out of this stress
I can’t seem to satisfy myself
Because I can’t seem to reach success on the
shelf
I don’t think I get the good grades
And my hopes fall like the cascades
I feel as if I have no talent
I can never make myself feel gallant
I feel as if I’m useless to the world
And I mourn as I lay down curled
I don’t think it’s going to be better as days go by
At least it just seems to be, but I wonder why
Why do I have to care so much?
These things I worry can’t even touch
The success I yearn for can’t last long
And it can’t give me happiness so strong
God is proud of me the way I am
So is there a need to hit the grand slam?
God loves me, so what’s there to bother?
He is my Lord, my Savior, and my Father
I don’t need to concern about my status
For someday it’s going to be hung on a lattice
I just need to hold on to my God
So I can feel a joy so broad
Success
by Jonathan Kong
11th Grade
11
By Esther Kuiper, 8th grade
Walking along the water’s edge,
I try to hold on to my dignity.
I feel like the Earth is full of haters
While all I do is live in the world of humanity.
Stepping into the ocean waves,
I am blinded by what the world sees.
Falling into the hands of evildoers,
I do not realize GOD is reaching out to me.
Swimming from the world I know,
The waters around me rise.
They rise above my head and drown me.
GOD is waiting for my cries.
Dying in the waves of the world,
I gain my balance on a rock that was always there.
GOD separates me from the waters,
But I still think that life isn’t fair.
I hold onto the rock
But want to be in the far off water.
My choice should be easy,
Yet I deny I am HIS son or daughter.
Taking a leap into the current,
Plunging into the depths of death, I shout
“I was wrong,” and take a look back.
And to all who are lost, GOD reaches out.
In this world of chaos,
we all seem to find
a place of peace,
a calm of mind.
In times of stress,
we do not find
that place of peace
that calm of mind.
Soothing sounds or calming waters
Flowers, hills, trees, or skies.
Tranquility is oh so sweet
Chaotic moments say “goodbyes”.
Chaos takes over,
in times of stress.
negativity settles in
and makes a mess.
Or, that’s what we hope that’s what we think.
But is it so, in reality?
No! In chaos - we shrivel and sink.
And that’s what’s happened
in this poem of strife.
Stress stress stress
made stanzas three through five.
Soothing sounds last only so long
Flowers bring an uncomfortable sneeze
Water - wet, hills - meh,
Trees, skies, what next? a breeze?
12
A Stressful Poem
by Kristina Hsieh
12th Grade
Digital Painting
Art by
Cherie Lin
10th Grade
13
Digital Painting
Joshua Yi, 12th Grade
Digital Art
Joshua Yi, 12th Grade
14
15
Robert
Downey
Jr.
16
Pencil Sketch
Joshua Yi, 12th Grade
This summer, Cupid looked on down
And said, “Something’s wrong in that town.
There’s too much peace, and too much quiet.”
So bored little Cupid planned a riot
When autumn began, he was ready to go
With twenty-one arrows, a smile, and his bow.
One landed on her, one landed on him.
On some, he missed, so that turned out grim. By Rachel McIntyre
Darting around like a crazed, psycho fiend,
12th Grade
No one was out of his reach, it seemed.
Aphrodite, at last, called down to her son,
“CUPID! You FOOL! Just look what you’ve done!!!”
Bad Aim
poetry
Nature in the City
By Brianna Izuno, 11th Grade
The first is cool, but the latter is beautiful.
Nothing can compare with being able to see the whole city from one third story roof.
No drab, dime-a-dozen high rise corporate buildings, but rather facades that have stood for
centuries.
Maybe if I look up at the darkening blue sky, imagine it is a little later in the evening (for
night is not always dark in Paris),
and turn up the music in my ears, I can let my mind take a leap over the Atlantic pond.
Back into Paris, not just a nostalgic image ofthe city, but a living, breathing memory.
There is no need to look down, thecobblestones make themselves evident beneath my feet.
The millennium old life of the city embraces me like an old friend.
Turns up the corners of my mouth and alerts my olfactory senses to the nearby cafe for a
late night nibble.
The crisp air leads me to pull a scarf a little tighter around my neck.
