I T’ SA TALLTALE
Read i ng Short s t ori es The adventure wi th Ni cole.
ANN |JI MMY |JOE |SERENE
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Table of Contents
Preface
P.4
Authors’ Profiles
P.6
Analytical Writings
P.8
Narrative Writings
P.22
Creative Writings
P.38
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Preface For those who are reading the lines: Oh, you can’t imagine how time flies Remember we met for the first time? 108-2 Reading Short Stories was your cup of tea Cause you told me you liked stories; you liked me Let’s get started with 3 very short, short, stories A warm-up, a peek at the bottom of their heart Searching for it, struggling through it Savoring, sickening, or even suiciding for it Of course you needed a bit of time to digest all For vocab stood just in the way to make you fall “Read on,” I said, smiling and assuring “Enlighten yourself through reading As long as you do a bit of thinking Do think of it even when you’re eating” It’s said that epiphany is true No one can easily go through Get ur reading done for a clue 4
Preface Sammy would like to be an unsuspected hero Haunted House shelters love and no sorrow Open the door for the poor Cat in the Rain Reach the bazaar; Araby isn’t really that far Tell-Tale Heart is to listen to your own heart Shameful Affair is more than just a summer fling To Mildred, to be or not to be is always haunting Omelas or Lottery will be everlasting? Replay the time machine to find Braling It can also take you to Venus of storming Emily and her rose won’t be forgotten Short stories thrive in our lively garden
Ai-ping Liu 2020.06.08
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Authors’ Profiles
Ann
周歆晏
Jimmy 周浩鈞
Joe 高嘉豪
Serene 張倚瑄
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“Life is like a mirror. Smile at it and it smiles back at you.’’ By Peace Pilgrim
“If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?” By Percy Bysshe Shelley
“I saw the world from the stars' point of view, and it looked unbearably lonely.” By Shaun David Hutchinson
“Heroes are ordinary people who make themselves extraordinary.” By Gerard Way
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Part 1
Analytical Writings
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‘’Marionettes,Inc ” by Ray Bradbury
Written by Ann
Technology is very essential in our daily lives because it makes work and day-to-day activities easier. However, the water that bears the boat is the same that swallows it. The story ‘’Marionettes, Inc’’ is a depiction of a man worth of sympathy, Braling, who has taken advantage of technology but faced dreadful outcome in the end. Due to his awful marriage, poor Braling bought a robot with the view to substituting Braling two for himself in order to seek respite from his annoying wife. Additionally, he regards it highly ethical. In my perspective, Braling is truly a pitiful man whose life is ruined by a frantic wife. More importantly, he has contributed numerous efforts to endure his controlling wife in order to remain a peaceful relationship with her. Nonetheless, I can’t go all the away with Braling’s theory. Firstly, I consider the Bralings marriage is definitely a fundamental mistake because they do not love each other, let alone that Mrs. Braling has some control freak. Secondly, I’m convinced that purchasing an illegal robot is an improper act, because I firmly believe that there must be some reasonable factors such as moral issues for the government to ban the debut of those flawless clones. Thirdly, I deem that buying a robot is an act of deception and I’m strongly opposed to it. As the saying goes, ’’ Deceit is the false road to happiness. ‘’ Therefore, I do not agree with the act of beguiling his wife due to the fact that while one permits himself to tell a lie once, it is much easier to do it a second and a third time. For me, the pressure of repeatedly piling up lies is so unbearable and I believe that the wicked will eventually reveal their true color and take the consequences; Mr. Braling’s end is a case in point. To put in a nutshell, I disagree with Mr. Braling’s act including getting married with a lunatic, buying an illegal commodity and using a clone to fool his wife 9 though he is a pitiful man.
‘’The lottery ” by Shirley Jackson
Written by Ann
The story ‘’The Lottery’’ takes place at a rustic village with about 300 villagers dwelling in. There’s an annual activity where no one can be spared. That is, everyone is equal toward the cruel lottery. The one who selects the paper with a dot will be stoned to death by other villagers. I’m strongly opposed to this activity due to the fact that I despise the act of building one’s happiness on others’ agony. Next, I’m going to analyze that how the villagers build their happiness on others’ pain. In the story, Mr. Summers speaks frequently to the villagers about making a new box, but every year the subject is allowed to fade off without anything being done. This sentence implies that someone is seeking for a change, but most people are accustomed to the tradition; therefore, they turn a deaf ear to the suggestion. However, in my perspective, since Mr. Summers is the major character who helps conducting the lottery and also a squire of the village, if he strongly insists on abolishing the convention, maybe the lottery will no longer exist. On the other hand, the oldest man Mr. Warner says, ’’Lottery in June, corn be heavy soon’’ petulantly. This sentence describes the villagers’ superstitious mentality toward the lottery which results in their refusal to discard this tradition. Though it seems so reasonable for the execution of the lottery, the act of stoning a person to death is still unacceptable for me. To put a nutshell, I consider these two men the main accomplices of harming others’ life for the whole village’s harmony. Moreover, what the villagers concern may be neither tradition nor superstitious but human’s destructive tendencies. 10
Sometimes, people seek consolation in other people’s suffering. Hence, it is probable that the reason they decline the abolishment of lottery is not because of their superstition, but the fact that the lottery is a liberation of their inner violence. Additionally, the black box may be the symbol of a black heart which contains all the negative thoughts of the villagers. Every time the lottery begins, their dissatisfaction dispels and every time the lottery finishes, their irritation starts accumulating until the lottery held next year on June, 27th. Although they seems to be aware of killing their acquaintances, the villagers just cannot repress the evil inclination of seeing others suffer, so they brutally throw stones to Tessie. What is even more ridiculous is that the villagers do not feel any sense of guilt while throwing stones at Tessie, who just chats with them a few minutes before the penalty! Won’t they have any qualms about killing their dear neighbor? In short, all the villagers are murders whose happy life depends on others’ sufferings. Last but not least, if I were one of the villagers, I would neither grumble in private about the lottery which may make me seem more upright nor act so ruthless and throw stones at the scapegoat. As for me, I would choose to leave the old-school environment in pursuit of a more noble and beautiful life.
