Peer 2021

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Literary Works Global Studies and World Languages Academy World Literature and Composition Class Tallwood High School June 2021

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Opener I write this with a week away from the end of another historical year in education, and one that despite its abnormalities, we’ve made every effort to make normal. Peer 2021 is an attempt to do just that. This edition marks the first time I’ve never actually met my students, unless you would call zoom meetings “meeting”. It also marks the first time in which classes were semesterised with our 4 x 4 scheduling, meaning we’ve finished a set of classes at the end of January, said our goodbyes, then met our next batch of students in February.

This year’s Peer, the fourth I’ve compiled since its inception in 2016, represents student work from the annual “12 pieces” assignment. For the past nine years, I’ve requested that students provide 12 publishable pieces with various criteria: 2 analytical pieces, 2 reviews, 2 reflections, 2 reactions, 2 synthesises, and 2 creative writings. Among other things, the pieces were to follow certain writing conventions, conventions, I’m sure, students will note I am breaking even as I write this introduction. Most importantly, these “rules and violations” are set out to improve students ability to revise their prior submissions. In the end, just like so many other years, students were to pick their best piece to present to their classmates.

This ritual finale of class is among my favourite things I’ve done in my career, mostly because of the tears. Yes, tears. But not the tears of struggle to get the rules right (although, I’m told, there may have been a few of those as well), but rather, tears of genuine, heartfelt writing. Who could forget when students opened up publicly about losing a grandparent? About body image problems still being struggled with? About how a friendship saved their lives? About how they had to put on a happy face amidst a bitter divorce? About how nature’s soft reminders give the deepest philosophical answers to life’s issues? To the exploration of form, and topic, and style?

Despite being the last day of class, in many ways, these are the days I got to know my students best. This, more than anything else, is why Peer 2021 will be an endearing edition for me personally. Alongside this issue, many of the contributors took up the mantle, and helped create this year of pandemic’s literary magazine, complete with four seasons of submissions. These can be found at: https://tallwood-lit-mag.weebly.com/ The prior year’s lit mag (with many members of my lit classes involved) was here: https://ths-litx.weebly.com/ Prior Peer Issues can be found here: https://issuu.com/demottissuu/docs/peer_2016 https://issuu.com/demottissuu/docs/peer_2019 https://issuu.com/home/published/peer_2020__7_ I hope you enjoy this year’s offering. I certainly did.

Earl C. De Mott June 13, 2021 P E E R2 0 2 1

Table of Contents Contributors (Class of 2024) The Analytics The Reviews The Reflections The Reactions The Synthetic The Creative Images: Earl C. De Mott

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The Analytics

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Ancient Journey Every story contains some type of great meaningful journey inside it. Different journeys that characters go through in those stories build experiences that include inner journeys, spiritual journeys, and physical journeys. Inner journey means when that specific character comes and goes all the way to the end of the story. A spiritual journey means when a humans’ belief changes at the end of a story. Physical journeys mean that obstacles the character in the story has to go through to accomplish his/her goal. During ancient times, A man named Noah went through a spiritual and physical journey. Noah went through spiritual obstacles, long journeys, has impacted mankind, and taught a lesson in the process.

Noah, a descendant from the first male sinner named Adam, characterized as blameless and well respected by God. This child of God had three sons named Shem, Ham, and Japheth. The Lord, sickened and disgusted with the inhabitants of the Earth because of all the sinning, decided to flood the Earth and kill every organism created, and to start over from scratch. God instructed Noah to build an ark and gave Noah instructions or a blueprint for correct completion. He told Noah to bring Shem, Ham, and Japheth along with their mother onto the ark with every male and female animal of each species to repopulate the Earth after the flood. This started a new beginning for mankind.

Noah's spiritual journey started along with his physical journey when God told Noah about the ark 120 years in advance. He trusted God, ministered to the inhabitants trying to warn them, then built the ark while gathering family then animals. Building the ark took Noah between 55 to 75 years. When God´s flood began, Noah's journey lasted 150 days on the water. Noah returned 150 days later off of the ark. He then rested, planted a vineyard with his three sons, then enjoyed the new world.

In the modern day story, the Scarlet Ibis describes a five year old boy named William Armstrong, also called Doodle, who can’t walk on his own. Doodles’ parents stopped trying to teach him how to walk because he physically couldn’t. His brother didn’t stop trying even when they both wanted to. Doodle trusted his brother blindly. Eventually, Doodle learned how to walk, but not perfectly. He would still stumble, but get up again.

The family went outside on a rainy day, but it began raining harder. Doodle and his brother separated during the storm. When his brother tried finding Doodle, he ran through the storm looking until he found him dead behind a bush.

In comparison between Noahs’ Ark and The Scarlet Ibis, they have similarities. Noah trusted God with blind trust; while in The Scarlet Ibis, Doodle also trusted his brother with blind trust. Noah didn't know if God gave him trusted information, and God trusted

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in Noah to build his ark and complete his task. Doodle didn’t know whether to trust his brother or not when he wanted to teach him how to walk. Since Noah trusted in God, his family and animals survived the flood, and since Doodle trusted his brother, Doodle learned how to walk better than he could.

If God and Noah didn’t trust in each other, history would have ended up differently in many ways, and if Doodle didn’t trust in his brother, he wouldn’t have learned to walk on his own. In conclusion, in the ancient times story, Noahs’ Ark, Noah went through a physical and spiritual journey by trusting his spirit and listening to Gods’ word thus building the ark and surviving for 150 days. Within the modern day story, The Scarlet Ibis, Doodle went through an inner and physical journey. Doodle became motivated by his brother to walk when he physically couldn't. Each journey has an overcoming ending. After every journey, an obstacle ends up accomplished. This proves that every type of journey presents itself in all stories and even in life.

Julian Cooper --------------Inner Characteristics in Stories “Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody” (Twain).

