Music
by Teni Adebayo
Tap tap tap
I tap my foot to the rhythm to keep in time
My hands fly to each valve
Playing a sweet note
The music of all instruments hits the audience’s ears
As the music stops everyone claps
And we bow
2
The Many Benefits of Reading
by Bea Alcantara
The hundreds of pages seem to give us a heart attack. Just how thick a book is gives us
more of a nervous breakdown. Why is that? Today it seems that reading is becoming an
unknown way to spend our time. Instead we devote ourselves to the various social media that is
out there today. Sure it’s sometimes helpful, but not always. So why is it we can't we pick up a
good book instead of our phones? At the same time can't we think of how reading might benefit
one's writing skills and help change our views on various ideas?
J.K Rowling had a love for books. Once she was older she managed to write the wellloved Harry Potter series. Which proves that reading should feel like second nature to life- not a
when I want to do it kind of option. Sure people might hate reading but still. Even reading a
small chapter book might just help you in writing. Sure novels are a pain to accomplish, but has a
person ever thought the benefits of reading that very novel? Even so, reading shouldn't feel like a
chore. Make something you'll enjoy and don't punish yourself. Read the books you'll like.
Every time I read a movie review I always wonder why the film was worth seeing or why
it was such a terrible film. What did the critic like in the film or what did they dislike in the
movie? Even so, I don't agree unless I watch the film. In fact that's the case with reading. For
instance you read an opinionated story that by the end you either agree with the piece or not.
Which is why reading is essential. You get to explore various areas of literature and by the end
you manage to pin-point an opinion. In short no matter what you read you're able to see your
point of view and know why.
Big or small, groan or smile, books have their effects. Even so we have to consider the
benefits of reading. Instead of just lying on the couch with a bag of your favorite junk food, pick
up a book. Open it and read it. Love it or you can throw it in the fire or something. Either way
develop a love for reading. Don't act like act like the Grinch at Christmas before he changed.
Think twice of a book and learn to love it. For you may never know the results of reading that
book. In fact it may even be surprising.
3
Windows
by Bea Alcantara
The mirrors to the outside world
How it conceals you from the actual world
Resulting with you to wonder what the world has
In ways when you’re young, you’re blind
For you don’t know the terror the world can bring
As you age you know the truth that bears
For it shows in your eyes and your life
Beyond this, a cracked window means empty
Whereas a full one means a complete one
4
Villain to Hero
by Victoria Ambrosionek
Audrey looked out the window. The late morning Desert sky seemed crisp and clear.
Something wasn’t right- but, what? Then she remembered. Last night, the officials came to her
house and arrested her. The jail for troubled teens was some place near the equator, at least,
that’s what the officials told her. Audrey slumped against the cold stone wall. The reason she
was arrested was because of a stupid prank! All she did was put a frog in her Math teacher’s
pants. How could she have known that her teacher was engaged to the prince of Bulgaria?
Audrey called the head guard over.
“Isn’t there some way that I could make it up to Her Majesty?” she pleaded. The guard
looked at her with his harsh, icy blue eyes.
“There is one way. What you have to do is travel the world and visit 3 countries, and,
prove yourself a hero.” A hero, Audrey thought.
“How do I do that?” she questioned.
The guard let out a short bark that might have been a laugh. “That, my dear convict, is up
to you.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll do it!”
“You leave at dawn,” the guard sneered.
Audrey didn’t sleep at all that night. All she could think about was her quest. How does
she prove herself a hero when she had proven herself a villain just the day before?
“Time to leave!” a new guard, whose name was Moure Blood, by the way, said
gleefully.
“Then, let’s go!” Audrey declared.
Their first stop was Paris. “You have 12 hours to do your job, convict!” Moure Blood
stated. She went into a tent that had suddenly appeared and didn’t come back out.
“Well, geez thanks for helping me!” Audrey muttered. Then, she heard weeping. Audrey
followed the sound and found herself at a creek. She saw a girl about her age bawling her eyes
out. “Um, hi,” Audrey said awkwardly.
“François?” the girl sniffled.
“Only English,” Audrey replied.
“Oh. Name is Brigide.” Brigide said.
“Hi, Brigide. I’m Audrey. I know we barely know each other, but do you want to tell me
why you were crying?” she asked.
Brigide heaved a sigh. “I lost house. Could not pay rent. No house now.”
Audrey started to think. “Do you have a job?”
Brigide nodded. “Yes. Am seamstress. Too low pay.”
How do I solve that problem? Audrey mused. She thought about the tent that appeared so
suddenly. What if Brigide moved into the tent? Audrey proposed the idea to her.
Brigide looked thoughtful. Finally, she gave in. “Better than what I have now!” she
chuckled.
“Well then, come on!” Audrey yelled gleefully.
“Back so soon, convict? And look, you have a little friend with you!” Moure Blood
snickered.
“Hey, Bloody Mary!” Audrey said.
“It’s Miss Blood to you!” Moure Blood growled.
“Whatever. Anyway, are you going to need that tent thing?” Audrey inquired.
5
“Ya want it?” Blood asked.
“No, but my friend Brigide does. She lost her house because she couldn’t pay the rent.”
she answered.
“I really am getting soft. So, fine!” Blood mumbled.
“One deed down, two to go!” Audrey proclaimed.
“Turkey is the next destination.” Blood uttered.
“Thanks!” Brigide screamed before Audrey and Moure Blood disappeared.
“Sydney! Where are you?” an American tourist cried.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but do you need any help?” Audrey asked.
The woman looked at her. “My five year old child is missing! Of course I need help!”
she yelped.
“Sheesh!” was the only thought that came to Audrey’s mind.
Pretty soon, both Audrey and the lady were looking for the kid. “If I were a 5 year old,
where would I hide?” she asked herself. A realization hit her like a tsunami. Anywhere with
candy! Audrey ran over to the cotton candy machine. Next to it, she saw a FAT five year old
girl chowing down.
“Ma’am, I found your kid!” Audrey shouted proudly. The lady didn’t even say thank
you! She just smooched the girl away. Remember kids, mind your manners!
“Wow convict, I’m impressed! Your last mission is gonna’ be the hardest, though,”
Blood warned her.
“I don’t care. All I want is to get out of jail!” Audrey snapped.
“Attitude- I like that,” Blood chortled. Pretty soon, they arrived at a palace. “We’re in
Bulgaria!”
“Wait, so you mean that I’m going to go see Evil Evelyn, I mean, Her Most Royal
Majesty?” Audrey interrogated.
“For your last assignment, you have to wash the princess’s feet!” Blood howled.
“Aaah, the criminal returns,” Mrs. Evelyn clucked. “Now, your first two assignments
were just to torture you. This will definitely be the NASTIEST thing you have ever experienced!
So now, wash!”
A servant girl gave Audrey a bucket and some soap. She held her breath while
scrubbing. It certainly WAS the nastiest thing she ever had to do! Finally, after 3 hours of
scrubbing, she was done scraping off the dead pores and skin.
“That took you a while! You are now a FORMER convict. Scram!” Her Royal Evilness
herself, Mrs. Math Teacher, screeched.
Audrey caught the next plane out of Bulgaria. Her parents welcomed her with open
arms. I guess that the moral of this story is never put a frog in your Math teacher’s pants unless
you like to wash stinky feet!
6
Angel
by Nicole Anderson
I remember how the neighborhoods that used to stand out in the distance before they had
been swallowed by the darkness. I haven't been able to process all that has happened. I need to
leave the house. If I can't stop the war, or tell my brother how much I love him, at least there is
hope for salvaging my sanity. Before I left the house, my mother told me that I wasn't dressed
warmly enough. Despite her warnings, I left the house with bare hands stuffed in the pockets of
my jacket. I tried to forget the frigid air. December is much colder than my hands remember. I
cursed as I noticed how red they were.
I reached in my pockets for my cigarette and lighter. This was my second one tonight. I
started a few months ago when I found out that my brother was considering fighting in the war. I
used to believe that I could stop depending on it, but not anymore. My brother is very optimistic.
He wrote to me in one of our letters that he believes that they can win the war. This war has been
going on for years and he swears that he can make a difference. What a fool.
I haven't been completely honest about why I am out here tonight. Last night I saw
something, like a bird with huge black wings flying through the sky. I saw it when it crashed
onto a neighbor’s rooftop. I caught a glimpse of a face. It was of a man no older than me. He
tried to pick himself up and fly away, but he was too weak. He skidded off the rooftop and hit the
ground. I noticed that his wings were bruised and covered in blood. I ran to find this mysterious
man, but he was gone.
I searched every nook of the neighborhood, but he was nowhere to be found. I finally
gave up and decided to walk home. Was he an angel and if so, why were his wings covered in
blood? Why is he here on earth? I wanted to know who he was. I reached in my pocket for a
cigarette and lit it. I winced when I noticed it was my third one tonight.
7
Outline
by Nicole Anderson
Don’t fall in love with her outline.
Spend a lifetime memorizing her.
Remember the mouth of the girl
who bit the horizon. She was the
one who tried to peel the stars
from the sky. When they opened
her chest, they found her poems
stuffed inside her heart gnawing.
She never meant for the words to
leak, but she was always messy
with poetry.
8
Words from the past, Advice to the future
by Nicole Anderson
1. You will learn time and time again what it means to break. Sometimes it will hit you in the gut
and you will swear over and over that time will not heal these wounds, but it will.
2. I promise, you are not in love. I know--trust me, I know that you want it so badly. Your heart
is seeping through your chest and you cannot help but wonder why he and she and they don't
want your love.
3. Your mother will remind you to stop crying over people who do not love you, but you have
never been a good listener.
4. Don't let anyone tell you that your heart is too big. You will love him and her countless times
and I promise that it will hurt, but it will be so beautiful.