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“All Summer In A Day” by Ray Bradbury
Written by Jimmy
In this story, I find the problems about the teacher and the relationship between classmates. This story’s background is in the Venus, where there are many children, and they haven’t seen the sun before because there has been raining for seven years, but they are just nine years old. However, a girl named Margot has seen the sun before, because she moved to the virus when she was four, and in the earth, you can see the sun all year. Since Margot has seen the sun before, she missed the sun very much and often felt depressed. Other children begin to bully her because they are jealous of her. The teacher only stops them but doesn’t do anything else. Why does the teacher not want to do anything else? I think the teacher doesn't want to cause too much trouble, so she wants to make a huge problem smaller and trivialize it into nothing. After all, she is a teacher, not Margot’s mom or other children’s nanny. In the second half of the story, the children put Margot in a closet before the sun appears. And in the end, they let her go out. Why they have such a change? Since they have seen the sun, they are very happy about the sun because they never see it and the sun is such beautiful to them. However, the sun just appears only for a while, and the children realize that the sun will appear after seven years when the rain stops. They immediately experienced Margot’s mood and become compassionate to her, so they finally get her out. To sum up, as long as people get along, there will be conflicts, and we should learn how to resolve it.
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“A Haunted House” by Virginia Woolf
Written by Jimmy
In this story “The Haunted House”, the house keeps saying, “Safe, safe, safe,” for four times, and each time its tone is more exciting than the previous one. Why does the house do this? The house connects thread from beginning to the end. At the beginning, the ghostly couple want to look for the treasure in the house. They walk through the whole house and recall what they did in this house before. During the process, the house first says, “Safe, safe, safe” softly. When the couple look for treasure longer, the house says “Safe, safe, safe” from softly change to gladly. And in the third time the house says it proudly. In the last time, the house even says it wildly. I think as the beginning, the house is guiding the previous house owner (ghostly couple) to find the treasure which they want. When the couple are about to find, the house will be more exciting and ecstasy. As the couple find the treasure, the house says it wildly to express its euphoria. The house really wants them to find the treasure, so it guides them through these tones. In the end of the story, the ghostly couple find that the treasure isn’t entity, it’s the light in the heart. It means the treasure sustains affection, love memory among ghostly couple and the house. Though the owners of the house had been changed, house is there eternal and welcome everyone. The ghostly couple finally realize that the best treasure isn’t gold, money or others, it’s memory. Every story has an ending, but in life, every end is a new beginning.
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“Araby” by James Joyce
Written by Joe
How do you know if you’re really in love with someone? Maybe you don’t; in “Araby” written by James Joyce, the young protagonist gets hung up on his own false idea of love and has ended up hurting himself. From the start when the unnamed narrator falls madly in what he regards as “love” with a friend’s sister, we see him pining over her, longing for her affection constantly. However, the reason behind this instant adoration seems non-existent, for there’s basically no real interaction between them. Young boys often fantasize themselves falling in love with a burning desire, and they want to be in love so badly that they subconsciously put themselves in such position. Just like our narrator, not really understanding the meaning behind love, he has mistaken what he feels as something much more significant (maybe true love) but only to be disappointed later. We also can see that all the things stuck in the shy boy’s head are all the images of this girl or what she looks like, but never what she’s like as a person. The attraction stems only from the physical level; he doesn’t seem to know anything about the girl of his dream. Additionally, the object of his affection, Mangan’s sister, is exactly the typical subject of such adoration. The older sibling of a friend is often cast as the receiver of young naïve crushes, simply because they’re the opposite sex around them at the appropriate age. The narrator merely projects all his longing toward someone seemingly fitting. Last, the narrator shows his affection by staring at her from 14
afar, waiting for her to come out, then catching up on her, and offering to bring a gift for her from the bazaar, Araby. These actions may sound romantic at first, but on second thought, they are closer to stalker-like obsession fueled by the hormone. The narrator comes off as a silly side character in romantic movies smitten by the girl who doesn’t even know he exists, but he’d still do anything and go over the top to pursue her. The audience wouldn’t root for him; instead, they’d laugh at his ridiculous effort because being obsessed with someone is not the same as being in love with them. In the end, the narrator in the darkened bazaar has come to the realization that his idea of love is no more than an illusion, just like Araby is nothing of an “Eastern enchantment” he’s thought it’d be. The wrongful idealization of his feeling only leaves him with anger and regrets when it’s disillusioned.