Each individual has faults and flaws, like implied in the quote. Influenced by factors, humans take part in acts far from pure or splendid. Despite that, it all seems normal from a young age because those behaviors appear universally. Stories capture the dark side of human nature, such as showing how all innate behaviors of characters consist of greed, pride, jealousy, and selfishness.

Humans have a long history of misfortune occurring because of greed. Greed brings those who have it through calamity. “The ferocious Humbaba hears the crashing and falls upon the king. Finally, the killing blow is dealt. Upon their return to Uruk, Enkidu falls ill” (The Epic of Gilgamesh Video). The greed of both Gilgamesh and Enkidu affected one of their fates. Enkidu falls ill and soon dies because of the actions both took during their journey. “He learns of an ancient being. The only man to gain immortality. And once again he sets out from Uruk... When Gilgamesh awakes, he sees the snake reborn and knows his hope is lost” (The Epic of Gilgamesh Video).

Gilgamesh’s greed motivates him to go through the obstacles ahead to reach eternal life; however, it also gives him the misfortune of not receiving his goal. No matter the motive, greed will either kill or take, just like it did to Gilgamesh and Enkidu.

The nature of humans consists of feeling proud; however, like most, too much of that pride will drive one to hurt themselves or others. “They didn't know that I did it just for

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myself, that Doodle walked only because I was ashamed of having a crippled brother” (Hurst). The brother, driven by pride, taught Doodle how to walk. His uncontrollable pride will result in a tragedy, too unexpected for the bother to see. “When we reached Horsehead Landing, lightning was flashing across half the sky, and thunder was drowning out the sound of the sea... He had been bleeding from the mouth, and his neck and the front of his shirt were stained a brilliant red” (Hurst). The sense of pride the brother possesses eventually hurts his innocent brother, Doodle. Pride produces astounding achievements, but too much pride will result in an unchangeable, unexpected situation.

Lacking an item or trait often produces jealousy. Faster than attaining that jealous feeling, downfall will come and will bite as hard as it can. “No; there’s nothing more humiliating than to look poor among other women who are rich” (Maupassant). Madame Loisel, who prides her worth, despises the feeling of poorness. Obsessed with that belief, Madame Loisel’s selfish actions led both her and her husband to destruction. “He did borrow, asking a thousand francs of one, five hundred of another, five louis here, three louis there... And this life lasted ten years” (Maupassant). Madame and Monsieur Loisel worked for ten years to pay for the lost necklace.

Both brought out all their investments and inheritance just for a necklace that Madame Loisel soon learned held a value of “at most five hundred francs” (Maupassant). Just like that, the yearning for an extravagant life turned into years of difficulty. Jealousy, a feeling not worth the outcome of consequences provided.

Selfishness, a trait that questions loyalty. Almost all humans have participated in selfish acts, little or big. “Mrs. Delacroix selected a stone so large she had to pick it up with both hands and turned to Mrs.Dunbar” (Jackson). Mrs. Delacroix would rather hurt Tessie than protect her, which could lead to Mrs. Delacroix getting hurt as well. “The children had stones already. And someone gave little Davy Hutchinson a few pebbles” (Jackson). Selfishness sees no relationship and will target those closest. even affects the family closets to the heart. The mother of all toxic traits, selfishness, exempts no person and often produces doubt.

Greed, pride, jealousy, and selfish behaviors appear during minority and throughout adulthood. Stories express the idea that “human nature holds a dark side." All the characters mentioned before exemplified each trait and the consequences that come with it. Gilgamesh paid for his greediness by entering a long journey, only to come out defeated and exhausted.

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The brother in Scarlet Ibis lost his only sibling, Doodle, due to his overbearing pride.

Madame Loisel brought her husband into a decade of despair due to her jealousy.

Lastly, the friends and family of Tessie Hutchinson ignored the event about to happen to protect themselves from death. In conclusion, society as a whole will inevitably take part in greedy, prideful, jealous, and selfish acts despite knowing the corruption that comes with it.

Michelle A. San Agustin --------------Legends Throughout the centuries, folk stories and legends have slowly begun to develop in their own ways. Each culture has its perspectives on different subjects, considering that their religions all contrast from one another. We can use the celebration of Christmas as an example. Many religious people say that the holiday is about celebrating the birth of Christ, while others adjust the ideal of it for children’s entertainment, stating that it’s about Santa delivering gifts to families, and making snowmen outside in the cold.

However, in European countries, many folktales/myths are told about the holiday to various people to teach people lessons, particularly morals. In Germany, civilians celebrate Krampus, which is a mythological demonic creature that punishes misbehaved children during Christmas. (He’s the polar opposite of Santa.)

Although many Christian churches wanted to ban the celebration due to its severe storytelling, many countries in Europe continue to tell it to teach children to listen to their parents, and not to Misbehave.

Nevertheless, there are still myths out there that teach more than just morals.

Numerous foreign countries tell about they believe the gods and empresses constructed the earth. One Sumerian poem titled “The Debate between Grain and Sheep” states that before the earth was in its full form, people were naked. There were no sheep or grains, and the earth was seen as infertile.

The Sumerians also believed that before having many resources for food the human race survived on grass for nutrients, and drank water from ditches. Regardless of this, it was said that the gods later created sheep and grain to provide better resources for the human race to survive off of.

We can also use the modern piece “The Most Dangerous Game”. This story represents the divergence of opinions between hunting and murdering other individuals. Rainsford, a hunter, happens to be stranded on an island with a mysterious man by the name of

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Zaroff. Zaroff lets Rainsford be involved in his little “game”, which is basically hunting humans for enjoyment.

Rainsford, not allowed to have an opinion on the matter, tries to look for an escape route from the island, while in the meantime hiding from Zaroff as the man tries to murder him.

Jessica Militante --------------Author’s Bias In order to be human, one needs bias. Writings from ancient times to modern times, always explore this concept. Whether one reads from the Sumerian text of Epic of Gilgamesh, or reads Liam O’ Flaherty’s The Sniper, personal bias becomes an influential teacher to readers across the years. Authors, through personal experience, use bias as a teaching tool for future generations of readers to create a universal Theme.