5. At your darkest times, your notebook and pen will be your salvation. I advise you to write
everything because one day you will write some of your best work. Never forget to put your
heart on the page. It will be messy and sticky. Your heart will want to collapse and your skin will
scream, but you will be a better person.
6. Even when you lay protected and guarded, you still manage to be your own enemy. Listen to
me---there will be scratches and scars and bloody skin and bruises, but you will be victorious.
9
You Are My Sunshine
by Jessica Axelrod
You are my sunshine when the skies are dark.
You try to protect me when my tears flow like heavy rain.
When you smile the world smiles with you.
Your voice is a comfort, like angels singing down from heaven.
You are half of my heart, my sister, my friend; we will be together until our journey ends.
10
Jessica Axelrod
11
The Test
by Noah Blackmon
Today was the big day; the day of the test that would allow just one teen to graduate the
academy of young warriors. Having practiced all night, or the entire day before, the students
were well prepared. Ryan, John, Sarah, and William were there extra early, to talk, or hang
around the testing room. Ryan sat in the corner, fastening his shin guards, and listening to the
others talk.
“I hear the zombies are beginning to become a problem in America.” William said.
“That’s the least of our problems right now. With zombies in North America, we need this
test to go well for us to be able to fight.” John replied. He began to pace a bit. “Of course, we all
know I’M going to be the one to graduate here!” he exclaimed, swinging his makeshift wooden
flail around. Sarah and Ryan watched him.
“Are you ready?” Sarah asked Ryan, who shrugged in response.
“I can only hope so.” Ryan stood up, and adjusted his shin guards, arm guards, gloves, and
boots. “I practiced all day and night, but there’s still a chance I could fail.” Sarah put her hand on
his shoulder.
“You’ll do fine. I’m sure of it.” He nodded, unsure, yet trusting her.
“She’s right you know.” Alexander, one of the teen instructors for the class, watched
them from one of the catwalks above them. “If I’ve seen anything in you, its determination, and
from your training that you’ve given yourself, you’ll ace this test.”
“How can you be so sure?” Ryan asked. Alexander tapped his head, and walked away.
“He’s always so mysterious. I wonder what secrets he holds.” Sarah said, more to herself
than to Ryan.
“Yeah… I just hope he’s right.” Sarah put her hand on his shoulder.
“He is. He’s the smartest of us all.”
“Oh? And what did he say about your testing capabilities Ryan? Did he tell you who’s
going to come out on top? You know, besides me?” John came up behind them, and came too
close for comfort. As short as he was, and even with his brown hair able to cover his mouth, his
breath could still reach them. Sarah pushed him away.
“Shoo John. We don’t want you here.” John shrugged sarcastically, and moved away.
“Fine, but you, Ryan, and your little redhead friend are going to remember this day! I
swear it!” He dragged his wooden flail around with him.
“John won’t win. I know he won’t.” Sarah said.
“Don’t doubt him. He’s an idiot, but he’s a smart idiot.” he said, looking down at them as
he talked. “They’re the worst kind to deal with.” William said to them, approaching quickly. The
test begins in a few minutes. We should hurry.” He picked up a wooden spear. “Are you both
ready?” Sarah picked up her wooden broadsword, and Ryan grabbed his staff.
“We’re ready.” They said at once. William nodded.
“Then away we go. Alexander Crow awaits us.” They followed William into the testing
room.
Alexander stood at the end of the long room. Between him and the four trainees, were
three practice dummies for each of them.
“Good morning to all!” Alexander called to them. They responded with a good morning
call back. “Today is the big day! The day that will make or break your life if you let it. The
course we choose for you will be based upon your skill level in the classroom, which is led by
12
John and Ryan, your show in the test, which is led also by John and Ryan, your listening skill,
which is led by William and Sarah, and your will to fight. That will be determined later, I’m
sure. However, I made this test this morning, at about three o’clock in the morning. No way to
cheat any sort of system like that. Once you all are ready, I will give you the objective.” He
waited for a moment while the students prepared themselves. Sarah and William looked at each
other, then Ryan, and nodded. He nodded back. “Are all of you ready?” He asked. Everyone
nodded. Even John, who didn’t make any sort of witty retort. “We’re ready sir!” He called back.
Alexander smiled a little, mischievously, of course, and said, “For this test, you must, for all
three routines we learned in class, run at the dummy, closing your eyes halfway through, and..”
He paused slightly. “Avoid hitting the target.” The students expressions changed with confusion.
This was an odd request, even for Alexander. But it was the test. There was nothing to do but do
it from here. Alexander raised his glowing blue sword in the air, and slammed the blunt side onto
a sort of railing in front of him. “Go!”
All the students rushed forward at top speed. The first routine was a simple strike,
nothing too fancy. They all closed their eyes as they came closer to it, and when the felt they
were close enough, they all swung their weapons with all their might, as they had been taught.
For a few seconds after striking, they waited, and caught their breath.
“Good. Open your eyes now.” They all opened their eyes. Ryan looked over, and saw
that all of them had avoided their target, but John looked at him with a smirk, and the other two
looked horrified. Looking down, he saw that his dummy was gone, replaced by scattered bits and
pieces of a practice dummy. He tried to hold his panic in. There were still two more tests.
“Onto the next test please.” Alexander called over to them, as he turned and went into the
next room.
“Don’t worry! There’s still a chance for you to win!” Sarah called over to him. “You can
still do it!” The other three went into the next room, followed by Ryan after he had recovered
from his panic.
In the second room, the dummy was built a bit stronger, and was elevated a little bit.
Alexander stood on the far side of the room again.
“Your objective is the same.” He raised his sword, and slammed it down again. “Go!”
The students rushed forward again, closing their eyes halfway through. The second routine was a
jump attack, with a bit more power, but less accuracy. With an attack like this, Ryan was sure
he’d miss the target. He was wrong. Once he opened his eyes, he was faced with the same sight.
At this point, if he didn’t impress Alexander this time, he was doomed. He looked at Alexander,
who glanced at his with a strange look in his eye.
“Onto the third test.”
The final test room only had two dummies in it.
“The objective is still the same. John and Ryan, you two are on one dummy. William and
Sarah, you two are on another. Does anyone have any questions?” Sarah raised her hand. “Yes,
Sarah?”
“Why are there only two dummies? Is this a part of the test?” Alexander shook his head.
“No that was my fault. I accidentally created two less dummies than I should have. But it
will be interesting to see you two compete to get there first. Now then, go!” He slammed his
sword into the railing, and the trainees rushed ahead. John was ahead first, and ran at top speed
to get to the dummy before Ryan. The third test was to use your entire body strength, and its
energy, to smash the target with not only your physical strength, but your energy too. Ryan, with
his only goal being to get to the target before John, forgot completely about the objective to miss
13
the target. He ran even faster than he thought he was able to, and quickly passed John. With all
of his power, Ryan leapt into the air, closed his eyes, spun around, and pushed all of his energy
into his staff. When he opened his eyes, there were remnants or a
blue-ish energy wave, and a destroyed test dummy. Alexander was the only one who had not
been knocked to the ground by the energy wave. He smiled at the students.
“It has been decided. Good job. I will let you know the results very soon. “
Alexander left the room, leaving Ryan to watch his failure.
Ryan sat down on a crate in the storage room when Alexander walked in.
“Hey. How are you feeling?” Ryan buried his head in his hands.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Alexander shrugged.
“Alright then. I just thought you might want to have this before I left.” He handed Ryan a
little slip of paper; a diploma. Ryan couldn’t find words to say.
“Seeing as how I don’t have much time left, I’ll just say this; you won, not because you
practiced until you always got it right,” He stood up, and began to leave. “But until you never got
it wrong.” He smiled at Ryan. “Now go enjoy your victory feast. You earned it.”
14
Take a Walk
by Joy Cheshire
Take a walk in these old sneakers
I know they're a sight for sore eyes
Orange converse covered in mud
But they are really quite comfy inside
Take a walk in these old sneakers
Don't mind the rugged shoelaces
They somehow hold these shoes together
No matter the steps or the paces
Take a walk in these old sneakers
Despite the soles fallin’ out
These shoes can go the distance
Therefore you shouldn't doubt
Take a walk in these old sneakers
Down the twisted forest path
Through the rivers and streams of fish
Over the hills and the sunlight bath
Take a walk in these old sneakers
Through the imagination
And when you are done with your stroll
The shoes wind up at their true destination
They arrive with you again
And you slip them off your sore feet
You feel relief but also longing
For those shoes that were old but neat.
How did it feel to take that walk
In those shoes that are so unique?
To take that journey that was long and hard
But to get to the very top peak.
Whenever you like, yes you may
Slip off your tight heels
And take a walk in those old sneakers
If they are what appeals.
Take a walk in these old sneakers
15
Goodnight
by Maria Victoria De Jesus-Contreras
Sarah stood outside of her new house. The moving truck had just left after putting all her
furniture in the house. As she started to walk toward the house so she could relax on the couch,
she heard a small voice behind her.
"Do you know why the previous owners left?" Sarah turned around. A small, old woman
stood there on the sidewalk.
Sarah said. "Who are you?"
The old woman answered in her small, frail voice. "I'm Patricia Green. You can call me
Ms. Green if you want."
Sarah smiled. "Do you live next door?" Ms. Green nodded. She then repeated her
question.
"Do you know why the previous owners left?"
Sarah shook her head. "No, I don't."
Ms. Green then asked, "Would you like to know why?"
"Um...sure," Sarah answered. Ms. Green closed her eyes and nodded.
"They were such a nice family. The kids always visited me. They were lively, so full of
energy. Their parents always helped me when I had a problem. They were so nice..."
Sarah nodded. "Well, why'd they leave?"
Ms. Green opened her eyes, with a serious look. It scared Sarah. Ms. Green answered her
voice serious. “The curse."