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“Cat In The Rain” by Ernest Hemingway
Written by Joe
In “Cat in the Rain” by Ernest Hemingway, we can see the underlying representation of feminism and women’s urge to change. The American wife is the epitome of every woman in our society who’s fighting for what they truly desire and not afraid to take action to get what they want. The story has revolved around a cat out in the pouring rain, and the wife’s desire of rescuing it and keeping it. We can see the strong urge that made her get up and take the matter into her own hands. Even when her husband gives a half-hearted offer, or when the maid scoffs at the idea of a cat in the rain, she still wants to save it and she wants to do it herself. It shows how the wife is changing the traditional image of feminine women, who normally follow and depend on men. We can certainly see the wife as a portrayal of the women who advocate for equality in our society. Just like the wife, these feminists fight for the equality they deserve and they don't wait for others to do so. They take actions themselves. The thing they’re fighting for may sound ridiculous for those conservative minds, just like the cat in the rain, but they’re not going to give up, for the urge is too strong to stand down. However, throughout the story, the wife always seems to be in a lower position where people take pity on her and offer help. From her husband who offers to go get the cat himself and shushes her down like she is ridiculous for wanting various things in life, to the padrone who asks the maid to hold the umbrella, they all treat her in a slightly condescending way. I think this might be the way how some people look at the feminists and activists. Some people don’t 16
understand what they’re fighting for; they don’t see the burning urge inside those who are perusing the equality. As a result, instead of joining and supporting them, they stay on their imaginary high ground and feel sorry for those people seemingly beneath them. At the end of the story, despite her determination and action, the wife doesn’t find the cat herself; instead, the padrone asks the maid to deliver the cat to her in the end, which reflects an ironic situation in our lives. Even though it’s the women who try to fight tooth and nails for what they deserve, who actually participate in most activities and spoke the loudest, sometimes in the end, it’s up to men in their higher positions to enforce a change. It’s sad but true. The author used this story of a cat in the rain and the character of the American wife to paint a picture of women in the society who are fighting for change, then and now both. And behind those actions, it is the burning urge fueling them to pursue what they truly desire.
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“Araby” by James Joyce
Written by Serene
The setting of the story “Araby” reinforces the theme by using imagery of light and darkness, which illustrates how people often expect more than ordinary reality can provide and then feel disillusioned and disappointed. In those scenes without Mangan’s sister, which are closer to the reality, the narrator uses a lot of imagery of darkness. For example, “When we met in the street the houses had grown somber.” or “Back doors of the dark dripping gardens where odours arose from the ashpits.” We can see that the narrator uses more gloomy words when describing the scenes before the girl comes. But when Mangan’s sister shows up, which means kind of his fantasy in the story, the light appears. Before he mentions the girl, the setting of the story is all dark: at night, the air is cold, kids are playing through the dark muddy lanes behind the house. Until she shows up “Her figure defined by the light from the half-opened door.” and “Every morning I lay on the floor in the front parlour watching her door.”. These words with the meanings of bright, content, and hope are accompanied by the girl, and I think it’s all about to create a bright image of the heroine, the fantasy. In the end of the story, the narrator finally goes to the bazzar “Araby”, where the girl makes him go, and which is supposed to be a splendid place, with his mind full of expectations and wonderful fantasies. As a result, he finds out that the bazzar is not as good as he imagines; it’s dim and desolate, and the people there are indifferent. “I heard a voice call from one end of the gallery that the light was out. The upper part of the hall was now completely dark.” 18
In the darkness, the girl gives the boy desire and fantasy, making the boy think that he can get everything he wants, until the truth comes to his eyes. At the moment, all he can feel is disappointment and despair. After all, he can never catch the light. Thus, when the light dims, the fantasies bust; only the endless darkness and the boy’s broken heart are left.
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“A Rose For Emily” by William Faulkner
Written by Serene
If we compare Emily in “A Rose For Emily” and Mildred from “A Shameful Affair”, these two characters both fail in their relationship of love, but I think Emily’s tragedy has been caused by many external factors, but Mildred’s failure is made by herself. In my opinion, there are many factors that have caused Emily’s tragedy. First, she has been controlled by her controlling father until his death. “her father a spraddled silhouette in the foreground, his back to her and clutching a horsewhip, the two of them framed by the back-flung front door.” As a result, when she is thirty, she is still single. “We remembered all the young men her father had driven away, and we knew that with nothing left, she would have to cling to that which had robbed her, as people will.” Secondly, I think Emily is extremely lonely, no one really cares about her, including his dead father, and most of the towns people are joking at her. Last but not least, when she finally get rid of her father’s control, she fall in love with Homer Barron, then she found out desperately that Homer is gay. “Homer himself had remarked ─ he liked men.” In order to get happiness, she goes to the extreme way, which leads to the tragedy. On the other side, Mildred, who is a self-respecting woman, she is the one who falls in love with the farmhand first. Also, she is the one who takes action to get close to the farmhand. ““Are you fishing?” she asked politely and with kindly dignity, which she supposed would define her position toward him.” But, when the farmhand finally respond to her affection and kiss her, she turns to feel that dating with a farmhand and having been kissed by him is a shameful affair. Even when knowing that the farmhand is in the 20
same social status with her, she still insists not to accept him. “Mildred tried to think to feel that the intelligence which this letter brought her would take somewhat of the sting from the shame that tutored her. But it did not. She knew that it could not.” Comparing these two characters, we can see Emily’s tragedy has been caused not only the background of her family but also the world’s indifferent and mocking eyesight. However, Mildred, is the one who has limited herself, misfortuned herself, and made herself miss the chance of happiness at the end.