Authors use universal themes, ideas that apply to all readers regardless of cultural differences, or geographic location, and connect ideas across all disciplines. To do this, authors use their experiences and make a personal bias generalization about life.

Without the author’s personal bias, universal themes would not exist. Authors, through personal experience, use bias as a teaching tool for future generations of readers to create a universal theme.

Every story, including Gilgamesh, has a universal theme. In Gilgamesh, the author used their experience of selfishness and created a universal theme.The story of Gilgamesh reveals the inevitability of death. It represents an inescapable fact of human life. In Gilgamesh, the reader can find the theme by thinking about the end. When Gilgamesh tried to gain immortality, he failed both times. He eventually died. The author used their personal experiences of death and made it the universal theme.

Universal themes allow the reader to emotionally connect to the story. If the readers do not have the ability to emotionally connect to the story, then they would understand the concept of the story. Authors use what they want the reader to understand and make a universal theme based on that.

In conclusion, authors use personal bias in order to create universal themes. Universal themes populate all stories from Gilgamesh to Winnie the Pooh. Authors use what they want the reader to understand and make a universal theme based on that. Bias

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connects readers to stories.

Paige Whitfield

--------------Poland’s History The Polish Country has a rich history. My mother’s side of the family originates in Poland, and I have heard stories about my heritage and about the history of Poland.

For this reason I have decided to write this piece for others to have the ability to enjoy the history of the country of my Polish ancestors. This piece intends to show that Poland has a history that rises and falls with time, and also to provide an explanation on how Poland has become what it is today.

In the year 966, Duke Mieszko I, who ruled several Western Slavic tribes, decided to consolidate his power by getting baptized in the Latin Rite and marrying Dubrovka, a princess of Bohemia. His son, Bolesław the Great, formerly reconstructed the state into a medieval kingdom due to his military expansion into neighboring kingdoms. One of the the most important events in all of medieval Poland’s history occurred when the armies of the Kingdom of Poland and the Grand Duchy of Lithuania combined together, creating the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth in 1569. In the year 1683, the Ottoman Empire laid siege to the city of Vienna for the second time. The first attempt in 1529 ended largely in a failure, while the second attempt in 1683 began to look like a success for the Ottomans. King John Sobieski III of Poland rallied an alliance of German and Polish forces, 80,000 strong, to come to the aid of the Holy Roman Empire. They drove the Ottomans out of Vienna in 15 hours, and the battle marked the end of Ottoman expansion in Europe.

The Polish Lithuanian Commonwealth became one of the largest and most populous states in Europe throughout the Age of Enlightenment and into the early 19th century.

Polish Military forces also contributed to the Continental Army in the American Revolution with some of their best military officers. Colonel Tadeusz Kościuszko, an accomplished military architect, designed and oversaw many state-of-the-art military fortifications, including the ones at West Point and New York. In recognition of his service, the Continental Congress awarded him with the rank of Brigadier General in 1783.

Cashmir Pułaski became an American hero during the Revolutionary War. He distinguished himself at the Battle of Brandywine, where he saved General Washington’s Army by leading a makeshift cavalry charge toward a British flank. For his

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bravery, the Continental Congress awarded him with the rank of Brigadier General in the cavalry.

Brigadier General Pułaski held command of the US Cavalry during the Revolutionary War, where he drastically changed the command from a patrol unit to a fighting unit. He provided crucial support at the Siege of Savannah, where he led French and American cavalry forces into battle, and also where grapeshot mortally wounded him. He later succumbed to his injuries.

Near the end of the 18th century, Poland effectively became non-existent on the map by a joint invasion of Prussian, Russian, and Austro-Hungarian forces. After the First World War, Poland re-established itself as the Second Polish Republic with its borders dramatically reduced.

After the Russian Revolution, the new communist government decided to expand westward. The Polish-Russian war began in 1919, and the Polish army forces easily crushed the under-fed and under-trained Soviet forces at the Battle of Warsaw. At the begininng of the Second World War in 1939, Poland became divided once again, with invasions by Nazi Germany in the west and by Soviet Russia in the east. After the war ended in 1945, Poland re-established itself as a part of the Eastern Bloc. In the year 1991, Poland gained freedom from communism and became the Third Polish Republic.

Poland has had a rocky history. Wars upon wars has created a community of people that will not give up freedom. Having the ability to interact and become a part of the culture is a privilege, and I feel very proud of my history and association with the Country of Poland.

Konrad Landess

--------------What Do Your Parents Not Understand About You? (Excerpts) When I think about what my parents don't really understand about me, the first thing that comes to mind: mental health. I chose to talk about mental health because I believe despite people saying they understand what mental health really is, in reality they really don't.

I myself struggle with mental health problems and I feel like when my mental health got worse and worse my parents understood less and less. When it came down to my mental health, I tried my best to keep it to myself to prevent it from affecting people

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around me. My parents would ask me “ why do you stay in your room all the time?’ or “ why have you isolated yourself?”

I believe that they don't seem to understand that when your mental health goes down, so does your motivation. I found that during times where I would have really low episodes that got so bad, I couldn't make myself move in a way I wasn't able to control...

I have met many people who have gone through their own type of mental struggles and for them all, they all have realized that when it came down to it their parents would rather get upset with them like harming themselves or digging their own hole. But, the reality is that it's way deeper than that when you actually take time to look at it from the other person's point of view. You see, people may think basic things like therapy can instantly fix whatever makes them upset, however that's like telling a person who broke a leg to just put a bandaid on it.

Whenever I try to talk about my mental health, the conversation either goes one of two ways. Sometimes I hear “well did you know that this happened to me” or “you're faking it”. Please, for the love of God, never ever say those phrases to a person who is struggling.

One you should never compare who had it worse because many things can stay hidden as long as you want them to stay hidden; two you should never tell what they're feeling “isn't real.” ...