But my hands find nothing, and it is reality that rushes back in - not the wind.
The illusion fades, and I glance up at the sky one last time.
With a sigh I put my head back down to finish out the day.
Any rhyme or reason for returning to my regularly scheduled life is tied up in the dream of
returning to my beloved Paris,
so I don’t let the smile fall from my face.
17
Daniel in the Lion’s Den: The Lion’s Story
by Kari Bergstedt, 8th grade
T
he dying rays of sunlight
slowly filtered in from the
mouth of the den, casting
shadows on the dozing lions
sheltered in the shade. Iljun
raised his massive head and
gazed out at the rest of his
pride.
We can’t last much longer. How many
sunrises had it been since their last meal?
Soon, he knew, they would begin to lose the
weaker cubs. The lionesses’ coats had lost
their luster, and the ribs of the young ones were
showing through.
Iljun started in surprise as a young cub
rubbed against his side. Jasiri. He was particularly fond of this cub, and it pained him to see
the young lion so hungry.
The cub’s amber eyes burned with a
question. When is our meal coming?
Soon, Iljun promised. He could guarantee no such thing, but he couldn’t bear to tell the
cub the truth about how much longer they might
have to wait. Everything depended on the humans. The same humans who let them starve.
Tonight, he specified. Fury filled the older lion’s body. The humans had no right to hold
back food from them. If they didn’t eat tonight,
they would leave the den and find their own
food.
Tonight! He could see the hope that appeared in Jasiri’s eyes. Tonight, they would eat.
Iljun roared. The den walls vibrated with
the rich noise, promising the pride that their
hunger would soon end.
18
Tonight. Tonight. Tonight! The rumbling
voices of the pride formed an eerie chant. Evening had set in, and they prowled around the
mouth of the den, watching and waiting.
Then the noise began. Human voices
slowly came into earshot, coming closer and
closer to the den. The lions yowled in triumph,
for they knew what the voices meant. The
humans were coming. Tonight, indeed, they
would eat.
The voices became even louder, and
slowly the stone covering the entrance to the
den was pushed away. Feline eyes stared intently at the opening, glinting in expectation.
“Daniel, called Belteshazzar, step forth.
You are condemned to a night in the lion’s den
as punishment for violating the king’s decree.”
The portly man announced the fate of the
elderly figure standing beside him, flanked by
guards.
“Farewell, Daniel. May your God, whom
you serve continually, rescue you!” A new figure, the king, spoke to the man, his voice filled
with anguish. And then the soldiers roughly
shoved the elderly man through the mouth of
the den, pushing the stone back to cover the
entrance. It slid into place with a resounding
clang.
Daniel scrambled to his feet and turned
towards the hungry lions, a flash of fear showing in his eyes. Then he raised his eyes upward, lips moving in a silent prayer. Peace
settled across his features, all traces of fear
erased. He faced the pride and waited for his
fate.
Iljun snarled triumphantly and stepped
toward the man. This prey was different from
usual. He remained quiet and steady, not
screaming or shaking like most of the other
humans Iljun had seen.
No matter. Prey was prey, and Iljun
leapt forward, ready to knock Daniel down—
only to find that his jaws would not open. Con
“Daniel, servant of the living God, has
fused, he stepped back. What was going on?
your God, whom you serve continually, been
Suddenly, a shining white light filled the
able to rescue you from the lions?”
den. Iljun and the pride howled in pain, blinded Daniel replied, a smile breaking over
by its brilliance.
his face. “O king, live forev
Slowly, the light took shape “Tentatively, Jasiri
er! My God sent his angel,
until it formed a massive, pearly
and he shut the mouths of the
stole
forward
and
lion. It stalked toward the pride
lions. They have not hurt me,
laid down beside
until it was facing Iljun.
because I was found innocent
You will not harm this man. Daniel, brushing
in his sight. Nor have I ever
And Iljun instantly knew that this
done any wrong before you, O
his
fur
against
the
lion was the dominant one. Its
king.”
words rang with an unearthly pow- man’s coat. Daniel
The lions watched as Daner, its pelt shimmering like flames.
iel was pulled out of the den.
smiled
weakly
at
the
He bowed his head. Great
Iljun was satisfied, knowing
One, my pride must eat. The huge cub and raising his they had obeyed the Great
lion followed his gaze as he looked head to the heavens, White Lion. Still his belly
around at his starving kin.
rumbled with hunger, but he
praising
his
God.”