"What?"
"The curse," she said again. "The curse that haunts the walls of this house."
"What curse?!" Sarah asked.
Ms. Green closed her eyes and shook her head, as if trying to get rid of the memories that
haunted her. "I warned the family that lived here of the curse. They didn't listen. A few months
passed as they lived here, peacefully. I thought the spirits had decided to spare them. But I was
wrong." Tears started to come out of her eyes.
"It's okay," Sarah said. "You don't have to tell me if it pains you that much."
Ms. Green shook her head. "You need to know." A couple second passed before she
started to speak again. "A couple months ago the family started complaining about hearing
footsteps in the halls at night. They would hear laughing- such horrid laughing. The lights would
flicker. The sinks would start to leak. That's how you knew when she was coming. Then one day,
the father was trying to fix something on the roof. I heard something heavy hit the ground and
then I heard people screaming and then crying.”
"I went outside to see what was happening. But all I saw was a woman and two children
standing over a broken body. The father had fallen of the roof and broken his neck. The
authorities said it was an accident and that he had just slipped and fallen. But I knew what had
really happened. She pushed him off."
Sarah shook her head. "Who's she?"
Ms. Green looked up into Sarah’s eyes. They were full of fear. "The girl that died here
fifty years ago. I remember her. I remember her family's agony at seeing her broken body on the
grass, in the dirt. It was so terrible that I guess she couldn't move on."
Sarah nodded solemnly. "Well, I'm sure that she has moved on now."
16
Ms. Green nodded. "Just be careful. I have seen too many deaths in my life." She started
to walk away. Before she entered her house she turned around said, "May she grant you her
mercy." Ms. Green then turned and walked away toward her house.
Sarah shook her head and entered her own house. That's only a story, Sarah told herself.
Only a story. The sun was setting already. She took a quick shower in her new house before she
sat in her bed to read. She did that every night. If it was a good book she would sometimes stay
up until morning. The only light source she had was the lamp on her bedside table. She sat there
reading for what seemed like minutes. She looked up at her digital clock to see what time it was.
It was almost midnight.
She decided that she had read enough. She put her book next to the clock and reached
over to turn off her lamp. Her room was pitch black once the light was off. She turned onto her
side and started to drift off into sleep. Suddenly she heard footsteps- small, child-like footsteps
outside her door, in the hall. Sarah flipped over so that she was facing the door. I'm imagining
things, she thought. Then she heard laughing; a high pitched laugh- a girl's laugh. Sarah sat up.
The lamp's light started to flicker. She felt chills crawl up her spine. She had goose bumps all
over her body. The sink in her bathroom turned on. The water poured out so fast that the sink
started to flood. Sarah was too frozen with fear to do anything. She just sat there her eyes glued
to the door. She heard the laughter again, so much louder and clearer than before.
Then, suddenly, everything stopped. The sink stopped running; the lights stopped
flickering; the footsteps and laughter stopped all together. Sarah sighed, knowing it was her
imagination. Then she heard the footsteps in her room, running up to her bed. The laughter
started and then stopped. Sarah clutched the blankets. “Please, please stop,” Sarah whispered.
“Please.” Then there was a girl at the end of her bed. Her face was pale and blood-stained. She
smiled. Her teeth were so sharp Sarah was sure they could rip her apart easily. The girl’s high
pitched voice answered her plea.
“Goodnight.”
17
Caroline
by Kaitlyn Dennison
Caroline was small. Caroline was insecure. Caroline was frail. She was only 17 years old.
Caroline had short brown hair, the color of the sweetest cinnamon stick ever to be found. Her
eyes were the brightest green, the color of the freshest summer grass. Caroline never wore a
single ounce of makeup, her skin flawless and as soft as could be. As well, she never wore tennis
shoes, only flats, for tennis shoes were made for tennis and flats were made for ladies.
Caroline had only one person who she considered was her friend. Her name is Juliet.
Juliet is the type of person who is loved by everyone. She is the captain of the volleyball team.
She always has plenty of people to talk to though she always chose to talk to Caroline. They had
a special bond. Juliet was the only person that Caroline would tell her secrets to. Juliet was the
only person who Caroline told who she liked. Juliet was the only person who knew how to break
Caroline, but she never did.
Caroline and Juliet would go to Holiday’s after school every single day. It is a burger
joint right across from the city park. Caroline and Juliet would sit at the two barstools at the
window facing the park and watch the people who walked by. The owner of Holiday’s is Juliet’s
uncle, who loves Caroline and Juliet. Caroline always ordered fries and Juliet would order a
chocolate milkshake. They would share, dipping their fries into the frozen chocolate drink.
Everyday, Juliet’s uncle would ask them if they wanted something different and everyday,
Caroline would reply, “Why change something that is so great already?” and then Juliet’s uncle
would laugh and go back to work. Caroline liked Juliet’s uncle.
Caroline loved going to Holiday’s for the food and because Juliet’s cousin, Michael,
works there. Michael is, along with Juliet, very popular in the school. He is the goalie for the
soccer team. Juliet never stops bugging him. They act like siblings. From the moment Caroline
laid her delicate eyes on Michael, she knew that she was in love with him Michael liked
Caroline, almost as much as she liked him. Through her fragile nature, he could never tell if she
actually did like him, so he never asked her on a date or to any dance though he really would
have liked to. Caroline never knew this about Michael.
Caroline lived in a small house on Winchester Drive. The small house has a small front
yard, but it is speckled with a variety of flowers. Caroline was put in charge of keeping the
garden and she did nothing short of completing her task. There were magnolias and tulips,
snapdragons and lilies. Spring was her favorite time of the year because she would be able to
create a masterpiece by creating life. It is made of faded white wooden panels and a faded black
door. Though the house was old and falling apart, Caroline loved it.
Caroline adored her father. His name is Henry. Henry loved Caroline very much.
Caroline would watch movies with her father every single night and he would always let her pick
them out. They would tell each other jokes that they either heard or came up with that day and
they would laugh until their stomachs ached and their lips hurt from grinning too much. He is a
family man and will be until his death. Caroline adored her father.
18
Caroline had one brother and no other sibling. Her brother’s name is Tyler. Tyler is three
years younger than Caroline and is only a freshman at their school. Tyler, like Juliet and
Michael, is also flooded with friends. He is no athlete, but he is one of the greatest artists in the
school. Tyler’s paintings have won multiple awards and will continue to do so. Caroline and
Tyler bickered quite a bit. They would argue about the silliest of things, making everything that
the other did a huge issue. Even though they argued and fought, Tyler loved his sister, but never
told her.
Caroline only slightly knew her mother. She walked out on the family when Caroline was
four and Tyler just born. Her name was Sara. From what Caroline could remember, Sara was a
skinny woman. She was frail just like Caroline. Sara did not keep in contact with Caroline or
Tyler. Sara completely left her family behind. Caroline did not care for her mother. Caroline felt
betrayed by the absence of a woman that could have made a whole difference in her world.
On a day in the middle of March, the sun was shining unnaturally. It was brighter than
usual, but it made the day beautiful. It was not cold, as it usually was during that time of the year,
but it was a nice type of warm. It was a Friday and school was just let out. Juliet had a volleyball
practice, the first time it was ever after school in all their years in high school. Instead of going to
Holiday’s, Caroline decided to walk home and lazily nap until Henry arrived home. Caroline had
music plugged into her ears, volume all the way up. In her mind, she was going through all the
things that she would do over the weekend. She would, of course, go to Holiday’s and hang out
with Juliet. She would say her same line to Juliet’s uncle and watch him grin. She would admire
Michael from a distance. She would begin to work on her garden, knowing that it was almost
spring. She would watch movies with Henry. She would argue with Tyler. She would not think
of her mother.
But Caroline never got around to doing those things. Crossing the street intersection, the
volume too loud to hear anything else, she was oblivious to the loud cry of a truck’s horn
approaching at a speed way above the speed limit. She was oblivious to the screeching of tires as
the driver tried all possible ways to stop the truck. She was oblivious up until the point when the
truck collided with her and her small body went limp. The truck finally came to a stop. The
driver, whose name is Will, exited the truck as quickly as he could and ran to the broken body of
the small girl. Will checked her pulse. There was none. Will checked if she was breathing. She
was not. Will tried mouth to mouth. It did not help. Someone who stopped called 9-1-1. It was
too late.
Now, there is no one who is small, insecure, and frail. There is no one with cinnamon
stick hair and summer grass green eyes. There is no more soft skin or someone who refused to
wear tennis shoes.
No one will ever be Juliet’s best friend. She will have no secrets to share. She will
continually cry at the loss of someone who was so small and so hidden that only a few could
actually see her.
No one will ever sit on the barstool facing the park next to Juliet at Holiday’s. There will
never be a shared fry and chocolate milkshake combo. Juliet’s uncle will never get a reply for the
strange combo.
19
No one will ever love Michael the same way. He will never be able to present the rose
that he had waiting that Friday night. He will forever be at a loss of words for how he felt when
the rose struck the ground so loudly that nothing else could be heard.
No one will ever tend to the garden in the front yard of the small house on Winchester
Drive. The unplanted flowers will never be placed in their orderly spots, for not a single person
found the courage to finish what was about to be started.
No one will ever find as much fun watching movies with their father every night or
telling lame jokes and laughing until your stomach hurts. He will sit on the couch, watching new
movies and telling lame jokes to someone who will never be there again. No other person would
ever adore their father in the same way.
No one will ever fight with Tyler again. He will never be able to come up with silly
arguments just to talk to his sister. All of his paintings will be dark and splattered with the
remains of death. He will never get to tell her that he loved her.
No one will ever understand why Sara took no interest in her daughter’s death. She will
not attend the funeral or send any best wishes. She was shut out a long time ago and always
would be.