Kayden Riefer

--------------How To Love There is no way to love someone the correct way Many people do things differently No one truly knows Loving someone also involves loving yourself You have to be able to help each other And show one another how to become better versions of yourself Knowing how to be selfish enough To care about how you feel

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But not so selfish to where You can become so self involved That you don’t even think about your partner Kyleigh Linden

--------------How To Walk Background: (walking happens when you move your two legs to move one place to another) 1. You straighten your legs in front of you. ps. Your legs consist of the long body part on your lower body 2. Then you bend them to the point where you can push yourself up 3. Then you straighten back up.

4. You push one of your legs forward.

5. Then use the other one to guide it forward.

Do this repeatedly Ps: make sure you push your leg like 12 inches/ 1 foot.

Zoey Gunkel

--------------How to Open a Door The things needed to complete this are a door, or a movable piece of wood that connects to the wall, and a handle for the door also known as a doorknob.

First, look at the handle and make sure the door is unlocked.

Next, take a hand and place it on the doorknob.

Then, twist the handle to one side and push open, if pushing doesn’t work try pulling the door.

The final step is to walk* through the newly opened door. *Consult Zoey Gunkel’s writing on how to walk for more details.

Lian Johnston

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Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich How To Today you will learn how to make a peanut butter and jelly and jelly sandwich.

Get bread, peanut butter, and jelly.

Next you need to get two spoons or knives, your choice.

You are going to need a plate to put your bread on.

So once you have all of your ingredients, grab your bread and lay your bread side by side.

Next, you're going to grab your peanut butter and grab a butter knife and put some peanut butter on the butter knife.

Next you're going to spread the peanut butter on one piece of bread.

Finally you are going to do the same thing with the jelly just with the other piece of bread that doesn't have anything on it.

The last thing you will do is to put your two pieces of bread together with the sides with peanut butter and jelly on them facing each other.

LaPatrick Bridges

--------------Curry

I arrived at your door with a smile plastered on my face You looked excited, hurriedly inviting me Into a kind world where words were exchanged without insincerity However, inward hunger seemed a larger priority than our original plan

Ingredients were brought out from a bulging bag

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and we rapidly got to work Gently slicing and dicing Anything that we saw fit Bell pepper, tomato, garlic, onion, carrots, they all toppled into containers

The aroma of garlic and onions filled the air, then we began the adventure A packet toppled into the pot, along with anything in sight Seasonings were combined and thrown in with uncertainty, shaking containers of spices, It seemed alright

But it became too thick and our greatest enemy appeared, a mere grain, in another pot We stupidly did not read the rules laid out for us and made harsh assumptions One can only guess and hope for the best, but it didn’t seem like things would work out at the time

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We hungered for a solution, which found us We gained insight and toppled in a substance and more seasoning into the pot of overwhelming vegetables And let time battle with the rice

Before we knew it, everything became exactly as it should Perfection

Bowls were acquired, Then filled with the Fruits of our labor and love

Delicious

Gabby Allenberg

--------------Twice Baked Potato Instructions (Recipe not included) You can Not go Wrong With this recipe.

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I have used another Twice Baked Potato Recipe For a few years now…

And this one’s really just as good…

The only Direction That I have: To follow the recipe Exactly.

Zahara Barker

--------------How To Write a Successful Song Writing a song, sometimes easy, But only if you make it cheesy, Mainly you need to deep within, To the parts that make you uneasy, Then the words will come out breezy, Then you need to get some music, Trust me, it’ll feel therapeutic, Now you need to sing your acoustic, Record it, name it, they’ll eat it like a chew stick, Now you finally got there, Trust me, you’re now a capitalist millionaire!

Stepan Wright

--------------How To Read a Paper Book Many different varieties of books exist in the world. Some examples include ebooks and audio books. This how to, however, will focus on paper books, specifically novels. A novel typically consists of the cover, material, an author’s note, and a summary. For this example, John Grisham’s “The Innocent Man” will become referenced as the guide.

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The outside of the book contains the name, a blurb or summary and the author. It may contain more but these typically have a place on the cover. On this book, specifically a 2006 hardcover print, the title, the author’s name, a short description of the story, and a picture of the author have places on the cover. The first few pages contain printing and publishing information as well as the book’s dedication.

After that comes the actual story. In order to understand the literature you must have a basic knowledge of the english language as well as an understanding of the written form. Start by finding a page labeled chapter one, often the first chapter does not start on the first page.

Continue onwards by interpreting the text and turning the pages. If you must leave the book unfinished at the moment, use a bookmark.

Abby Donnelly

--------------Letter to Rising GSWLA Freshmen Dear Rising Freshmen, Salutations! Fellow student in Mr.DeMotts class. WELCOME to the most interesting class you’ll ever experience. however.In high school, two words, not easy. Which explains why I’m here to help you. There’s only a few key things to help you with this class, and a few pointers to help you have a good mind set.

1. Stay on top of your work. Staying on top of your work will ease off the stress.

However sometimes when you procrastinate it can bring in more pressure… but Mr.DeMott, your teacher; Says that “Procrastination is actually a sign of intelligence”,so don’t down yourself if you procrastinate.

2. Try to participate in class. It gives you extra points. But not only extra points, but it helps show others what and how you view things or what you’ll do in certain situations.

There’s going to be a lot of interesting projects in this class, so there’s a very high chance you’ll enjoy this… especially if you love to debate.

3. UNLEASH YOUR CREATIVITY into your work! It helps show your perspective or views in life or whatever you pour in your amazing pieces.

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4. Writing ain’t your passion? That’s okay but look at it like an interview when you're asked questions and whenever asked to write something personal.

5. Perfectionist? Good thing but it can have some cons too. Don’t go overboard when asked a simple thing. Mainly saying you don’t always have to go OVER and BEYOND others expectations. If the person’s expectations not necessarily fulfilled, it doesn’t matter, as long as you're happy with your work!(but i'm also not saying not to do your everlasting best, I greatly encourage going over and beyond many expectations but not if your stressed out ) 6. Enjoy yourself. Writing equals fun until you don’t make it fun… But for sure, I know that as long as you can do whatever you want to do with the writing. But also try to have fun with it even if the topic can be not that fun nor interesting.