I know, Iljun. Trust me. You
remembered the lion’s words.
will not harm this man, but you will eat well to
And they were made true. A few hours
morrow. Iljun knew that the lion spoke the truth, later, several men along with their families
and he stepped back in acceptance.
were thrown into their den. The famished pride
One lioness stepped forward, snarling in immediately pounced upon them and finally had
anger. She could not be denied food any longer their feast.
and didn’t care what this unearthly creature had
to say.
For generations later, Iljun, Jasiri, and
The great white lion turned, facing the
their successors would purr the story of the
lioness. His body shook as a tremendous roar
Great White Lion and the feast of the pride into
burst from his throat, causing the walls to tremthe ears of their cubs. But for even more years,
ble and the lioness to be thrown from her feet.
the human mothers would tell their wide-eyed
There was no anger in his eyes, just complete
children the story of Daniel in the Lion’s Den.•
and utter power. The pride crouched down in
submission.
The lion shone brighter and brighter,
again blinding the creatures until he was
gone.
The pride stood, still dumb with
shock. Tentatively, Jasiri stole forward
and laid down beside Daniel, brushing his
fur against the man’s coat. Daniel smiled
weakly at the cub and raising his head to the
heavens, praising his God.
Morning dawned, and once again
human voices floated down into the den.
The lions circled protectively around Daniel,
growling in response to the noise. Then the
king’s anxious voice was heard.
19
20
the
deep
blue sea.
Photography by
Beverly Wisler
10th Grade
21
by Meghan Leong, 9th Grade
Kristina skipped through the
swinging doors to the dance studio,
and glanced up at the beautiful Nutcracker poster.
“Hey Kristina!” her best friend
Tiffany chirped, “What are you auditioning for?”
“The Sugarplum Fairy, of
course!” Kristina’s eyes sparkled, “I
can’t wait!”
“I heard Julie is auditioning for that
also,” Claire, Kristina’s other friend,
said. She motioned to where a
blonde girl whispering earnestly to
Hayley. The blond looked up and
shot a death glare at Kristina.
Kristina groaned, “I’ll never
get it! She’s one of the best dancers
in our school!”
Claire nudged her, “So are
you!”
Ms. Isabel, the dance instructor
clapped her hands and said, “To the
barre, girls!” Tiffany whispered to
Kristina, “I think you’re a better dancer than Julie.”
“Thanks Tiff, but it’s up to
Ms. Isabel to decide,” Kristina replied
gratefully.
Ms. Isabel’s voice rang over the
music, “Plié, port de bras, arm to
second, repeat, then relevé, balance.” Kristina let the music flow over
her and tried to dance with a fluid
feel. The girls then put on their pointe
shoes.
“Okay girls, I want to talk
about the auditions for the Nutcracker,” Ms. Isabel announced. The girls
right away began to chatter excitedly
amongst themselves. Kristina’s heart
was beating a mile a minute.
Ms. Isabel shushed the exuberant girls and continued, “Remember the last routine I taught you?”
The girls nodded.
“That was the Waltz of the
22
Flowers. It’s one
of the dances in
the Nutcracker.
It will be used
for the audition,
so make sure
you know it well.
Auditions will be
next Saturday at
nine A.M. sharp. You will be divided
into groups of four and I will choose
your role based on your audition. I
will post the groups in the lobby.”
The girls began to chatter
breathlessly again. Kristina visualized
herself in the beautiful Sugarplum
Fairy costume that glittered and sparkled at every turn.
The rest of class was a blur.
Kristina wasn’t paying attention because her heart was set on the role
of the Sugarplum Fairy. Finally, she
vaguely heard Ms. Isabel say, “Thank
you girls. Class dismissed. Remember, auditions are next Saturday!”
Kristina tapped Tiffany on the
shoulder, “What role do you want?”