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Part 2
Narrative Writings
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Original Story Written by Ann Mom gave birth to me in Nantou, Zhushan in 1999. In my childhood, I used to live with my grandparents who treated me very well in a magnificent countryside. When I was five, mom and dad reached a consensus regarding sending me to Taoyuan for a more comprehensive education. After a painful farewell, I entered a bilingual kindergarten in Taoyuan. The kindergarten was spacious. There was a huge playground with the meadow perfectly weeded to play soccer on, a swimming pool surrounded by vegetation and some delicate European sculptures to swim in and various play facilities to play with. Two Taiwanese teachers were allocated to each class to take care of our daily lives and there was one major foreign teacher who taught us phonics, grammar and reading comprehension. In addition to English, we also took music, PE, math, Chinese and computer science courses in school. Food we ate was prepared by the central kitchen in school, from breakfast to snacks. The school life seemed so fine that we could learn a lot from different teachers, having such material comforts and the teacher assistant, who would even give every girl hair stylings after lunch break before we returned home. However, I only had few friends because I attended the school behind schedule and my classmates had already grouped up before my admission. Moreover, my homeroom teacher, Anita, hated me so much because my skin was so dark then and she considered me a peasant in contrast to my other cultured classmates whose parents were most doctors or entrepreneurs. She treated me so badly and sometimes blamed on me even when I was bullied by an evil classmate, Elva.
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Nonetheless, little Ann didn’t know anything about hate. Though she sometimes felt frustrated, her optimistic personality always rejuvenated her to move on. Afterwards, I met Janice, a kind-hearted introvert with fair skin who accompanied me in rest of my kindergarten life. We studied, played, chatted together every day. In spring, we listened to the pleasant birds’ singing. In summer, we stayed in the swimming pool in order to get rid of heat. In autumn, there was an annual barbecue for us to gorge on the delicious grilled beef kebabs and roasted corn and mooncakes we learned to make in the central kitchen. In winter, we stayed in the small-scaled library reading picture books together instead of shivering with cold outside the classroom. As the saying goes,“A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.” Janice was the best friend of mine in my youth when I was alone and in my hard time staying in Anita’s class. Regretfully, we lost contact after the graduation ceremony without leaving phone number or address to each other. In retrospect, the most laid-back part of my life was the time I dwelled in Nantou because nothing actually troubled me or made me down. The only people I knew were my family members who took good care of me and never upset me. Another joyful time was the school year in kindergarten when I made my first friend in my lifetime, Janice, who accompanied me and brought about numerous memories that I cherished so much since then. Along with my age growth, I’ve met some wicked people, suffered some unsatisfactory events and undertaken some unbearable pressure. I’ve understood the feeling of hate and even hated some people. Whenever I recalled the time before I was seven, I always couldn’t stop my tears from dropping down. They mourned for the losing of my innocence and the elapsion of the most fascinating time I had experienced.
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Nevertheless, I always felt better after the lament for my faded youth because I always knew that the beautiful memories would permanently support me in times of doubt and fear through my lifetime. Therefore, despite those inevitably suffering, it is still important to smile after we cry because life is a mirror. When you smile at it, it smiles back at you.
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Original Story
Written by Ann
To me, an only child in my family, I feel lonely after school because I don’t have any siblings to play with. Unlike an extended family, which was relatively common in the past, a nuclear family, composed of parents and their kids, has been the mainstream since the society evolved into an industrialized society. Though I indeed enjoy all to myself the material comforts like a rosewood piano which I can play with, a large desk at which I can read textbooks and novels to my heart’s content, and a comfy bed in which I can sleep soundly at night, the emptiness in my mind has never been foreign to me when I have no company by any same age companions. Fortunately, I’ve made some good friends after entering elementary school. While I was in the seventh grade, I met a boy who was so special to me that we shared similar personality. He fulfilled my dream to have a close age confidant. It was a chilly night after one year we were acquainted with each other, he sent me a message asking me if I was willing to be his valentine. I was stunned speechless after reading the message and plunged deep in my contemplation. Three days later, we held hands secretly in the corner of campus to avoid scolding and punishments from teachers. We often played the piano in the covert quarter of the field house during PE class, exchanging sweet words with each other and made a bucket list of things that we wanted to do together in the future. We planned our birthdays and anniversaries meticulously, making efforts to spice up the originally tedious school life. Unfortunately, we drifted apart after two years and we broke up after numerous quarrels resulted from 26
my suspicions about his loyalty to me. However, first love is everything all at once. It is the kind that you will never fall back from. It is a love so powerful and strong that it will never die, it will never fade and will never lose its sparkle for me; therefore, I tried to get him back, but he heartlessly turned down my request. I was overwhelmed with sorrow and confusion at the moment he shook away my hands, I couldn’t believe that our love had come to the end so quickly that I even fantasized to organize a family with him and enjoy every happiness and success in a long life together. With the advent of graduation, we haven’t seen each other since then. Well goes the saying’’ It will take decades to forget your first love, the person who has created a big impact in your life.’’ Though it had been eight years after our farewell, I was still not over it, so I plucked up my courage to ask him the reason why he refused to make up with me in those years. Finally, he confessed that his refusal to make up with me was due to his recognition of his sexual orientation. In fact, he gradually found himself a gay, so he couldn’t get together with me then. After I received the astonishing answer, I ultimately felt relieved and wished him a steady relationship with his recent soulmate. As the saying goes, ‘’First love will help one to grow up and the last love is what completes the person.’’ I’ve now encountered a perfect man, and I hope he will love me forever and ever, and that is what I am doing for him.