She will never come back and because of that, so many people were affected. There will
never be a small, insecure, and frail girl as big, confident, and strong as Caroline was.
So, why change something that is so great already?
20
The Realm of Fantasy
by Brianna Devadoss
I was never really popular in school; all I wanted were straight A’s. But now, everyone in
the Realm of Fantasy knows my name! And this is how it came to be.
It was finally summer and I (being a clean freak) started to clean out my closet. I began
taking down my dresses to color coordinate them, when all of a sudden a button appeared. It was
violet with a golden rim. It wasn’t red, so I pushed it and with a flash of light a purple vortex
appeared and sucked me in.
Thud! “Owww,” I groaned. I opened my eyes and found myself on a stone path. I got up,
brushed off my jeans and purple tank, and decided to follow the path.
As I went on, I saw dwarfs and gnomes. I kept walking till I finally spotted a village. By
now, I was eager to see some humans so I bolted to the village. When I got there, I was
awestruck at what I saw. There were beautiful fairies, elves, gnomes, dwarfs, and more strange
and unique creatures. I walked through the village in search of a person who could tell me how
to get back home, I finally found an oracle.
I went into her tent which was decorated with beads, herbs, and plants. I sat down and
told her my story. She looked in her crystal ball and said, “You need to go to the Queen of elves
named Rose. She will ask you to find a special ruby called the Red Ruby. It is guarded by a
dragon.” Then she handed me a map and marked down a short route to the Queen’s palace and
disappeared. I started sprinting to the queen’s palace. I finally reached the destination. But I
didn’t see a palace, so I climbed a tree with a green trunk and purple leaves to see if I could spot
the queen’s palace, and I did. IT WAS IN THE SKY!!! I climbed to the top of the tree and
figured that if I jumped from there I would make it to the queen’s palace.
1… 2…… 3…. I leaped into the air and my foot touched the edge but then I fell. I
thought I would die, so I closed my eyes but I didn’t feel anything. I opened my eyes and to my
great surprise I was in mid-air!!! I attempted to walk and was successful so I walked to the
palace.
As I walked into the palace I saw a long beautiful violet carpet, I walked on it to a pair of
doors. I was about to knock when a beautiful, charming voice said, “Come in,” and the doors
opened. I walked in and bowed down to an elf that was tall and fair with long violet garments
and radiant blond hair. As I got up she said, “I know why you are here so I just wanted to give
you a map on how to get to the cave containing the Red Ruby.” Then a map appeared in my
hands. I said, “Thanks,” and left.
When I got out of the castle I started to doubt that I could walk on air again. But that was
my only way out so I jumped and plunged to the ground and stopped just above the ground and
walked to the ground.
The map read to go east into the dwarfs mine. I turned the map over and there were two
tips. The first one read…
21
You need 2 shiny coins to get into the Dwarf’s mine.
I couldn’t possibly get 2 coins, but luck came my way. An old lady asked me the time. I
said, “I will tell you the time for 2 coins,” she gave me 2 coins and I said 9:30 pm. I started
running to the dwarf’s mine. Half way there, I was so tired I HAD to take a break. I lied down
and put my head on what I thought was a rock. As soon as my head touched it, my head sank in
and made a jingling noise. I sat up and picked up a bag and thought to myself, how could I have
mistook this for a rock. I opened the bag to find it full of gold coins! I smiled, and was on my
way again.
After a couple hours, I finally reached the mine. It wasn’t guarded, so I went in. As soon
as I stepped in, I slipped and slid down a mudslide to a pair of doors which was guarded. The
dwarfs asked for 2 shiny coins and I gave them the coins the woman traded me. Then they asked
me 2 questions…..
Who are you?
Why are you here?
I replied, “I’m Lydia from the human world and I want to get the Red Ruby.” The 2
guards laughed and said, “You are going to go fight the dragon with no armor, and you are a
GIRL!” “I never thought about that,” I mumbled to myself. Then I replied, “You are dwarfs, you
make armor could I buy armor from you?” They nodded yes and they lead me to a different door.
On those doors in big gold letters it read ARMOR. I went in and got a platinum shield and
breastplate and a sword all for only 4 gold coins.
The dwarfs led me back to the door that led into the mine. I went in and started walking.
I read the map and it said that I had to go straight for 1 mile then I had to turn right to get to
the…….VOLCANO! Then it said to climb up the volcano to get inside. “I was so hoping this
would be easy,” I said aloud to myself.
When I got to the volcano I looked at the back of the map to read the second tip, it read…
At 12:47 am July the 12th the volcano will erupt
I nearly fainted because it was the night of July 11 th and my watch says that it is
11:53pm. Without another thought, I started to climb the volcano. I climbed and climbed until I
finally reached the top of the volcano. Exhausted, I jumped in and landed beside a huge but
beautiful dragon. It was asleep, so I tiptoed past it into a lighted cave. At first, the light was dim
but as I followed the red light it kept on getting brighter and brighter until I was finally out of the
cave. Stretched before me was a giant pool of lava and in the middle of it was a piece of land
with the Red Ruby on it.
I had no choice, I needed the dragon. It wouldn’t burn in the lava, and I most certainly
would. So I walked back to the dragon and gently tapped him. He woke up instantly. I
surprisingly wasn’t afraid. It rose up and seeing me calm it laid back down. I beckoned it to
follow me into the cave and it did!!! I ran to the pool of lava and pointed to the Red Ruby. The
dragon didn’t move. I checked my watch it was 12:40 already!! So I got on the dragon and tried
pointing and this time it went to the Red Ruby. I grabbed the ruby just before the volcano started
22
shaking. When the volcano started shaking the dragon rose up with one flap of his mighty wings
and he started flying away. I urged him to go faster and in 2 seconds he was going so fast that
everything was one big blur. I shouted for him to go to the queen’s palace and in 30 seconds we
were there. I jumped off of him and told him that he could go, but I asked him to come back.
I bowed down and presented the Red Ruby to the Queen. I asked her, “Why she wanted
it so badly.” She replied, “You will see,” and she took the Red Ruby to a mirror on the wall and
inserted the ruby into the middle of the frame of the mirror and a young child stepped out
yelling, “MOMMY!” Then I understood why she wanted the ruby so badly, all she really wanted
was her beloved child back.
Then the queen insisted that we have a ceremony for me. As I stepped outside, I heard
applause from a big crowd. Then the queen walked out and told the audience my whole story and
just as she finished telling them my story, my dragon came by me and grunted. I turned to the
queen and said, “the dragon lost his home, and he would like to stay at the castle.’ The queen
answered, “Yes, he may stay at the castle.” Then I said goodbye to everyone. And the queen
sent me home through her mirror.
When I got home, to my relief not a second had passed.
23
Why I Can’t Won’t Take Broadcast Next Year
by Erika Rebollo Diaz
I stared at my Elective Card,
the choice not being that hard.
A burning cold engulfed my fingers,
and I couldn’t help but wonder,
what Broadcast would be over.
I pondered it with doubt,
wondering what it’d be all about.
And finally picked movie making;
Broadcast is what I’d be taking.
At school three weeks later,
I was feeling much greater.
The sun burned, not like one, but a thousand,
and the sky that was blue like a Springboard Book,
complimented my overjoyed seventh grader look.
But I guess being happy for no reason
must be treason,
for as I sat down in my desk I got a new Report Card Sheet,
to find out that my Video Production grade had gone down like falling sleet.
I was at a loss,
my spirit now green like dying moss.
I stared at the gold-rimmed clock in the wall in disbelief.
I had an eighty-nine
in the Video Production grade line.
It was a tragedy, the world would end,
this class to the trash I would send.
I wanted to leave,
the Broadcast class for my eighth grade year.
I still wasn’t sure though,
Which way the wing would blow.
I opened my locker, a pit of fiery darkness,
And went to look for a teacher recommendation,
for I needed it to fill out my Broadcast application.
And then I had to audition,
the reason I’d had to fill out the previously mentioned petition.
The air was a burning coal mine
while I said my few but well-rehearsed lines.
24
I left the room and walked home,
the red-bricked house between Greece and Rome.
The bitter taste of salt lingered in my tongue,
the now-cold wind laughed in my face,
and my hand was sore from holding a violin case.
As I later on checked my grades online,
I saw an eighty-nine in the video production grade line.
Very convinced, I grabbed my laptop,
I needed an elective flop.
I sent a message to the teacher of Broadcast,
and told her not to consider me for next year’s cast.
The air turned stale as the clock went Bang! Bang! Bang!
and I sank into my usually-soft chair,
now soft as the stone floor of any wizard’s lair.
About five minutes dragged on like an hour,
the clock’s ticking sounding sour.
I guess I was waiting for a sign,
waiting for the stars to align.
Then realization struck,
and suddenly I was drowning in muck,
thick like my mind had been,
as I realized how I’d been mistaken,
my future I’d incorrectly forsaken.
I stood up and paced the room,
which at the most was ten feet long and had an air of gloom.
My footsteps echoed through the house.
I had truly felt like a trapped mouse.
I should have e-mailed the teacher there and then,
but instead stood there like an insecure and cornered hen,
at the same time sure a lightning bolt would strike me if I went back on my word.
I now deeply regret letting my grades decide,
where the fun in my eighth grade year would lie.
25
Chicken Curry
by Antara Gupta
Warm red color
spicy tangy flavor
rich aroma
My mouth waters
as I watch Ma cook
She stands next
to the cooktop,
Stirring the pot
and adding spices
of all colors, of all flavors
Ahh, what a wonderful
dinner it shall be
The juicy chicken soaked
in gravy will be a
pleasure to my stomach
26
Winter Wonderland
by Antara Gupta
Through the trees, the sunlight filters
Casting shadows, welcoming winter
Snow drifts in a blustery breeze
Ushering light to dance in trees
Stare into the eyes of the white winter fire
Find those eyes that are full of desire
Dreaming, Daring, Doubting will they always be
For the spirit of the winter wonderland will eternally be free
27
The Darkening Stare
By Riya Jain
You know that feeling when you’re alone in the world. It’s like you don’t exist. But the
time still goes on. “Tick-tock, tick-tock," the clock slowly rumbles indicating when your time is
up. Every day you wake up just starting another dreadful day for making even more mistakes.