“Oh, I want the Columbine
doll! You know, the one that dances with the Harlequin guy doll and
comes out of the box that Uncle
Drosselmeyer brings to the party?”
“Yeah,” Claire clapped her
hands, “I want to be Clara.”
“Wow!” Kristina exclaimed,
“That’s really awesome! See you
guys next week!”
On her way out, Kristina
accidentally stepped on Julie’s dance
bag in her haste.
“Watch where you’re going!”
Julie snapped.
“Sorry,” Kristina stammered.
Kristina was determined to get the
Sugarplum Fairy part. She would
do more exercises and come to the
studio to practice the routines every
day! A thousand thoughts raced
through her head as she thought of
more ways to improve her technique.
Finally, Kristina chastised herself,
One day at a time.
Kristina went to the dance studio
every day after school to practice
the routine with Claire and Tiffany.
By Friday, she felt ready and more
confident. Kristina recalled the talk
she had with her mother the other
day and felt encouraged.
Her mother had told her,
“You know, don’t be too stressed
about the auditions. What counts is
that you try your best. Dance from
your heart because it’s your passion.”
Those comforting words
echoed in her mind as she fell
asleep.
As weak rays of sunlight peeked
through the dark clouds that were
gathering at the horizon, Kristina sat
in her mom’s car, fiddling with a stray
strand of her dark chestnut hair. Kristina’s mom eyed her.
“You’ll do fine. I know you
will,” Mom assured her.
“I hope,” Kristina said softly.
Julie’s sure to get the part of the
Sugarplum Fairy, Kristina thought
glumly. She shook her head to clear
her thoughts, Stop it! I know I can do
it. I have to focus on trying my best
and worry about Julie.
Mom’s voice interrupted her
thoughts, “We’re here. Good luck!”
Kristina sighed, “Bye.”
“Kristina!” Claire exclaimed
as Kristina walked in. “Are you
ready?
Kristina attempted a smile
as she tied the silky ribbons of her
pointe shoes around her ankle, “I
guess.”
Just then, Ms. Isabel clapped
her hands, “We’re starting promptly!
Stretch and warm up!”
“Group One!” Ms. Isabel
called out. Claire leapt lightly to her
feet and gave Kristina and Tiffany
a dazzling smile. The first group
danced.
“Group Two!” their teacher
shouted a few minutes later. As the
next group danced, Claire plopped
down next to Kristina.
“Did I dance well?” she
asked. Kristina nodded and curled up
in a ball.
Claire understood and patted
her, “You’ll do great! Pretend you’re in
class dancing with us.” Kristina managed a tiny smile.
Vaguely, Kristina heard Ms.
Isabel’s voice shout, “Group Three!”
Tiffany sauntered to the
dance floor and took her place between Yvonne and Kayla. The music
began again. Kristina bit her lip and
fidgeted.
She finally heard, “Group
Four!” Tiffany skipped back and whispered, “Good luck!”
Kristina was next to Julie.
“Break a leg,” Julie scoffed.
Kristina tried to focus.
The music started. Glissade,
sissonne, balancé, Kristina recited
the steps in her head. She soared
through the steps and danced with
her whole heart and soul. Passion
radiated from her whole being as she
enjoyed gliding through the dance
and hearing the faint whooshes of her
shoes on the floor. Kristina was aware
that Julie was probably dancing the
same way, but it didn’t matter. She
just wanted to dance.
Kristina was almost sad
that it ended, but she held her head
high and gave Ms. Isabel a luminous
smile. The ballet instructor was busy
jotting notes, but paused to smile
back at Kristina.“Great job everyone!
Monday you’ll find out your roles!” Ms.
Isabel called as the girls bustled out.
“You did great, Kristina,” Tiffany praised.
“Thanks, Tiff,” Kristina replied,
“I hope Ms. Isabel thinks the same...”
Kristina knew she had tried
her best.
“Kristina!” Claire shrieked excitedly
as Kristina arrived, “Hurry up! Ms.
Isabel’s going to announce the parts!”
She grabbed Kristina and dragged
her along.
“Well, it looks like everyone’s
here,” Ms. Isabel said, “Okay, let’s
start. The Columbine doll will be...