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“A&P” by John Updike
Written by Jimmy
In the story “A&P” written by John Updike, the man works in the supermarket which is called “A&P”. I have got some experiences related to supermarkets as well. Since I studied in elementary school, in the weekends, my mom sometimes went to night market to sell umbrellas. My mom usually took me to the night market together because she worried that I was left home alone. Sometimes I would help set up the booth, and when the customers left, I would help close the umbrella. Because sometimes the umbrella would be open to see the pattern of it, so I needed to close it. The dinners usually were iron plate noodles or fried rice. Sometimes, my mom would give me some allowance and let me go to play some games like pinball or electric racing car. That was my childhood, and at that time I thought work in the market was very exhausting. In last two winter vacations, I went to the 7-11, which is run by my relative, to have part-time job; sometimes it’s morning shift, and sometimes it’s night shift. This job has to do with a lot of chores, cleaning environment, helping customer settle the bill, organizing goods and stocking shelves…etc., and I have to face all kinds of customers. Although it’s very tiring to me, it gives me many opportunities to learn about myself and the society. I think this experience will make me grow.
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“The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson
Written by Jimmy
In the story “Lottery”, the residents of the town hold the lottery together. I had held events with others too. When I was in the first year of university, I joined the student association of Mathematics department, and I was assigned to the equipment section. When Christmas was approaching, the student association decided to hold the singing competition. Because I was in charge of equipment section, we needed to layout the site. And each section had to perform an activity, and we decided to perform “fire dance”. However, we didn’t use the fire. Instead, we used the rope, with ends of the rope tied with bottles, and we put the glow stick in the bottle to let it shine. On that day, we moved all equipment including chairs, tables, and other necessities. We started to furnish the equipment and waited for people to come, by the way, there are free pizzas and colas. To the middle of the singing competition, it was time for us to perform. We successfully performed and everyone was surprised and excited. Finally, the singing competition ended successfully, and we needed to clean up the venue. This experience has helped me a lot, and I realized that holding an event is not easy.
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“The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson
Written by Joe
In “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson, a cult-like village partakes a lottery tradition where the “winner” gets stoned to death. The dreadful fear of yourself being the one who draws the short straw reminds me of my own experience with drawing lot. From grade school to high school, almost every classroom I’ve been in all have this one thing: A tall can with about 30 chopsticks or sticks, each with a number written on it, representing each student and … our fate. I hated it, because every time a teacher asked a question to us and expected someone to answer, but of course no one would volunteer, the teacher would draw an unlucky soul to be sacrificed. I was that kind of kids who’d NEVER want to answer the question even if I knew the answer perfectly well. Because for me then, saying something publicly was like risking the chance of being ridiculed or humiliated. Even though a part me understood it’s mostly myself overthinking it, most of my classmates and teachers wouldn’t do such a thing, my mind always goes to the worst case scenario. I was a very insecure child at that age. So when a teacher asked a question, I would do two things. First, I’d wreck my brain and flip through my textbook hurriedly in a frenzy of panic, trying to come up with the answer teacher was expecting. At the same time, I’d cross my fingers, silently hoping someone, a courageous savior or a pretentious show-off, would step up and relieve my stress. However, most of the time, the only response would be the sound of paper rustling, and everyone would get their nose in the book, not daring to look up (because if you lock eyes with the teacher for even one millisecond, you’re it.) Then 30
came the part I dreaded the most, the teacher would declare that they were going to draw lot to decide since no one volunteered, and they’d start ruffling the sticks in the can. The light thudding of dancing sticks and the cheery tone of the announcement made it sound like a fun game almost, but it’s this moment that I’d start to get more and more anxious. The fear for the possibility of my number getting picked up made it a bit harder to breathe and my heartbeat just a little quicker. I’d stare at that can intensely like it’s going to make my stick disappear. Everything in my brain was panicking thoughts, like “What if it’s me?”, “What am I going to say?”, or “What if I freeze up and embarrass myself?” When the teacher picked out a single stick and read it, the second would feel like it slowed down to minutes. The wait for the outcome was an agony. Then came the announcing of the chosen number, the “winner”. Once it’s clear it’s not my number, the air returns to my lungs, and I’d take a breath, silently offering a little sympathy for the unlucky classmate, and things resumed as if nothing had happened. However, if the misfortune befell me, my stick got drawn despite my crossed fingers, it’d feel like the blood inside me suddenly froze up for an instant. But I knew it too well that there’s nothing I could do to change that. The only thing to do is accepting my unavoidable fate and bracing for the worst. As I got older, I discovered that I did get used to public speaking little by little. I am still not a big fan of it, but answering questions is nothing more terrifying than riding a bicycle. I also learned that it is okay to make a fool of yourself once in a while, for we’re only human and life’s too short not to laugh (even at ourselves). Therefore, for me, the drawing lot is no longer a dreadful event; it’s now merely a reminder of the shy student I once was. 31