That's all! I believe that some of these things are definitely going to some-what come in handy.I believe in whoever reads this; God Bless!

Truly, Imani Sumpter

--------------How To Survive Mr. De Mott’s Class Overview How would students describe Mr. DeMott’s class? Mr. DeMott’s might seem totally different from all the other English classes you took. Instead of assigning regular homework assignments, he assigns amazing (Causing astonishment) and exhilarating (Strong feelings of excitement) projects including (but not limited to) Romeo and Juliet (A book he somehow made into a project), Country research , and more. The best part of this class…….. This how-to essay will tell you how to survive and maybe even have the best year you could have while taking Mr. De Mott’s class.

Materials ● A brain (Hopefully you already have one, If you don’t then consider yourself a zombie) ● His syllabus (An outline of a course/explains what you will do in that course) that he posts at the beginning of the year ● A sense of humor (An understanding of jokes and how they work) ● A thesaurus (A book that tells you synonyms and antonyms) ● Fingers or a voice (either one works he just wants you to participate)

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● Time Management skills (the ability to manage your time so you might wanna throw away your phone) ● Coffee ( you will need it) Steps you should take before entering class 1. Before you begin taking this class you might just wanna throw away your phone because you will not have much time for it 2. Make some coffee because you will spend some late nighters to finish up projects he gave you 3. Read those books he assigned you because he will secretly pay attention to the ones who do the work and your grade depends on if you work or not 4. Look at the syllabus. The syllabus will tell you what you will do that day Steps you should take while in his class 1. Participate at least once a week because if you don’t, he might actually call you out 2. Pay attention!!!

3. Talk to the other students, they have very cool stuff to say Steps you should take after his class 1. Do all the homework he assigned you because the next day he will talk about the assigned work 2. When he assigns you an essay, Spread it out through the week. If you do this then you won’t have so much work to do at the end of the essay 3. Make more coffee because you will spend more late nighters Other info to know 1. Sometimes he talks about world events happening in the present 2. He has a dog that barks sometimes so just ignore the dog 3. His wifi acts up sometimes so if students still attend virtual class then he might glitch 4. Start writing random essays now specifically 1 how to essay, 2 reviewing essays, 1 reflecting essay or poem, 1 moment of recognition essay or poem, 1 fanfic , 1 genre change (basically just take any story and change the genre), and at least 1 to 2 poems.)

Conclusion I hope this How-To has helped you learn how not to feel overwhelmed in his class.

Thank you for reading.

Works Cited “Amazing.” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriamwebster.com/dictionary/amazing#:~:text=: causing astonishment, great wonder,,of

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personal bravery and survival.

“Exhilarating.” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriamwebster.com/dictionary/exhilarating.

“Syllabus.” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriamwebster.com/dictionary/syllabus.

Laura Masic

--------------Romeo and Juliet Notebooks Basics: It’s going to be a proscenium stage and we’re going to modernize it but kind of keep the original lines in it. It’s going to be rich family vs. another rich family basically. We’re doing act 5 scene 3 but towards the end when capulet and montague become friends.

Characters and their roles: Romeo: Son of Montague Juliet: Daughter of Capulet Capulet: Capulet Montague: Montague Prince: Sheriff Page: Deputy Stage: Split in half by a fence. One yard in Capulet’s and the other is Montague’s.

The prince will go on one side and the page will go on the other. They’ll be talking from different sides. Half of two houses, one on each side with a fence between them. *prince and page will come through behind the houses to both sides of the fence* Sky background behind the houses.

Props: The backyard: fake trees, bushes, flowers, grass, and fences. (fast forward) Juliet and Romeo’s memorials P E E R2 0 2 1

Page: a report from the department telling them how Romeo and Juliet died Prince: Takes the letter from page Acting: Page and prince come in from the back of the stage. Page goes to Capulet’s side of the fence while prince the other. Page will read out the events on the report then prince will take the report and skim over it himself. Prince yells at Capulet and Montague. Capulet tells Montague they should stop fighting, it's his daughter's wish. Montague says he’ll have his own memorial for her and she’ll always be remembered and loved. Capulet says he’ll make a memorial for Romeo right next to Juliet’s and they were poor sacrifices to their rivalry. Prince says we now have peace and then the scene ends. *fast forward to a few months later* The audience sees the memorial of romeo in Capulet's backyard and the memorial of Juliet in Montagues backyard.

Neveah Anderson

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The Reviews

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Review of Cake Batter the Cat Background: Cake Batter inhabits the Strassberger house as a four and a half year old rescue tabby/tuxedo cat. She has hints of orange, brown, beige, white, and gray in her fur. For her “socks” she has white fur, as well as for her collar (for her tuxedo genes, she looks as if she wears a colorful tuxedo).

Review: The cat, Cake Batter remains a beautiful cat with soft and beautiful fur. She has a kind and caring personality, and knows if family members feel sad, or just need some snuggles. Her little meow steals hearts, however she can become quite vocal in the early hours of the day, especially around four to five am. She remains a very playful cat who loves to spend time with her family, and her brother, Shadow. Cake Batter can get in the way sometimes whilst her family members do school work, and will often walk across computer screens during Zoom calls. Overall, a loving, caring, beautiful cat, Cake Batter can make even the grouchiest smile. She remains useful as a companion, as well as a non-official emotional support animal, and the Strassberger family feels very lucky for her personality. Cake Batter deserves 4.9 Stars (out of 5).

-Julia Strassberger The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Review The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, A Hunger Games novel by Suzanne Collins, makes for quite an intriguing read. Full of unexpected twists and turns, the reader becomes immersed in the perspective of young Corialanus Snow, the primary antagonist in the books that take place further down the timeline.