Tiffany!”
“Yes!” Tiffany squealed, “I got
it!”
Ms. Isabel smiled, “Now we
have the Snowflakes. These dancers
will also dance in the Waltz of the
Flowers. They will be Hayley, Zia, Elena, and Alisa. The Snowflake Queen
will be Chloe.”
Ms. Isabel continued, “The
Arabian Leads will be Kristina and
Michaela. Clara will be danced by
Claire...” That was all Kristina heard.
She stood there, shocked,
“No,” she whispered. Her head spun
and her heart pounded. An Arabian
Lead? She distantly heard Claire
scream, “Yes!” and Ms. Isabel’s voice
droning on.
Distantly she heard, “The
Sugarplum Fairy will be played by
Julie.” Kristina’s eyes brimmed with
tears and she swept them away, miserably.
“Now, the understudies which
are just as important! The understudy for the Snow Queen will be Zia
and the understudy for Clara will be
Yvonne. And for the Sugarplum Fairy,
it will be Kristina.” Ms. Isabel looked
up from her notes and smiled at Kristina.
“See? You’re an understudy!”
Claire murmured to Kristina, “You still
have a chance!”
Kristina groaned, I knew it. I
knew I was never going to make it.
“Kristina, I’m so sorry,” Julie
said sarcastically as she sauntered
by. Tears streamed down her face as
the crestfallen Kristina scuffled to the
door.
The days slowly rolled into
months and the first performance
drew closer. Kristina learned the
Arabian Lead and the Sugarplum
Fairy parts. She even practiced the
pas de deux a few times with Noah,
who played the Prince/Nutcracker and
the famous solo. Kristina loved the
Sugarplum Fairy role and danced like
it was hers. I wish I could dance the
Sugarplum Fairy, she thought.
“Okay, Julie! Let’s do that part when
you lead Clara in and show her the
Kingdom of Sweets.” Ms. Isabel said.
Julie smirked at Kristina who was
standing in the wings watching. It was
the final rehearsal before the first performance. Kristina was prepared for
both roles. Even though it didn’t seem
likely she would dance the Sugarplum
Fairy, she never stopped hoping she
would get a chance to dance the role.
“Good job everyone! Now get
some rest! See you tomorrow!” Ms.
Isabel praised.
That night, Kristina couldn’t
sleep. She was so excited, yet saddened at the same time. I should’ve
been the Sugarplum Fairy, she
thought wistfully.
The next day began with a
chilly breeze, a typical December
day. Kristina arrived at the theater an
hour before the performance. She
stretched, then put her costume on.
Her costume was a tan/turquoise
tank top attached to a sparkly pair
of pants. Since the Arabian dance
required her to be comfortable to
do splits and penchés, Ms. Isabel
decided her costume should be a two
piece. Kristina’s dark brown hair was
pulled back into a tight bun.
“Kristina!” Claire squealed,
“You look beautiful!” Claire was
wearing a simple pink party dress.
Her raven-black hair was tied in a half
ponytail with a pretty magenta bow.
“You too, Claire.” Kristina
turned around and saw Tiffany in her
doll costume. Red circles were painted on both cheeks and she caked her
face with makeup to make her look
like a doll. Her hair was gelled back
into a high bun.
“Unfortunately for us, so
does Julie.” Tiffany gestured over to
where Julie stood applying mascara
to her fake eyelashes she put on a
moment before. She wore a beautiful pink and cream-colored tutu with
sequins that seemed to glisten at her
every movement. She wore a silver
tiara and her blonde hair was twisted
into a high, ornate bun. Her light pink
pointe shoes seemed to sparkle in the
extremely bright stage lights.
“Ten minutes until show time,
girls!” Ms. Isabel shouted, “And boys,”
she added, glancing at Noah and the
other boys.
“I’m so nervous,” Claire shuddered, “I have the main character!”
“Relax. You’re going to do a
fabulous job,” Tiffany assured her.
23
“What if I screw up?” a worried Claire asked.
“You won’t,” Tiffany patted
her.
Kristina left her two friends
and approached Julie.
“Hey, Julie...”