“All Summer In A Day” by Ray Bradbury
Written by Joe
In “All Summer in a Day” by Ray Bradbury, the girl Margot has been shoved into a closet by her cruel classmates. That scene reminds me of my own experience with bullying, and some memories I never like revisiting. “Quiet, good at studying, and a bit introvert” --- those are the things I’m always being associated with, and they are mostly true. But back in junior high school, I was even more closed to myself. I was seen as “the good egg” in the class who’s not good at sports, seemed a little feminine, and so, so quiet. Looking back, I think those quality should probably make me an easy target for bullying, but I was actually not. I did get laughed at or picked on a couple times by the bullies in our class, but the kid who they were always tormenting was not me. It’s this short boy with a pair of goofy glasses hanging a bit lower on his nose, whose father was the PE teacher, who most students weren’t a fan of, in our school. The bully in our class was the typical one you could probably imagine: he’s got a cocky attitude, bad grades, and two sidekicks. He was always in trouble with teachers for various behavior, like tardiness, fighting, or insubordination. Every weekday in our class, I could see the bully and his crew picking on that short boy. From making fun of him, giving him awful nicknames, or pulling pranks, to making him do some disgusting things, or physical abuse. They never really stopped it until graduation. One time, just like in “All Summer in a Day”, they shoved the kid into the cleaning supply closet in the back of our classroom during a break. They locked it from the outside, so he couldn’t get 32
out of that cramped, small closet. I was there in the room to witness the whole thing, and for me then it’s not even a particularly unusual sight, sadly. He kept banging on the door asking them or anyone to let him out. Even in a busy classroom during the break, it’s hard not to hear the crying help and the pounding. But of course, no one stepped out to unlock the door, not even me. We all turned a blind eye to this kind of things because no one wanted to be in the bully’s bad book. In the end, they finally let him out just before the next class started, and everyone just got back to their seat like nothing had happened, except me. During the following class, one thing kept hovering in my mind that it could’ve so easily been me who got locked into that closet, and who suffered from all those tormenting. Like I said, I was an easy target. What if they got bored with the short boy and had their eyes on me? This thought sent a shiver down my spine. What followed suit was a wave of guilt, slowly creeping up to my throat. The fact that I just stood idly by while the kid got hell was eating me up inside. I asked myself why I didn’t step up and help even when I knew that it’s the right thing to do? But there was no answer. You may think this is the turning point of an upright young man’s life where he starts to speak up against the bully, but that’s not my life. I kept to my quiet self for the rest of the time, and moved on. When I was older, I realized that most of my memories on those three years in junior high are blurry and cloudy. Maybe it’s just time, but I think part of the reason is that I actively tried to bury those days behind me as if I wanted to deny all the bullying that happened before my eyes, and the coward that I was.
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“A&P” by John Updike
Written by Serene
It was a hot summer day, and it was the day I met him. The atmosphere was lively early in the morning, and people were energetic, since it was the day of sports competition of our school. Though I didn’t participate in any competition, I signed up for the volunteer service, helping my P.E. teacher to check competitors’ qualifications. Sitting at the station, and facing the sports field, I started to staring at people who were stretching themselves, and talking to each other. Suddenly, a tall and sturdy figure had caught my eyes. As soon as his eyes met mine, I put my head aside rapidly, but I still could tell that his facial attractiveness was beyond description. From the time I noticed the presence of him, I just couldn’t move my eyes from him. Every time he came to me to make sure his participance of races, aside from my covert delight, I was too nervous to let out a word, but I still saw clearly and remembered his name secretly. In the next day, also the last day, when I was checking for the last race of the sport competition, he came to me for the last time, and said “I guess I don’t have to show you my identification card again, do I ? ” I blushed instantly, for it turned out that he found my mind, and he also recognized me. I was as happy as a clam and replied “yes.” Several days after, I hadn’t met him even for once. Just as I was almost giving up thinking of him, he just bumped into me again. When we were passing by each other, he had his eyes on me. I met his sight straightly, wondering whether he could recognize me or not. Surprisingly, he smiled shyly and waved to me. At that moment, 34
I felt like an electric current went through my body, I stood still, watching him riding his bike away, “Hey!” said my friend beside me. “What are you doing? Are you going to stand here and watch him walk away all day?” I turned my head to her with confusion “What are you waiting for? Go and get him!” She smiled naughtily and pushed me ahead. I ran faster and faster, without managing what I was going to say after I caught up with him, without thinking what if he had a girlfriend, or why I was chasing him so irrationally. However, I did. And then, he stopped unexpectedly, which made me panic. I had my mind blank when he looked at me with an expression of “Are you going to say something to me?” on his face. I froze and felt extremely nervous, cursing myself for catching up with him. I refused all the ridiculous excuses that came up in my brain, so I got nothing to say. “Nothing.” blurted out. As soon as the word came out of my mouth, I wanted to strangle myself desperately. “Alright,” he said, and turned his back to go into the stadium. And my fantasy had also gone within him.