Screams of anger whisper in your ear every moment.
You live under a wall of dullness and abomination. If only there was some way to leave
behind the past and carry on. You still await a journey taking you far, far away.
You are stuck in a room where no light comes in, no hope to ever live for, no happiness
where enlightenment had occurred. Every tear spilled out one by one upon your pale, shocked
face where your eyes are just like dark tunnels. Crystallized, and frozen, something cold inside of
you has taken over. A new personality leaves you haunted forever, controlling you but still
letting those forlorn emotions intact. How can life go on like this? Remorseful music plays in
the background. Wings are broken by the tragedies of life. The darkness takes a twist. The earth
crumbles, lives get sucked in even if not wanted to.
Your dreams always bring misfortune; a scene plays back. Sweat drenches you as water
would, as you relive it again and again. Twisting and turning, wanting to not sleep further
driving the body into a zombie state. The forest feels awakened by your visit. Footsteps peel into
the stone-like ground, and thorns cut through fragile skin, the unspoken side of nature has arrived
at your door. Gray, sorrow trees absorb the atmosphere. The fallen leaves of the past are blown
away swiftly, reminding you. You tremble with fear. The silver wolf unleashes itself to you,
leaving a scar of pain never forgotten. Your life is sucked out with nothing but emptiness left in
its place.
You stand on your own ground while clouds move up ahead signaling another ominous
warning. The day when everything changed, fate gave you the first warning.
Life goes on as it is. A story uncovers as the pages come back. A simple car accident took lives
of innocents who were just waiting to accomplish something. It was your friends and you driving
in the car that same day. A split second difference would have rescued you. A party caused it all;
just to hang out with the popular crowd was enough to destroy everything. They’re negative
influences of ditching school and being like the rest, soared in you. Zooming over a red light
made you crash into another car. Blood stained the roads, but nobody saw you alive. You crawl
away with your disappearance unknown. The last things etched upon your friend’s faces were
mystery and confusion. What were they thinking during their last minute, you’ll never know.
From that day on, you were misled into a path of war with yourself. Continuous battles
fought in the journey, and only one selected for victory. Even though the ugly virus won, a bit of
hope reappeared after a long time of excruciating pain.
It is now time to unclench those memories engraved deep into your heart. Now you could let go
of the toxins.
“I guess now things weren’t the way you thought, but the thought will always haunt you
reaching the out-stretch of the great vastness from the universe”.
“ So now there is a simple question remaining. Is everything just a deep
misunderstanding masked in the imagination of an illusion?”
28
Soulless Sestina
by Lauryn Jones
The sun slowly blossoms the flowers,
as the young girl watches without regard to the clock.
She watched slowly upon a rock,
still as a corpse.
You can hear the soft cries of her baby
She isn't cut out to be a mother.
Slowly, she rises, for a child needs a mother missing the blossoming of flowers, grabbing the
crying baby, she comforts it while staring at the clock.
The child is cold as a corpse,
still as a rock.
She takes the baby and returns to the rock, the baby and her soulless mother.
The air is still, like the breath of a corpse.
Which they lay upon the dirt, the freshly blossomed flowers.
She throws into a lake her wrist-watch clock and cradles the sleeping baby.
She sets down the sleeping baby,
as she sits upon a rock.
The baby coughs like the tick-tick of a clock.
The small baby enlightens the mother.
She is fully awake playing with the flowers upon the grave of the corpse.
The mother removes the baby from the corpse,
so then the cries shoot from the baby
The baby shakes the grounds and kills the flowers,
As she bangs upon the rock.
It is just you and I, thinks the mother,
as the seconds turn on the clock.
The tick-tock can still be heard from the clock
it annoys even the corpse.
The soulless, screaming mother,
for she drops in the lake her "precious" baby.
She bangs her head against a rock.
The wind blows upon her back a flower.
Mother meets the flower,
and baby meets the clock,
and so it has always been, the corpse lies under the rock.
29
My Love
by Madelynn Jullette
Love is a white lie
It runs in my veins
At the bottom of a streaming river
Filled with tears of rain
Being without the one
I indeed grow abore
No longer will I stand for this
Not anymore
The one day I attain
Something in my presence will remain
A star, a twinkle
Brighter than the sun
And angel appears
My love has come
A Love at first sight, it feels so unreal
But it's not a dream, a gorgeous appeal
It will last forever
To never be severed
It's like a secret, too discreet
We can't tell anyone, we are elite
We love to be loved, more than love
Up and above
An epiphany dwells upon us
Thus, our love is greater than immensity
This feeling (I thought only imaginative)
is eternal
I'll protect you like a clam to a pearl
You are my one
My one and only
Please never leave
I hate being lonely
There will be no discrimination
I love you too much
We are perfect
30
A magnificent relation
If you disappear because of death
I will follow thee
I love you and you love me
Just one kiss, so powerful between
A life lived and meant to be
We're meant to be
You and me
31
Oven
by Kayla Landers
oven
big gray
preheating baking roasting
you bake delicious cake
furnace
32
Treasure
by Kayla Landers
I lay beneath the ground
but I do make a sound
you’ll hear me rattle
like chains on A saddle
although I LAY HERE and I STAY here
I HOPE TO BE FOUND SOME DAY
33
Stanley's Accomplishment
by Sanjana Mazumdar
Julianne huffed, and stared at the ceiling.
"Ughhhh... Cousins... Family... Oh, how I absolutely HATE when people visit our farm!"
Julianne, who preferred the name Juli, put on her horse riding outfit and helmet and
stormed down the stairs.
"Julianne! Your cousin Sara's here!" Juli scowled. She didn't like her annoying, picky, I'mprettier-and-smarter-than-you-and-you-know-it cousin. "Well, I'm going to go ride Stanley," she
said. "He's WAY more fun than greeting bratty Sara!" Not waiting for a response, she opened the
door and stalked outside. Just then, a bright red convertible pulled up, and in was Sara, and her
fancy dad, Luke. She waved and faked a smile as she went to the stables. In the distance, she
could hear Sara calling her, saying, "Julianne! Julianne! Wait for meeee!!!" She sighed and
pretended to not hear her.
Juli fed Stanley carrots and then cleaned her mane. She was just letting her out when Sara
came, her long, braided hair a complete mess, and some smudges of - dirt?- on her pink flowery
dress. Her shoes, well, they were another story.
"Julianne, Julianne, I called your name so many times," she panted. "So? And don't call me
JULIANNE anymore. It's Juli." Sara looked as if she saw a ghost. "Juli? You go by JULI?!?!"
She burst out laughing. "Why, that's SO improper! You should make it Anne, or, at least,
JULIA!" Juli was furious at her snobby cousin. She stepped so close to her face that she could
see the little fleck of mascara under her eye. She studied her carefully for a second before she
hissed, "Don't you EVER tell ME, JULI, what to do. You got it?" Sara shrunk back and bobbed
her head. "This is MY FARM, not YOURS! And don't go snooping around my room, don't touch
my animals, and, most of all, don't even dare THINK that you can ride Stanley!" With that, the
horse neighed. Realizing that she needs to ride, she stalked past Sara, leaving her in the stables
with all the horses staring at her.
Sara felt hurt. How could her cousin think like that? 'I'll show her,' she thought. 'I'll show
her my capabilities!' Sara had some horse riding lessons from her school, before her dad decided
to teach her at home instead. She decided she would watch Juli ride her horse later, when she
wouldn't be so mad. She went up to her room and took a long shower, then changed into new
clothes and slept.
Meanwhile, Juli was fuming, but she decided to keep calm and focus on what she loved
best -- horse riding.
Once Juli said good-bye to Stanley and the other horses, she went to her room and washed
up. She then went to Sara's room to apologize for her behavior earlier. They then promised to try
not to shout and get mad at each other. It was dinner time then. Sara then asked Juli's mom if
they could eat outside.
Juli tried not to ask too many questions, she had to admit, Sara's life was pretty interesting
in a sad way. They lived in a mansion, just Sara and her dad. Her mom had died when she was 2,
leaving Luke to raise her himself. They talked about other things too, such as Juli's horses and
her other favorite animals.
Sara had begged Juli to watch her ride and give her a lesson or two. Each day, morning and
evening, they would come out. In the morning Juli would ride and give her tips, which Sara
jotted down to remember. In the evening, she would ride again, but instead, make Sara tell her if
she was doing something wrong or what to do, kind of like a test to see if she remembered.
34
One week had gone by, and Sara was desperate to get at least ONE chance to ride the
horse.
It had been exactly one week and Sara was ready to ask her, and ready to ride. That
evening, she let Juli finish her lesson, then walked up to her and went down to her knees and
said, "I, Sara Tide, kindly ask you to allow me to ride your beautiful Stanley ONE TIME." Juli
was surprised, but then studied her carefully for a few long seconds. Finally, after what felt like a
millennia, Juli replied and said, "No." She then turned away and led her horse to the stables. Sara
was furious. "Why?!?!" She asked. "Why, why, WHY?!?!"
"Because, I said no, and, as I told you, I won't allow you! If I don't allow my parents to ride
him, what makes you think I might say YES to you?" She started walking back to her house
when Sara whispered, "Because I thought you were my friend." Her lip wobbled, then she ran for
the house. Juli just stared. Stared and stared and stared. 'What have I done?' She walks back
inside and goes to bed that night without eating.