Julie spun around.
“What?” the blonde girl spat.
“You look beautiful, good
luck!” Kristina smiled genuinely. She
turned and walked away, leaving
Julie with her jaw agape.
The familiar music started
and the guests started to arrive to
Clara’s parents’ party. Claire danced
her role of Clara perfectly. Tiffany
also danced her difficult Columbine/
Harlequin duet flawlessly. Act I ended
and intermission began. It was only
fifteen minutes but to Kristina, it was
eternity.
Act II started and Julie ran
out on stage, a dazzling smile on
her face. They were about halfway
through when it happened. In her
entrance dance, Julie started to do
her fouetté turns en pointe and she
mounted wrong. Her ankle bent awkwardly, and she fell, lying crumpled
on the stage. The audience gasped
and Kristina immediately rushed to
help Julie off the stage. She heard,
“We will have a brief intermission,”
echo throughout the theater.
“Are you okay?” Kristina
whispered. Julie nodded, breathing
exhaustedly. She tried to stand up,
but winced in pain and leaned heavily
against Kristina.
“I’m fine,” she whispered
hoarsely. “I’ve worked so hard to
be the Sugarplum Fairy! I..I have to
keep dancing.”
Kristina blinked, Julie also
wanted to be the Sugarplum Fairy
like me. I wasn’t the only one...She
was probably working as hard as I
was. She looked down and saw that
Julie was sobbing quietly, her eye
shadow smearing.
“Julie?” Kristina asked tentatively. The blonde girl glanced up.
“I’m so sorry for everything...I was
so jealous and I wanted that role. I
thought,” Kristina looked at Julie and
saw understanding dawn in her eyes.
24
“I can’t believe you’re apologizing to me,” Julie sniffed as she
wiped her tears away, “After how
mean I was to you, I thought instead
of helping me, you would laugh at
me. I’m really sorry, Kristina. I was
always envious of you. You’re always
so chill about everything and it
seems like it all comes easy for you...
And then I’m always second best.”
“What?” Kristina giggled, “I
always thought you were better!”
“Really?” Julie laughed.
“Oh, Julie!” Ms. Isabel rushed
over, a doctor following close behind,
“Are you ok? What hurts?”
“My ankle,” Julie replied,
grimacing.
“Well, let me look at it,” the
doctor said, examining Julie’s foot,
“Can you take off your pointe shoe?”
“Yeah,” Julie replied, clenching her teeth as her fingers grazed
the inflamed spot.
While the doctor checked
Julie’s ankle, Ms. Isabel turned to
Kristina, “You have to be the Sugarplum Fairy.”
“What? Me?” Kristina asked
astonished, “But—but—”
“Kristina, you know the part!
I’ve seen you practice!”
Kristina closed her eyes.
I wished I could dance the Sugarplum Fairy. How many times had
she thought that? Now she had
the chance. I should be happy, she
thought. But why does it feel so
weird?
“I don’t have a choice, do I,”
she murmured.
Ms. Isabel seemed to understand and put a comforting hand on
Kristina, “You’ll do a wonderful job.
The show must go on!”
Kristina took a deep breath,
“Ok. I’ll try my best.”
A few minutes later, Kristina
stood backstage in her Sugarplum
Fairy costume. She distantly heard
Ms. Isabel announce, “Thank you
for your cooperation. We will now
resume the performance.” She distantly heard the audience applaud.
And she only distantly heard the
music begin to play. The words in her
head echoed the loudest as she did
a couple relevés in the wings. I wish
I could dance the Sugarplum Fairy.
“No,” she whispered, “Julie deserved
it as much as I did.” Kristina flashed a
diamond smile and ran onstage.
All the dancers received standing
ovations. As the dancers came out to
bow, the applause was a deafening
roar that filled the hall.
“It’s over,” Claire whispered
to Kristina as they stood in the wings,
waiting for their turn.
“The first performance is
over, there’s five more to go!” Kristina
grinned at her, “Now, go!” she saw
Ms. Isabel’s cue and nudged Claire.
Claire ran onstage and
curtsied gracefully. People clapped
louder than ever and there were
more cheers.