Through truly exemplary writing, Collins manages to capture the villainous nature of Corialanus Snow perfectly. Collins’s portrayal of Snow gives readers a chance to relate to his character, only to sit and watch as Snow walks a path that becomes gradually more fear-inducing as the novel progresses. The author does not project her own feelings and opinions onto Snow, a very hard feat to achieve when creating a character that will ultimately end up a villain. Snow’s backstory initially makes him a likeable character, but his well-written thoughts and emotions betray him as cold and calculating, always one step ahead of his peers.

The plot of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes does not allow for a single dull moment. Snow faces constant obstacles, sorrows, and even romantic occasions. In the novel, Snow’s mind works at incredibly fast speeds, making calculated but almost impulsive decisions that keep the reader alert and interested. The novel consists of two parts, one that focuses on Snow’s time in the Capitol and another that focuses on his time in the Districts. Collins does a wonderful job at emphasizing the changes in

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circumstance and the lengths of time that these two periods lasted, respectively. The reader understands how Snow’s internal and external conflicts change over this Time.

Finally, we come to Snow’s relationship with Lucy Gray. A girl from the districts, chosen to participate in the Hunger Games under the mentorship of student Corialanus Snow.

Lucy Gray adds immensely to the novel and to Snow’s growth as a character. Collins wrote Lucy Gray well, and pairing her with Snow created a genius relationship that could only ever end in disaster.

Lucy Gray’s whimsical, mysterious personality contrasts greatly with Snow’s cynical, somber one. Snow grew up in the Capitol while Lucy Gray grew up in the Districts, causing an inevitable difference in opinion that could not be overcome.

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes makes for a great read, full of interesting plot twists and content that gives the reader a sense of nostalgia and a desire to reread the original Hunger Games series. Collins’s wonderful writing style portrays President Snow in a much different perspective than that which we had all come to know, giving fans of the Hunger Games series a glimpse into the past of the character that we all know as a terrible villain.

Sadie Herron --------------Odd Girl Out Review The Webtoon “Odd Girl Out” by Morangg deserves 5/5 stars and I really recommend it.

It’s such a great story especially for readers who like to read about friendship and youth.

What makes this story so great is the friendship between the 4 girls who share a great bond even when times get tough between the group but the 4 friends still manage to solve it out.

“Odd Girl Out” or “Girls World” involves the main character Nari who just started high school and changed her look. While heading to school she met an old friend from back in elementary school with a girl named Yuna. As the story proceeds Nari ends up in a friend group but not just any, the other 3 girls turn out as the 3 prettiest girls in the school. Students from Nari’s school always ask Nari to deliver gifts to her friends. Nari felt like the “ugly duckling” in the friend group and felt she didn't belong but instead felt more like a delivery person.

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The story proceeds with new characters entering as we get to see other points of view from them which leads to more plots and more to unfold from the story. I really like the plot as new stories and flashbacks appear to get to know the characters. Not only does the story contain humor but also contains heartbreaking issues and advice. The art turned out really pretty and the author drew the story really well matching the characters to their personalities with lots of funny details along the way.

Overall I’d say give it a try, with lots of details, beautiful art, great plot, and character development to look forward to in the webtoon, with either character to love or hate when reading.

Trisha Nyguyen --------------A Love So Beautiful Review A Love So Beautiful exists as a Chinese television romance drama that based on the Chinese novella called “To Our Pure Little Beauty” (Chinese: 致我们单纯的小美好) written by Zhao Qianqian.

Each episode, around 45-50 minutes long, and it aired on Tencent Video from 9 November until 7 December 2017. Recently, Netflix debuted a Korean Drama version of the Chinese Drama as a wholesome remake. A lot of reviews on this came out positive, and some came out negative. Many critics absolutely loathed the Korean version as it took away the suspense and general idea of the love interest’s personality. The book and the Chinese drama both relate very similarly with the exception of a few scenes, as they described as too “explicit”.

The general plot of the show shows Chen Xiaoxi (Shen Yue) and Jiang Chen (Hu Yitian) as classmates who stay together as neighbors since kindergarten at Chenxi Secondary School. Chen Xiaoxi, a happy clumsy girl who doesn't study much, Chen Xiaoxi constantly expresses her appreciation for Jiang Chen, a well-known student known for his good looks and high grades which made them very incompatible. Jiang Chen comes off as very “vile” and “cruel” denying Chen Xiaoxi of her feelings, but secretly falls in love with her throughout the show. Jiang Chen has a hard time expressing his feelings due to the loss of his father, leaving him with abandonment issues which caused him to think that all leaves him in the end, as his mother also left him on his own during a period of time. However, Chen Xiaoxi follows him all throughout their years together and never abandons him.

The second love interest, Wu Bosong, also takes a liking to Chen Xiaoxi, constantly

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calling her “boss” as a way to respect and care for her. This causes Jiang Chen to become jealous, which at first he didn’t even realize. Despite all of this, Chen Xiaoxi remains clueless of Jiang Chen’s jealousy and Wu Bosong’s love for her. As this appears as the main conflict in the drama, which sums up as the rivalry between the two love interests. However, mini conflicts exist in the show as well, the show consists of real life issues contrasting with growing up, and finding a future for yourself, as Chen Xiaoxi, unable to do at first. It also consists of problems with other relationships in the show, as their friend group struggles with love and friendship.

This C-Drama, (short for Chinese drama), shows many lovable characters and wholesome funny moments that make this show entertaining as a whole. Viewers find it difficult to watch certain shows as watching insanely cringey moments make viewers uncomfortable and not only that, the romance, subtle and sweet, however, A Love So Beautiful had the type of cringe that made it very entertaining and fun. Each episode had viewers anticipating what would happen next, and if Chen Xiaoxi would discover Jiang Chen’s true feelings for her. A Love So Beautiful’s definitely a well deserved popular Chinese drama.

Coming to an end, A Love So Beautiful comes to a 4/5 star rating. All aspects feel perfect about the show, excluding certain aspects like his cruelty to Chen Xiaoxi.