The next day, Sara wakes up at 4:30 in the morning. She checks to make sure no one is
awake, then goes outside to the stables and greets Stanley and the other horses. She feeds them
carrots, then she brushes Stanley's mane. At first, Stanley was uncomfortable, but she quiets him
down as she gets on his back. She says "Whoa!" many times, but after riding in circles, she gets
used to it. She decides to go on the obstacle course. At first, she thinks it’s really easy, then,
Stanley starts to go faster, the obstacles becoming closer, till the point where she can't control
Stanley. She pulls on his reins and yells at him to stop, but he doesn't listen. She finally sees the
last obstacle come into view. 'Finally, 3...,2...,1.-!' She screams. Stanley jumps over the obstacle!
He then runs and comes to a stop.
"Sara, that was great! Oh, my gosh, I can't believe you made him jump over the last
obstacle! Juli has been trying to make him jump over the last one for MONTHS!!!" Just then,
Juli comes running to Sara, hands outstretched. "Eeeeeekkk!! I can't believe you made him do
that!" She looks into her eyes. "I'm still mad at you though. But mostly happy!" She cheers up.
Her mom tells them that they should celebrate Stanley and Sara's accomplishment. Once their
party is over, the two girls go out and give the horses a special treatment. Sara and Juli become
good friends, and every summer, they enter in horse racing competitions, and win!!!
35
Our Paths
by Erin Melican
He opened the door to find her standing there, crying. He wanted to comfort her. He
wanted to explain everything. Tell her it was alright. She’d be okay. She’d get better. She’d feel
stronger after she healed. However, he just couldn’t bring himself to give the support she so
desperately needed.
He knew it was a lie. He knew that having your soul mate ripped away from you before
you even had the chance to connect was not something you recovered from. Most people wander
through life, never knowing that they could have so much better. They never knew the world that
could be theirs, if only they had said “Hi!” to that person that caught their eye that ordinary day
in that random, insignificant place that now was a faded memory.
She knew. They both knew from experience the old line “it is better to have loved and
lost then to have never loved at all” only applied in the mundane world of petty romance. This
was not that. This was a soul that had been horribly torn down the middle into ragged,
incomplete pieces and shoved into two different bodies. They finally met and had the chance to
once again reconnect. In this case, they had not done a very good job of it. They had fought and
argued; antagonizing each other from the moment they had met to the moment he left. These
things take time, but there had been a problem – they didn’t have time. Their arguing and
bitterness was to cover the scars they both held and were so desperate to not gain more of. They
were trying to protect themselves, not knowing it was the end. That their lives had convened for
a short period of time and now their paths diverged and there was no way to reconvene them.
Her soul mate was not coming back. Her soul mate was gone forever.
And for that, he joined her in mourning.
36
Marian Mendy
37
L'appel du vide
by Alex Miles
I stand at the precipice
afraid. Not that I will fall,
but that I will jump.
38
Perchance to Dream
by Alex Miles
To sleep; perchance to dream
For when you dream
The stars scatter
And drift into fireflies
Skyscrapers become great trees
And the darkness wraps around
Like a warm blanket
And your imagination
Runs on no leash
Away from the stark
Reality of the lit world
Travel through cities
Impossibly defying
The laws that govern the waking
Speak to the gods
Far above
Drifting along their cities
Made upon the clouds
The mask of day
Is ripped away
Revealing to yourself
You
Under the sun
You may fool yourself
But when the moon
Shines its silvery light
The charades fall
By the wayside
Revealing to yourself
You
Fall into sleep’s embrace
Fall prey to its fantasies
And wonders beyond imagination
39
If only you sleep;
Perchance to dream
40
Sonnet II
by Alex Miles
Oh, if I could change the world with a sigh, I should like the world in a teacup.
I might have gems of all hue, silks and suede too, and feast on caviar and champagne sweet as
morning dew.
And I might have you.
Your lips firm, your breath sweet, your body a temple with a holy mass, its bread on golden
plates, its wine in jeweled cups.
I could make surer your eye will not wander, make sure my arms would be your home, that, to
me, you would always, and forever, be true.
I could make you music with the winds, skies and trees, make the seas sing, the snows whistle,
the clouds ring sweetly, and the grass beat out a tattoo.
Oh, if only what I wanted could be mine with a sigh. I could make the very stars in the sky break
up.
Yet what might it be, if sighs were enough to change worlds, and that teeny tiny teacup was
enough for ours?
Would those lips be as firm, would that breath be as sweet? Or would your body be like ash in
my hands, dry and useless, worthless and common?
Would you truly love me? Would I truly love you? If I could but sigh, and make the world new?
Surely real love, true love, must dissolve when reality unwinds, when faced with such awesome,
terrible powers.
So if we should meet on the raging, rapid river of live, I suppose it is good that these powers are
beyond the realms of man.
It is good that I may not sigh, and make the world new, for, though I may fail, I know I may have
with you, a love true.
I truly am glad that I can’t change the world with a sigh
For surely if such things were true, surely both love, and I, would die
41
“It looked more like a skeleton…”
by Hida Morrison
It looked more like skeleton than anything no matter what the public was told. The supposed
“grand” invention for prosthetics was a skeleton; the piece of it was like a polished marrow. The
flat hand - which had been embellished with superfluous detail in the center in order to prove
that it still was not an skeleton - moved more like a dead…object. An automaton at the least. Its
movements were not so free like, every twist and turn even the slightest bend in them, came a
chorus of rusty creaking noises.
Though it could be admitted that these prosthetic arms were better than the older ones - the ones
that were composed of small golden gears that needed constant attention, freeze every time
you’d attempt to bend your arm and make even worse creaking sounds than these current ones.
These current ones, thankfully, did not need as much maintenance as its predecessor but the
genius who thought it’d be a better idea to use iron rather than the previous bronze metal, was
wrong when it was found how the machinery rusted much faster than intended.
It was back to the drawing board then.
42
A Midnight Journey
by Sruthi Morusupalli
Listen my friends,
And you shall hear,
Of the midnight journey,
Of Sruthi Morusupalli.
A step of glory,
A step of delight,
It’s time to go on a trip,
In the moonlight lit night.
A hidden step reveals to thee,
A glint of light seen only by me,
I step inside, unafraid to roam,
But wait, I wonder, will I ever get home?
This new world,
So dark and scary,
A wonderful addition of courage,
To my recently planned autobiography.
Tick tock goes the midnight clock,
When all the lights are low,
All the streets are empty,
Due to cold, bright snow.
I wonder how that is possible,
For you can mainly see,
Where I came from, it is, after all,
A summer without sleet.
Every now and then,
A wolf will sing its howl,
That creepy little wail,
Which reminds me of a growl.
A couple of times this evening,
I just happened to see,
A few little birds,
Just grateful to be free.
Now I wonder…
Where am I?
How do I get back?
Where do I sleep?
Wait… Are my parents looking for me?!?
Then I come to a gruesome sight,
With ghosts and goblins that give me a fright,
And a couple of minutes later, much to my undelight,
Appeared an old lady with terrible looking sight.
43
She squinted at me,
Her eyes like fire,
Bore a hole in my back,
Totally not to my desire.
Then it came to me!
I needed to….fleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
I jumped over bushes and anthills,
Trees and mountains were easy to climb.
I was following my soul,
Running so fast that I couldn’t even see!
Well, maybe too fast…‘Cause at that moment, I ran out of my dream,
And plopped onto the bed.
I guess I tripped on my pillow,
That being well said.
44
Cycle of Life
by Sruthi Morusupalli
Life is a series of endless paths and stories,
along with many enjoyments and miseries.
You learn a lot, enjoy a lot,
You cry a lot, upset a lot…
From the day you start kindergarten,
From the year you graduate college,
From the day you lost your first tooth,
to the day you got your braces off.
So much has changed since the beginning,
So much has occurred during,
But the beginning is the ending,
And the ending is the beginning.
But the one thing you must remember
throughout each stage is that life is life,
your existence is due to life.
And so is your happiness,
and your sadness,
your excitedness,
And every other inch of feeling you had due to your being.
But as something new starts,
something old ends,
And along goes the cycle of life,
And takes you along with it.
45
When We First Met
by Maia Mott
Christine woke up to beams of light streaming in through her bedroom window. She
stretched, yawned, and tried to make a quick decision on what she would accomplish that day. It
was September, now, and school began in a matter of days. These last few days were her final
moments of freedom. What should she do with her time? Any decision was hard for her,
especially quick ones, which was exactly why she started her quirky Magic-8-Book decision
making technique, making her favorite novels her mystic guide to the right choices. She would
open a book and let it decide her destiny. Today she closed her eyes and randomly picked a book
from under her bed and opened Lemony Snicket’s, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can’t
Avoid… “A good library will never be too neat, or too dusty, because somebody will always be
in it, taking books off the shelves and staying up late reading them.” With a grin, Chris started to
get dressed.
That afternoon, and carrying one too many books, Christine bounded down the stairs of
the library, her brown and auburn-streaked hair swinging around her cheeks as she made her
quick descent. Once school started again, she knew she'd be more focused on her classwork.
Daydreaming, on the last step to the first floor her foot slipped, and she fell, hitting the
concrete stairs with a decided kerplunk. Her books flew out of her hands and onto the steps
around her, each of them landing open on various pages. She groaned, closing her eyes and
rubbing where her lower back crumpled against the offending step.
"Need some help?" An amused voice asked, Christine's face warming at the fact that
someone was now a witness to her clumsiness. She looked over her shoulder and saw a dark
blond-haired boy running down the stairs to help her. He started picking books up, quickly
looking over what she'd planned on checking out with a smirk on his face. Christine was frozen
in place, mesmerized by the whiskey-colored eyes, and the boy's lips as they moved when he
read the descriptions of a few of her choices.