Kristina took a deep breath
and ran onstage with Noah. The applause for them was the loudest and
the most enthusiastic. Then the three
of them: Claire, Kristina, and Noah,
bowed together. The audience went
wild. Finally she stood in center stage
and waited for Ms. Isabel to come
out as she always did after a performance.
Ms. Isabel walked onstage
and with her was Julie. Her ankle
was wrapped up, and she walked
with a limp. Julie smiled shyly and
curtsied. She backed up to stand
next to Kristina.
“You were great,” Julie whispered.
“Thanks,” Kristina replied,
helping support Julie.
“Thanks so much,” Julie
smiled. She paused and then asked
hesitantly, “Friends?”
“Friends,” Kristina grinned.
The curtain closed as the two girls
hugged. •
Digital Art
Emily Sunderland, 9th Grade
Swing hinges creaked, groaning in high-pitched
squeals as they supported the weight of a teenager. Now sixteen and much heavier, the girl nudged
the ground with her frayed-laced sneakers while
swaying softly like a broken pendulum in the still
night air, thinking that the slight protests of the
minced rubber weren’t nearly as satisfactory as
the hollow gratings of tanbark long replaced. She
almost missed the slivers that used to invade her
socks and irritate her feet. Almost. Chilled fingers wound loosely round the chains that
reeked of rusting metal and aging memories and the teen shrugged her neck deeper
into her scarf and jacket, reluctantly regretting her empathetic decision to leave her
gloves at home. The subtle whisper of music wired to her ears faded and was replaced
with an upbeat ringtone, laughably contrasting the mood. She left her eyelids drooped,
lips slightly parted, breath clouding the air, letting the call go to voicemail. She just
didn’t feel like existing right then.•
25
Photography by
Milan Loiacono
10th Grade
26
Photography by
Esther Bartlett
11th Grade
of the waters
Esther Bartlett
27
Why My Little Pony is so Popular
Julian Shaw | 9th Grade
You may have heard of this show, and its fanatics, but there is actually a reasonable explanation
for this strange anomaly.
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is actually quite reminiscent of other children’s shows:
it has a simple story, a cast of mostly stock characters, and the same pursuit for cute. They have,
however, fixed what was wrong with those other shows. They have revamped the animation,
although a bit too well; got good voice acting, maybe too good; a nice, simple story, vaguely
biblical; and removed almost everything that is hated in children’s shows. You’ve hated a
children’s show before, I know I have. The show also has a reasonable dosage of good humor;
not that stale and unoriginal stuff, but some actually amusing humor. The show coincides with
animations of an older demographic, such as Adventure Time and Regular Show, although its
title, the characters’ species, its gay (in the happy sort of way) colors, and unpleasing theme
song are its only oddities.
Now, have you seen the animation of children’s shows? It’s just horrid, in my opinion. The
overly obese ursidae. The stressed and sepia aardvark. The Latino whose head brings to mind
an overstuffed football. Worst of all, the absolutely awkward and ugly miniature equines used in
previous generations of the show. Blue’s Clues, along with other shows of older demographics,
are fine, though. Their animation is simple, cute in the case of Blue’s Clues, humorous in the case
of other shows, and does not suggest anything from PE. MLP:FiM does just this, to the power of
Susan Glenn.
Maybe that was exaggerated, but MLP:FiM has indubitably dragged countless manly
teens and mature adults into its influence. Including me, sadly. I hate hormones. But from love
stricken eyes, the characters posses cute faces; their heads are not excessively large; the legs
suggest athleticism and are devoid of hair; the torso is slender, as opposed to either corpulent
or stick-like; and the hair flows fluidly. I may be absolutely raving, but those are my opinions of
the design.
A more scientific answer to this strange attractiveness
would relate to the science of cute. The actual reason why we are
attracted to things in this way is a side effect of a natural mechanism that causes us to cherish and protect our young, and make
us go “Ooh” when we see a baby. Babies naturally have a large
head in comparison to their torso, causing us to recognize cute
in this way. Animators attempt to exploit this fact by making the
head in characters excessively huge, such as in chibis and, well,
children’s shows, although one or two shows fails to achieve this
by making the head look egg like.