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“All Summer In A Day” by Ray Bradbury
Written by Serene
Since the ancient times, the problem of bullying has always existed. In a society, the majority will often suppress the minority. People will often reject to those who disagree with themselves, and the condition can even be worse and finally lead to bullying. Once we live, there must be several situations similar to bullying (or it is the bully) that happens around us, whether we are the bystander or the victim or the perpetrator. I had once been crowed out from my group of friends, just because one of them thought that I got too close to the boy she liked. She started to say bad things about me to other girls in the class, making all the girls hate me. At the same time everyone was afraid to talk to me because they didn’t want to be the next target. I was helpless at that time, suffering from loneliness and depression. Homeroom teacher didn’t help me because she thought that it was how children got along with each other. On the other hand, I did’t want to make my parents worry, so I didn’t tell them at the beginning of the incident. As the time went by, their behavior became worse and worse. They started to share the exchange diary which was full of bad rumors about me; they started to ignore my existence in class and avoid me deliberately when grouping. Various actions had hurt my feelings again and again, until the day I couldn’t endure any more. I broke down when I came back home. My parents were puzzled by my collapse, while calming me down and trying to figure out the reason. As soon as I went through the emotion, I told them everything. After my statement, instead of blaming me for not telling 36
them the whole thing earlier, they hug me carefully and sympathetically, and said sorry to me for didn’t protect me well. From that moment, feeling the warmth and love that my parents gave me, I found that things that happened in school did’t matter that much. I got the best parents in the world, and they gave me the best family ever. I found that I did’t need to care about the people who hurt me that much, for it was such a waste of time. At that time, my father told me something that I would never forget. “Never change yourself for those who are not important to you. Be who you are, and you have to be the sun that everyone chases.” keeping his words in mind, I came back to school. I tried to observe my classmates, and found out their preferences; I took this opportunity to make up a relationship with them to let them know that I was not that rude and mean as they had been told. With my sincerity, more and more classmates began to be friendly with me, and some of them even had apologized to me. Through this incident, I could better identify who is a true friend and who’s not. I also knew better how to take a hint from people.
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Part 3
Creative Writings
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“A Rose For Emily� by William Faulkner
Written by Ann
After my dear daddy leaves that night, Roses in my garden withered under the moonlight, For decades waiting for my knight, Ending up murdering Homer for permanent accompany am I right?
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“Marionettes, Inc� by Ray Bradbury
Written by Ann
Marionettes is not a robot, but A real man. Ready to substitute for the poor Braling, Innocent Braling is unaware, Offering Smith his smart idea, Nodding with ecstasy and guilt, Eager to buy one so rushed back home, Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick, Terrified at his robot wife, Ending up with a heavy sigh, Sigh, Sigh, Sigh, Inside the toolbox Braling also sighs, Neither Braling two nor his wife will help him out, Crying out loud but no one hears.
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“Cat In The Rain” by Ernest Hemingway
Written by Jimmy
Came from America and lived in the hotel. American wife found the cat which was outside. The cat crouched under one of the dripping green tables. “I want to get that kitty,” said by the wife. Now it was raining, though the wife went out to get the cat. The cat was already gone. Hopeless wife went back to the hotel. Eyes looking at herself in front of the mirror. Reading one book after another, George always looked at the book “Anyway, I want a cat,” she said, “I want a cat. I want a cat now.” In the end, the maid held a big tortoiseshell cat sent by the Padrone Nothing like the kitty the dripping green table.
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“Araby” by James Joyce
Written by Jimmy
All things have happened in a small street called Richmond street. Ready for the love, he takes the train to the bazaar called “Araby.” Although he successfully arrives in Araby, he finds that he is so poor. Buy nothing at the stall, he notices that he is wasting time. Young man is confused by vanity and love.
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“A&P” by John Updike
Written by Joe
I know what I look like right now. I can sense the pickling feeling from my exposed skin against the cold air. I can feel the piercing gaze shot from other customers. I can see the disapproving faces and shocking wide eyes. I can imagine what kind of judgement they are passing on me. I know. I probably look ridiculous in this supermarket. But my mind and my eyes choose to only focus on her. The worn-down beige bathing suit shows every part of her gorgeous body. She radiates confidence with every move she makes, not a care in the world. She’s Natalie, “the Queen”. She’s the person I want to be so badly, more than anything else in the world. She’s the reason why I’m out of place in this A&P in nothing but a two-piece bathing suit. I used to be THAT fat girl in middle school. People referred to me as the fat one, or the chunky one. I can always see what I looked like in other people’s eyes, and I knew perfectly well about my short and large figure. But it hurts so much when I’m being reduced to an awful label people only see at first glance. And it hurts even more when you can’t help but care about their petty comments. Going into high school, I decided to change that. I was tired of being the person people saw me as; I wanted to be a new version of me, who no one could take pity on or simply ignore. That’s why I lost 20 pounds over the summer before school (still overweight), and why I started following Natalie around. Almost everyone in our school knows who “the Queen” is. She may not be the most beautiful girl, nor the smartest or most popular one, but she’s the one you’d see at first glance over all other 43