"'Howl's Moving Castle'? Isn't that a movie or something?" The mysterious boy asked,
finally tearing his eyes away from the books to look at the dazed girl on the stairs. All she could
manage was a nod; he set the books down and knelt beside her, his teasing look quickly melting
into one of concern.
"That was quite a fall you took there, you all right?" Christine knew that by now her
blush had creeped from her neck to the top her cheeks; his fingers pressed gently against the
back of her head, and he looked her over quickly for any other signs of injury.
She realized she should probably speak up since he asked, "U-Um... I don't think so,
thanks. I’m fine." Chris pushed his hands away, and he held them up in defense. He sat down
next to her –waiting for her to collect herself.
He smiled at her, a crooked grin that made him look particularly mischievous. "You got a
name or should I call you Princess-Reads-A-Lot?"
"Christine," she said, "most people just call me Chris, though."
"I like Christine better," he admitted, sitting down next to her, "it suits you. Do you go to
school around here?"
"I do," she said slowly, glancing over at him, "what about you, Prince Assumes-TooMuch?"
"Yes, that would be me," he replied, and almost proudly added, "My last year here. I'm a
senior this year. My real name is Gabriel when I am not playing a Prince."
46
She nodded, "D-Do you go to Gracevalley or Rockworth?"
"Gracevalley," he replied, "what about you?"
“I just transferred to Gracevalley, but I’ll be a Junior, though.”
He thoughtfully nodded and stood up, holding his hand out for her to take, glancing back
over his shoulder at the stack of books he’d placed on the stairs at their feet. He picked up the top
book and opened it to and began to read aloud.
He made a face, not even remotely fluent in Latin, his tongue having difficulty
pronouncing the words, “Nunc scio quid sit amor? You read in Latin, what did I just read?”
“Sometimes,” she responded, flushed at his romantic monologue, grabbing the next book
on the stack, “it took me a while to learn, but I had the time on my hands. Y-You just said, ‘now
I know what love is’. Well, kind of, at least. You were close.”
She bent down in an attempt to pick up the rest of the stack, then straightened up to her
full height and still having to look up at him. He was much taller than her, which wasn’t saying
much because most people were, but he towered over her even more so than others. His eyes
were dancing over her in a playful manner that she wasn’t exactly used to receiving from guys
from her school. She cleared her throat and looked down quickly, a strand of hair falling in front
of her face. What was her magic-8-book doing giving him that quote to read aloud to her?
“Erm… Thank you for picking up my books,” she replied softly, the tip of her off-brand
sneakers drawing small circle on the floor in front of her. She was waiting for a television crew
to pop out from behind the stairwell and for Ashton Kutcher to come out announcing that she’d
just been punk’d.
“Aren’t you going to read me a snippet from a book, now?” He asked, catching her offguard.
“What? Oh, sure, I guess,” she stammered, opening the one in her hands, Howl’s Moving
Castle. She braced herself and read, shakily, “‘I think we ought to live happily ever after.’”
He smirked leaning against the railing, and watching her closely. “Really? Prince Assumes-TooMuch and Princess Reads-A-Lot living happily ever after? I mean, I can see it happening, but the
wedding invitations are going to cost a lot, just because of the ink alone.”
Christine smiled, and shook her head, “That’s why it’d be easier just to go with e-vites.”
“But what if all of our subjects don’t have the technology for invites?” He teased,
continuing the game they had going.
Christine’s eyes widened and she swiftly decided to change the subject, biting the corner
of her mouth and mumbling quickly, “I had better go. I will be late for dinner. I guess will see
you at school next week?”
He nodded, and sighed, almost a little disappointed that she had to leave. “I’m counting
on it, sweet cheeks,” he called to her, sauntering out the double-doors of the library.
She stood there frowning when she saw a long blond haired girl approach him at the door
with a smile on her face. They left together; the pair of them beaming and laughing to their
heart’s content at something. A joke, Christine wondered, was it about her? Was it her
clumsiness that they were so giddy to laugh about? Was it the book readings they did?
The more that Christine thought about her interaction with the strange boy who picked up
her books, she felt increasingly irritated toward the strangeness of it all. It wasn’t like she was
some damsel in distress that needed rescuing. Well, she may be a damsel, and she was in
distress, but she could’ve picked up the books herself. She didn’t break anything, at worst she
had a bruise or two. And, moreover, she didn’t need, or want, some cocky boy coming along and
acting heroic, like she couldn’t be her own hero.
47
She decided as she headed out to her car that she would let him find her on Monday; it
wasn’t like she hadn’t been doing perfectly fine in the first place without him. She opened the
top book in her lap, Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins and mused aloud, “You love me. Real or not
real?" I tell him, "Real.” Frustrated in what Magic-8-Book was saying, she grabbed another
book, The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen, “There is never a time or place for true love. It
happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.”
Christine smiled and decided that she was looking forward to school starting after all. Her
Magic-8-Book says that this year will be her year for romance.
48
Dream
by Sarah Nehring
All I want to do some nights is star gaze. I just want to lay on my bed and look at the night sky
and watch the clouds come like waves in the sea slow and steady . Then I'll watch the rain come
down Drip ... Drop ... Drip ... Drop slowly. Then the rain starts to speed up Drip, Drop, Drip,
Drop. Then I wonder what mother nature is thinking about. I think so long sometimes my
thoughts become dream and in dreams you have to realize at some point that you have to wake
up and think about mother nature again, think about what her thoughts are and I take a look
outside my window and watch the rain slowly come to a stop just like they have finished a race.
Someone once told me " Start fast, Finish strong" but in the race of the rain drops they don't do
that they start slow and finish slow. The rain drops work hard in the middle so they don't have to
in the begging or the end. We are like rain drops we start slow when we are kids and work hard
in the middle so we don't have to when we get old.
49
Sunset
by Mia Palmer
The sunset marks another beautiful day behind us, with its warm joyful colors following the
setting sun, go inside kids and get ready for bed, as we watch the sun lower just overhead, we sit
and we watch it until the wind chills our bones, then we walk home, with the sunset behind us,
and wait for the stars to come out and the sun to rise again.
50
Floating
by Kelly Scheurich
She lost herself
In an ocean of despair
Heartbreak
Regret
And failure
Became her anchor
But she stayed afloat,
Faking it all
Happiness
Peace
And a good life
These stories became her buoy
And eventually,
She became her own stories
Still
The anchor of her past pulled her below,
Slowly...
But surely
She kept floating
51
Lives un-lived
by Kelly Scheurich
What a shame
That the girl that was a princess
Tiara on her head
Walking in her mother’s heels
Is now
The girl who sits alone
In her misery and despair
And misses out
On the beauty of life
What a shame that the boy
Who was a warrior
The adventurer
The future soldier
Is now
Spending his days
Praying
For something great to happen
Even though
His life is beautiful already
52
our world
by Kelly Scheurich
Can you help me?
I want to
Blossom
Like a daisy,
But unfortunately
This world is crazy.
I can help you,
Baby...
I'll be your world
And embrace
Your soul,
But I'm already crazy...
In love with you
53
The Beginning of Summer
by Steven Scott
The beginning of summer
Is not a bummer
The sun is hot
And you can swim a lot
You can stay up late
Or you can go on a date
There is a lot to do in the summer
That is why it is not a bummer
54
Night is…
by Nidhi Shah
Night is a sudden and infinite darkness.
Night is fear gnawing at our souls.
Night is pain throbbing deep within our hearts.
Night is indifferent people without diversity.
Night is fields of endless silence.
Night is a life of terror without purpose or love.
Night is the final stop.
Inspired by the book Night by Elie Wiesel
55
Anisa Sukumaran
56
DIARY OF ASHIDE LUSHAN:
Journey Across the Silk Road
by Twila Ternida
April 27, 695
Hello, I am Ashide Lushan, a Sogdian noblewoman living in the Fergana Valley with her
father, Yu Lushan, during 695 C.E. The Fergana Valley is unfortunately far away from
Chang’an, the place that we are destined to go. Before I tell you about my future endeavor, you
should know a little about my life. I live in the Fergana Valley and follow one of the most
common religions, Zoroastrianism. It was founded by Zoroaster, who promotes the worship of
Ahura Mazda, the god of wisdom. I hope he will answer my prayers of safe travel. Now allow
me to introduce the journey. I am a renowned horseback archer, so my father has decided to take
me on the longest journey I will ever travel: the Journey of the Silk Road. Father and I are in
control of the finest horses in all of the Fergana Valley. Our horses are treasured by the Tang
military, so my the Tang imperial court invited my father to discuss a trading. I came along to
impress the Tang envoys, to convince them to buy our strong, beautiful horses. I may seem
formal and calm, but in truth, I'm scared to death! Not because of stage fright, but I fear that I
will go, but never return. Can one really survive the Silk Road, with all its harsh conditions? I
wish that I could forget about all this chaos and sleep. After all, we are leaving tomorrow, early
in the morning. I will say my prayers to Ahura Mazda and hope that he will help me tonight.
-
Ashide Lushan
May 1, 695
A few weeks have passed since we left the Fergana Valley, and I’m greatly concerned about
our traveling horses. They move in a fast, smooth gallop across the bumpy terrain, but I fear they
won’t make the whole trip. My father and I surely brought the strongest horses we have, but I
still worry about the conditions they must travel through. Indeed, we’ve hit many hardships
already, including rocky, dry grounds; we barely made it through! Recently, my father informed
me about his current plan for travel. Unfortunately, we are joining a camel caravan, a group of
travelers, camels, and extra mouths to feed. Father believes in safety in numbers, but who would
like to spend months with stinky, ugly, and ungraceful monsters who gobble down thorns? Not
me, obviously! Unfortunately, I’ll just have to go with the flow. I hope I will get used to the
Ships of the Desert.