Viewers absolutely loved the way he acted towards her but some wish he would have shown a little sweeter side to her sometimes, but not in the way that the K-Drama version portrayed it. The ending, absolutely so satisfying, and many would definitely recommend this show to viewers who are just starting to watch Asian Dramas.

Faye Copeland --------------“Boys Over Flowers” Review The K-Drama “Boys Over Flowers” swept across the globe as one of the most popular dramas to exist. It has made a large impact on the acting industry as it brought international attention.

Boys Over Flowers has 25 one hour episodes. Because each episode it took so long to finish an episode, watching for so long can feel hard. “Boys Over Flowers”: definitely not a bingeable show at all, because of how much time watching it takes up.

Each character has a role that the actors play very well, and the enemies to lovers dynamic works really well for this story. It may have felt really harsh in the beginning, but the slow burn relationship shows the development.

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Each conflict in the story has never gone too far to the point of unrealistically, which works very well making it more realistic. Once the new character gets introduced, the story still flows naturally. The last few episodes have left a good taste in the mouth, but the very ending still felt so disappointing. After watching a show for 25 hours, to get a disappointing ending really sucks.

Because of this, “Boys Over Flowers” receives a rate of 3 and ½ out of 4 stars.

Corrine Harris --------------BBC’s Sherlock One of the most interesting things about BBC's Sherlock, which aired from 2010 to 2017, is the cinematography. It uses a lot of techniques that aren't commonly seen, especially in a TV series. In fact, if you were to see clips of the show without knowing anything about it, the cinematography would probably lead you to believe it was a movie rather than a TV series. This is partially due to the small number of episodes, and the very spaced out frequency at which they were released, but the majority of it is because of the incredibly unique techniques the filmmakers used.

The most noticeable piece of cinematography is the on-screen text. Typically, when a character in a movie or television show is reading something that's written, the camera either zooms in to the message so we can see it too, or the text is read out loud by a voice off-screen.

Sherlock did something a little different. Text messages are simply written out onto the screen, which makes it a lot simpler, and it also gives the show a very unique feel.

Another example of the on-screen text is when it's used a visual representation of Sherlock's thinking. This technique is really great because it allows the viewer to see his thought process as it happens, without the character having to explain it all.

Another interesting cinematographic choice is the subtle contradictions and changes within the timeline of events. At first it seems like it's done by mistake, but it's used so often that it can't be anything but intentional. One example of this is in one scene where Sherlock walks into a room and is talking to someone. The camera is angled so that the top of the screen is showing us the wall above the doorway, with Sherlock in the background. Just a few moments later, we see the exact same place above the door, but this time there's a rifle hanging there.

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Less obvious are the contradictions within the timeline. Several fans of the show have taken all the dates that are mentioned and plotted them out, but the dates mentioned for certain events go against the order in which we know certain events happened.

The effects of this deliberate messing around with the details have caused a lot of theories to spring up, ranging from the show being shown through Sherlock's memories, to the theory that all of the changes in details are actually clues leading to a secret episode. Possibly the best theory is that these contradictions are simply meant to keep viewers guessing, to share with them a little bit of the mystery.

Emma Farley --------------WandaVision Review WandaVision, a television show available on Disney+, follows the life of two superheroes Wanda “Elizabeth Olsen” and Vision “Paul Betteny” as they live a suburban life, but “everything is not as it seems.” Every episode, based on a different decade in American television, has many unexpected twists that leave viewers wanting more and confused.

In the first episode of WandaVision, Wanda and Vision move into Westview and try to follow a normal suburban lifestyle as newlyweds. As the show progresses, many funny moments happen, but that comes to an end at a dinner party. Vision’s boss chokes on a chocolate-covered strawberry and his wife saying, “please stop it,” leaves viewers creeped out.

A commercial soon plays and it shows a toaster, made by Stark. The toaster beeps like a bomb, making many believe that it sounds like the bomb that killed Wanda’s parents.

In the second episode, Wanda hears a helicopter sound, so she goes outside to check.

When Wanda goes outside she sees a toy helicopter, but it has color (the show for two episodes had no color).

Later in the episode, Wanda goes to a meeting where she meets Geraldine “Teyonah Parris” (Monica) and the radio goes haywire and says, “Wanda, Wanda, who is doing this to you.” Those eerie words cause viewers to do a double-take and leaves them in shock.

Another commercial plays and it shows a watch. A Strucker watch made by Hydra.

Strucker works for Hydra and took Wanda and Pietro (her twin

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brother) and gave them their abilities. Confirming that the commercials show what has happened in Wanda’s life. At the end of the episode, a man in a bee suit comes through the sewer, but Wanda rewinds time and changes what happens.

WandaVision has caused many theories by viewers and with only two episodes. Filled with mystery, comedy, and twists and turns, many look forward to the upcoming episodes to see what happens next. Perfect for MCU fans and any mystery junkies, WandaVision gets a 10 out of 10.

Works Cited “WandaVision.” Rotten Tomatoes, www.rottentomatoes.com/tv/wandavision.

Marielle Miranda --------------How Omori Expertly Describes Mental Illness The game “Omori,” developed by OMOCAT, provides a wonderful look into the mind of a child who has experienced trauma and suffers from depression and anxiety.

Omori tells a story about a child, commonly referred to as “Sunny” on the internet, who lost his sister, Mari, through an accident with him and his friend Basil. He takes the blame for her death and suffers from heavy bouts of hallucination and dissociation due to depression through the game. Through the journey he encounters his old friends and makes amends with them. Omori shows how experiences and friends that surround a child can heavily affect their mental state in the future, which can help teens who have experienced trauma. All of the imagery within the game expertly enhances the meaning and message behind the story, as the main character Sunny overcomes his trauma throughout the storyline. Additionally, multiple endings exist, which shows how not every person’s journey through trauma and mental illness may end the same way.