students. The fierce she exudes, the devil-may-care attitude, and a pretty face make her “the Queen”. She can catch your eye and make it hard to look away. That’s who I want to be. I willingly became the foil to the rose that she is because I hoped by following her, some of her confidence would rub off on me. Or maybe I’d be seen as part of something strong and powerful, no longer just a fat girl. Today, Natalie asked me and the other non-threatening girl to go to the beach along with her family, which somehow led us to this A&P, where we’ve been sent to get a snack in our bathing suits. The moment I stepped out of the car, the dread reared its ugly head. The thought of people judging my look conjured up those unpleasant memories. I looked at both of them walking straight across the street, like nothing was even a little bit odd. I was afraid and hesitant with the terror of displaying my not even half-covered body for all to see. But this is my chance to be the person I’ve longed to be. A queen, just like Natalie. So I hurried up. Now, we are like a pack of wolves, strolling among humans with an unyielding attitude, only that mine is feigned. Walking barefoot down the narrow aisles, I keep meeting people’s brief glance toward us. I know for a fact that after they avert their gaze, some of them are muttering disapproving words. But some, like the young cashier, are blushing hard and keep stealing glances back at us. I guess they could be looking at the other two girls, but I can’t help feeling the confidence swelling up. It feels weirdly good for someone to look at your way like that. In that moment, I get a little braver. The terror subsides as I watch ahead at our majestic Queen, so sure of herself in this seemingly bizarre scenario. Her infectious pride makes me forget about my own worries. Every step I take 44
becomes more and more certain. I hold my head just a little bit higher. Everything is fine, I think of how I’m going to walk out the store unscathed and a different person, until it all goes south. Just when the cashier is about to ring up the snack, a middle-aged, bald man shows up. He, unlike anyone else, blatantly looks us up and down, with obvious disgust across his face. Then he starts to talk. With every statement he makes, the humiliation slaps me right in the face. The faux bravery before was merely shamelessness. The façade of confidence shatters into pieces cutting into my skins. I feel my face heats up, but it’s nothing compared to Natalie’s. With every passing second, her cheeks are coated with a darker shade of red. I can’t believe it. Her fiery confidence disappears without a trace. Her voice trembles trying to whisper a reply. Not a queen anymore, everyone can see. She is but an indecent, rude, and crazy girl who embarrasses herself in a supermarket, …and so am I. We rush out the sliding door with our heads down. I hold my tears until I get into the car. The moment the car door slams shut, they drip down on my lap. When we get back to the beach, I leave the car and walk toward the opposite direction of the sea.
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“No Speak English” by Sandra Cisneros
Written by Joe
My mother was a beautiful woman. Maybe that’s not what most people would remember her as. But that’s the image of her I want to keep in my mind, the figure I’ve seen with my own eyes, when I still had to look up at her and when we first came to this country. I don’t remember everything from the early years when we stayed at that small apartment on the 3rd floor, but the image of a younger version of her is still clear as day. She used to have the vivid pink from head to toe literally; fabulous hat, big dress, and tiny flat shoes all in different shades of pink. She was a flower bursting with color. Her opening arms brought me closer to her huge body, and I could feel the warmth radiating from her big heart. Red cherry lips mumbled Spanish softly to my ears, "I love you so much, so don’t you ever change." She said that to me a lot back in the days when she still always dressed up, even though she never stepped outside the apartment. However, no matter how gorgeous you made yourself look, it never changes the way you feel inside your heart. We lived in that small apartment for eight years, during that time, I don’t think my mother was ever genuinely happy. My father had to work all day, he was gone when I woke up, and returned when I was already asleep. So most of the time, it’s just me and my mother together in that tiny pink room. We had some good times and more bad times. When she sat with me, telling stories or singing songs in Spanish; or when I came back from school, and she brought out my favorite dish, quesadillas. Those were the good days. But no matter how nice the good times were, it can never erase my memory on those darker days. That time I brought a friend home, and she locked 46
herself in their bedroom because she didn’t know how to talk to him in English. Or those awful times when she stayed beside the window for hours, staring into nothingness with the dead look resembling an icy corpse. The worst was when she looked at me, not saying anything. But I can see it all in her eyes. The usual warmth vanished without a trace, and in its place was pure hatred piercing through me like a dagger. I didn’t understand it until I was much older, when I realized what it means to be a second-generation American. My parents always told me that they moved to the States for me, so I could have a better life and a bright future. I was the reason why she had to leave her beloved hometown. It’s me who stood between her and the happiness she once had. For that, I think a part of her had always resented me. Eight years later, maybe it’s my father who can’t take it anymore or my mother who finally put her foot down, we moved to a Latino neighborhood. Things didn’t all magically get better once we’re there; she’s still depressed sometimes. But there’s a smile on her face I had never seen before when she made a group of new friends in the building. Of course, they always talked in Spanish. Do you know that I’ve never talked to her in English? Now I’ll never have the chance to. I wish I had somehow brought her out of the tiny circle she drew herself, and into this wonderful world she traded the old one for. But now, she’ll always be that beautiful mamacita who gave up her world for her baby boy, and for that, I am sorry and forever grateful.
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“Storyteller” by H.M.Munro
Written by Serene
Such as every father and mother, The aunt is trying to tell some good creative stories, Ordered by her little king and queens, Replaying all the same old tricks, Yelling and feeling annoyed to show their protest, The aunt’s storytelling doesn’t seem to be a success, Every kid is complaining about her, Letting the sigh out of the bachelor’s mouth, Let me show you what a good story is supposed to be, Extraordinary the storyteller is, Respected by kids and as well as the woman.
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“The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson
Written by Serene
The morning of June 27th is clear and sunny, Here we go to hold the lottery, Everybody is waiting anxiously, Letting someone be sacrificed gloriously, Open the paper of destiny, The rare dot goes to Mr. Hutchinson! Then here comes the opposition of Mrs. Hutchinson, Entreat for another chance, Redraw the lottery, Yet she shouldn’t have the objection.
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“ Ann, Ji mmy, Joe, andSer enear ebr ave becauset heycr eat er at hert hanf ol l ow. ”