Another scientific theory for attractivity would be related
to reproduction. The more fit a person is, the more attractive that
28
person becomes. This is another part of how we are wired to preserve the species. Reproduction
between healthy humans would create a very high chance of creating healthy babies, which
would live longer and better than unhealthy infants. Most children’s shows don’t do this, perhaps
because they do not know about this or because they do not want their viewers falling in love
with their show. MLP:FiM makes use of this dangerous method by using less lines, so as to not
suggest the wrinkles of age; creating legs that neither look like sticks nor of fat—and with slim
torsos.
A different explanation for the popularity of MLP:FiM might go to the fact that this show
was animated by Lauren Faust, who also worked on Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, Kids
Next Door, and The Powerpuff Girls. You must have heard of at least one, and you must have liked
at least one. I think she has this magical ability to make a show instantly awesome because she’s a
sorcerer, but that’s not really scientific.
Now that we know the reasons for its awesome animation, let’s move on to the voices.
Most children’s shows have their characters’ voices utterly annoying. This show is not one of those
shows. There are voices that are pompous yet mellifluous, soft and shy, annoyingly humorous,
and rational yet interesting. The country accent is annoying, though, no question.
Now for the scientific portion of our analysis. The voices are high pitched, obviously, but
this is a pattern in most children’s shows, and a few Skrillex songs, which might allude back to
the science of cute, as all biologically correct babies have high pitched voices. Another reason
that might explain the abnormally high number of male fans is that males recognize females by
their voice, which is also high pitched. It could be possible that we can recognize the positive
characteristics of a female by its voice, an example could be the female’s weight. The following
statement is not intended to offend, but an unhealthily large female would have a lower voice
compared to one who is thin and fit, and so they have gone in the completely opposite direction
by pitching voices extremely high, so as to give the reader no doubt that the characters are ideal
in weight.
Now, I think we all have learned once in life that the story is the backbone of all shows.
Most children’s shows have a backbone of jelly, consisting of bland simplicity, dry humor, and a
weak story. The stories of MLP:FiM are simple. So simple, it’s brilliant. Don’t get me wrong, they
probably take much less than a day to write the outline, but it is just relaxingly simple, a break
from complexity, while being fresh and meaningful.
The pilot seemed to inoffensively hint at biblical principals: not suggesting worldliness,
but its not force-feeding the Bible to its viewers (cough, Berenstain Bears, cough). There is a dark
spirit that causes mischief, trials of character, and instant and loving forgiveness, which all seem
to relate to things in the Bible.
I actually hate most children’s shows. It racks my brain whenever my younger sister
becomes another consumer of a show that uses the least amount of effort for the most amount
of profit. Now for this show. They might have produced the show from the love of money, but
they seem to have poured some effort and maybe a bit of heart into it. Even if they didn’t, then
that means that they are good enough to deceive me.
I really like the show, if you haven’t guessed. I like it as much as any other animated show
in my demographic, but maybe a bit more, just a bit more. It’s genius, in that it does not follow
the awful pattern of the usual children’s show, but actually tries to appeal to everyone. I shall
leave you with this question, have you ever watched the show?
29
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,
But then some wood cracked and there was a loud whoop,
For the turkey had broken straight out of its coop!
The turkey was angry, it was very mad,
But all through the house was a feast to be had!
Christmas Feast
Chang
To-Go by6thRussell
Grade
It ate up the gravy and every last bit,
Until there was only a small piece of grit.
When the family woke up to an eaten-up feast,
They spied that fowl bird and called it a beast.
The family chased the turkey around and around,
But the turkey had friends and fun to be found!
He left to the place where all turkeys go,
And had a good Christmas of fun in the snow.
Sculptures by
Zechariah Weils, 8th Grade
30
Drawing by
Emily Wagner
7th Grade
Painting by
Meghan Jow
6th Grade
Photography by
Ashlyn Murphy
8th Grade
Pencil Sketch
Art by
Lindsey Kaemingk
7th Grade
31
Aperture Magazine • Fall 2012
The King’s Academy Student-Produced Literary Magazine
Questions? Comments? email [email protected]