-
Ashide Lushan
May 12, 695
My first thought of traveling was not of bringing along anything to trade. Now I think that it
was smart of my father to bring along a few clay sculptures. They were built by the finest
57
craftsmen of Sogdiana, and I feel that we could trade some of them for goods in Kashgar,
Dunhuang, and Chang'an. We also carried our spices, rugs, and horses to get what we desire. In
Kashgar, we might try to barter for extra food and supplies. In Dunhuang, we will purchase even
more supplies, like porcelain and silk. And last but not least, in Chang'an, we will trade our
horses for many other precious items, which also include silk, rugs, and spices.
-
Ashide Lushan
April 28, 695
Ahhh, Samarkand. It's such a beautiful place, with its fruitful trees, flowing water, fertile soil,
and lovely gardens. Samarkand is one of the oldest, most important cities in Central Asia, and it
still stands proudly in the Zerafshan River Valley, providing many natural resources, along with
its exquisite surroundings and interesting culture. Just a few days ago my father and I arrived
with aching backs and sore limbs, lumbering awkwardly on weary horses toward the closest
civilization possible. Luckily, we found Samarkand, which was our next destination. I loathed
that my father had dragged me all the way across the Silk Road just to show the Tang Dynasty’s
Imperial Court our horses. Complaints poured out of my mouth the whole journey, until I was
struck by the beauty of Samarkand. My father suggested for me to research about Samarkand.
Amazingly, all the details were true! The beauty is definitely awe-inspiring, and I am now here
to see Samarkand’s amazing buildings. I am slowly forgetting the pain of traveling and am
looking forward to enjoying time with my family in Samarkand's elegance.
-
Ashide Lushan
June 15, 695
Who knew that traveling for a few weeks on horseback could make even a renowned
horseback archer desire a day without her mare? I guess it's true that you learn something new
everyday! We already passed Kashgar, a bustling city full of goods and special products, and are
now on our way out of the Taklamakan Desert. We succeeded in trading some of our clay
sculptures for supplies, and I’m starting to have fun on this journey.
I’ve now learned what it’s like to live with camels. It’s terrible! They sway like ships,
bray like donkeys, and gobble our food like sloppy pigs! However, they did save my life. For
weeks, we plodded through the “Sea of Death’s” brutal dust storms and shifting sand dunes,
survived the scarce water conditions and the food shortage, and because of them, I’m elated to
declare that most of us have come through the monstrous desert alive. Unfortunately, after all
that pain and loss we experienced, we must go through it again, though the risks are reduced by a
large amount. The Gobi Desert isn’t as bad, and with our new supplies and a good night’s sleep,
we’ll fly through the Gobi like an eagle!
I’m also looking forward to spending our time in Dunhuang for sightseeing. We will visit the
Mogao Caves’ beautiful, well-preserved Buddhist artwork, and another colony of Sogdians who
will tell us their own stories! Just thinking about all the activities we’ll participate in makes me
hesitant to sleep! However, I’ll have to pass the Gobi, prepared, before I get to Dunhuang.
58
-
Ashide Lushan
July 21, 695
What a long journey! After many weeks of loss and pain. We have finally reached
Chang’an, and I am about to perform in front of the Tang Dynasty. I’m glad I studied about
Chang’an and am not completely lost on directions. Chang'an is known for its beautiful
architecture, and the buildings in the busy metropolis include many temples and shrines of
various religions. I’ve read about many of these religions, but none of them are as convincing to
me as Zoroastrianism.
Nevertheless, the Daming Palace and the pagodas of Dayanta and Xiaoyanta are very
beautiful. Chang’an has had 12 gates over the course of history, and I hope that we went through
the Kaiyuan Gate! However, now is not the time for humor. Forgive me for my haste, but it is
finally time to perform! I know that I had better make this performance count, now that I have
survived the Silk Road! My heart fills with gratitude and warmth, there’s no room for anxiety.
I’m grateful that I get to perform in front of the Tang Dynasty’s Imperial Court, because now I
know what hard work truly is.
-
Ashide Lushan
August 12, 695
What a journey! Never, in my life, have I experienced something so touching and so
beautiful! I never believed that traveling across a blustering, stubborn desert was beautiful, but if
you think about all that you’ve accomplished, then you’d see through the pain. You would see
the beauty of hard work. I definitely saw the beauty, especially when the Tang Imperial Court
agreed to trade with us! We earned all that we had wanted, riches unseen in the Fergana Valley. I
was overjoyed, more than any of my traveling companions. Our hard work paid off!
Every time our group went through a loss or experienced pain, I was discouraged, but now we
made it through. I somehow managed to find the bright side in every bad situation. Our first loss
was when we were traveling through the Taklamakan Desert. We lost quite a few of our camels
and our travelers during a dust storm, but the rest of our travelers were fine. Our second loss was
also in the desert, when we ran out of food and water. There was only enough for 10 of us. The
rest--well, you know. Even though we experienced tough times, we experienced many good
times: the beautiful skies, the one fertile strip of land that we crossed, and even my performance.
Luckily, we didn’t just trade with Chang'an, but with Kashgar and Dunhuang. They places
provided us with rest and supplies. I’m glad we survived, because I learned more than just camel
riding. I learned that if you want something accomplished, you must work toward that goal,
every chance you get, because it will pay off in some way.
-
Ashide Lushan
59
A New Perspective
by Ilma Zamurad
I honestly believe that if the meaning of life is an eternal issue for you, the only people
you can trust with an answer worth listening to that doesn’t require testing your strength to a
grueling climb of a Himalaya, you should probably engage in conversation with a four year old.
Not a prodigy four year old who can play the piano like Beethoven or paint so well that they
have their own exhibit of their swirls and creativity. Just a regular four year old who you’ll
probably find in front of a television set or in the aisles of a grocery store bugging their mother
for a toy that they have absolutely no interest in besides the fact it is “pretty”.
Honestly, what do you want to know about the meaning of life? More than likely your
questions birth from an existential crisis that began because you spent seven too many hours
scouring the internet for a new Japanese cartoon to watch because the last several hundred you
chose the previous month have already finished. But that’s the beautiful thing about life. Not the
fact that today’s society relies on cartoon to keep ourselves entertained but because it makes for
curiosity to have a fresh grip on you. And who is more curious than a toddler? Someone young
enough to work on whims and someone old enough to make sense of a few handful of words
provided you promise them a trip to a candy store.
It’s a beautiful thing, really. To think and wonder. Granted, the beauty tends to disappear
after the thinking becomes questioning to the extent of the circuitry to destroy humanity – but
when done in moderation, it really does seem to have a kind of beauty to it. Your mind is starting
to create ideas and thoughts that wouldn’t have happened had you begun to ponder at life or
whatever it was you put your mind to.
But as we move forward into the age of technology and advancement, it has become a
lesser thing. Imagination is now frowned upon if it cannot produce results. Dreaming has become
saved for only the pillow and creativity belongs in the hands of the worthless – all because in
society we believe in substance, not thought. We want a tangible thing to savor, not a memory or
idea. We want real, not imaginative.
And that’s why a four year old is the perfect person to discuss life with. They want
colour, creativity, vibrancy – they don’t question stupidity. They embrace it. Stupidity isn’t just
acting like an idiot for moronic reasons – although that is a more common definition – stupidity
is living life with somewhat obliviousness because we don’t know when we’ll fall and how we’ll
get up. We just live for the moment.
Chances are, sitting down with a toddler won’t create a conversation worthy enough for
Harvard, but it does create a sense of humour in our lives. The four year old might not want to
talk to you at all. They probably won’t want to listen to you either. And that’s why the
conversation is beautiful. Because they won’t tolerate boredom. They only accept colourful
scenarios. For instance, you mention how stressful your work has become and, if they are willing
enough to even respond, they’ll say, “So?” But if you mention your favorite colour, they’re all in
for chatting up about how purple is much better than green.
Life is what you make it, not what it is. It will never be anything enjoyable if you do
nothing with it. Like a plain canvas. Had an artist never decided that their blank canvas deserved
more than white, would it have ever become a work of art? No. It wouldn’t have. They had to
bring themselves to the canvas and express themselves onto it with paint or whatever they used.
If you let life be what it is, it will be forever miserable.
60
For instance, if you see a child crying in the market because he or she did not get a toy
they desired, we have been practically morphed into not question why they are crying, but when
they will stop. Because we get annoyed with it. Because we are so much better than a weeping
kid. Yet, when we start to cry, nothing in the world matters more than why. Not when we’ll ever
stop – if we plan to – but why. Why we got fired. Why we got yelled at. Why we lost someone.
Why we failed.
And it’s just that. We let it take over us. We don’t do anything as we let ourselves fall
into the clutches of misery. Here are alternatives: instead of crying, stand up and take a breath.
It’s not a perfect world and we are not perfect people. We make mistakes, they make mistakes,
everyone makes mistakes. It’s just a fact of life. We will be sad sometimes and other times, we
have to stand back up and remember, it’s perfectly normal. It’s perfectly fine to be imperfect.
And we come back to the four year olds and life. When they cry, when toddlers cry, they
stop eventually. Not because they’ve moved on from that toy they yearned for, but because they
are tired. Because they don’t want to keep crying. They want to get up and move on because
subconsciously, they know that they’ll forget about it and keep living. One or even several bad
things are only as bad as you let them become.
So, in a sense, I suppose you could say four year olds can be more brilliant than full
grown adults. Four year olds don’t care about how they look because they could walk right out of
the house with a pair of wrinkled jeans and a shirt buttoned wrong and they wouldn’t mind. Four
year olds don’t worry about small things because they know, at some point and time, they’ll
move on from it. And for those and many more, four year olds hold the secret to eternal bliss.
Next time you feel an existential crisis coming your way, remember the one thing
every toddler has hardwired into their chemistry: Life is going to keep moving, so don’t question
it. Just go with it. And I want a cookie.
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