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Omori shows how mental illness and childhood trauma affects teens and adults in everyday life. Emotional trauma can cause a large amount of guilt and shame in a child’s life and it can also cause large amounts of nightmares (Emotional and Psychological). The story shows this through Sunny carrying the weight of his sister’s death on his shoulders. This results in a struggle for him to participate in everyday tasks and hang out with his childhood friends, who remind him of his sister’s death. In the dream section of the game, as Sunny persists in overcoming his trauma and fears, they start to bleed into his dreams. “More than two thirds of children reported at least 1 traumatic event by age 16” (Understanding). Since so many teens have experienced some form of trauma, this game reaches out to this target demographic and helps them overcome their fears and damage.

The art style and contrasting color schemes helps convey the meaning behind Omori. Within the dreamworld, Sunny’s escape from reality, it uses bright colors and vibrant, young characters to contrast heavily from the grown up friends of Sunny in the real world. “In video games, the color palette is your first impression” (Robillard). Omori starts off as a black and white game, but then transforms into a colorful dreamland with bright and lively characters. This illusion then breaks by entering the real world in the video game, which has much darker colors and much bleaker color schemes. Contrast between the three main parts of the game, white space, dreamworld, and the real world, provides a truly special experience playing blindly and enhances the difference between the real world and Sunny’s fantasy he has created to stay safe.

Omori having multiple endings shows how overcoming trauma, unfortunately, may not end the same for all victims of abuse or neglect. The good ending for this game

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results in Basil and Sunny making amends and accepting what they had done to Mari, and ultimately telling their old friends, who became affected by the event, the truth.

Demons that had haunted the two during the game disappear as they smile at each other. This ending seems bittersweet at first, however analyzing it further shows that this event rids the two main characters of their guilt of the incident. In all other endings of the game, Sunny or Basil die in one way or another. Suicide exists as an unfortunate result in most of these endings, showing how trauma may even lead to suicide as early as teenage years. In 2018 the suicide rate increased from 6.7% in 2007 to 10.7%, and it seems to keep increasing through the years (Dastagir). However, with enough work, damaged teens can achieve a good ending and overcome their fears.

Omori creates a wondrous atmosphere through the storyline and message of the characters travelling through trauma, anxiety, and depression. The game teaches how to overcome fears and past experiences while still showing an engaging and fantastical world through color theory. Main characters Sunny and Basil understand and accept their past mistakes and move on in the good ending. However, Omori shows the much more real and sad truth that not all stories regarding depression end with a happy ending, as numerous may end in the taking of one’s own life. The characters captivate audiences and OMOCAT does a masterful job at displaying the realities of mental illness without it darkening the game entirely.

Lex Becraft

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The Reflections

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Playlist The same old, fast, trap rap songs. No matter how many times I played the genre, I continued to grow cold. ONE WHOLE YEAR OF RAP, over and over again each day. I still continued to listen. In the car, I had my wired headphones plugged, listening to “YIKES” by Kanye West on a Wednesday afternoon.

I finally grew frustrated, and threw off my pearly white headphones. However, I suddenly hear a fast funky lick on the radio. A catchy guitar rhythm, powerful drums, and a loud bass.

I grew amazed as the singer entered. I sang even though I didn't know the lyrics. Bass guitar thumping, guitar tone ringing, Hi-hats clamping, and the kick drum speeding to shock you. I couldn’t get over it.

Fast forward two years, my music taste completely changed. I implemented Soul, Funk, Jazz and Blues into my playlists. There is not one song that sounds the same. All perfect in their own way.

Izak Bulanadi --------------Somedays Somedays I watch as the birds fly by my window Under the tree, over the bush, on the porch Never do I see the birds fighting, I wish I could be a bird Day after day I would be free to do what I want And have friends I want to have, nobody could hurt me Yeah, I wish people were like birds Clayton Wurtz --------------First Day A shy girl who walked the halls to the first bell, of the first day of school, quiet as a mouse. She treaded lightly. As the girl asked for directions she soon arrived at a large set of double doors, they were wide open. The doors revealed a gymnasium, a couple of teachers, bright wood flooring, orange and white lines all across the floor, basketball rims let down low. A man wearing a North Carolina Lacrosse jersey and shorts approached her, taking her name and pointing to a section of bleachers for her to sit in.

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By the time the man had turned around her eyes began to water, the fresh 6th grader, nearly pouring over with anxiety. Her brown hair drooped down into her face, covering her hazel eyes as they reflected the fluorescent lighting, looking down to hide the fact she could cry at any moment.

She sat alone, looking down at her backpack for a little while, she had been early on her first day of school, with no friends, and no sense of direction. Eventually a couple more kids started making their way in, however the first one to sit in her section decided to do so right next to her, which only caused her more panic. What alarmed her the most is the fact the other girl towered over her. Compared to her under five foot stature, she felt intimidated. As the anxious girl’s mind raced a million miles a second the student spoke, another female. Shock initiated within the soft eyed brunette, she spoke back immediately complimenting her hair. The two got along very well after that and stayed very good friends for all three years of middle school.

As the saying goes, “April showers bring May flowers.” didn't exactly capture the spring of eighth grade for the friends though, It actually tore them apart, along with many other friendships the anxiety driven girl had built. This disease broke out, only taking a single day to shut schools down. All classes were switched from what we considered normal, to the new normal. Every kid had class work to do online, with classes to attend through video call. No such thing as hanging out or riding the bus home with your friends. The friendship between the two fell through the floor after school had been yanked away from them, one with Dyslexia and the other with ADD, school became increasingly harder for the both of them, not to mention both their sports, leaving them to eventually drift apart.

Kaitlyn Nash --------------White Cuts Across Me White cuts across me like knives leaving blue And red patterns; though I have many layers nothing protects me from its wrath; I am not welcomed and it makes it known growing harsher Against the currents basking me in all its glory; Only months ago I wished for a day like this to Take away the burning in face and moisture on my back I was desperate for a release then; For time to rescue me from this deadly sin;

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Uncertainty crosses me; did I wish to go back in time and feel the ache of what Felt like a million blazing suns?; If I never received an answer to this question I would go mad; So I waited for time to rescue myself and received my answer.

Trinity Jefferson --------------Essay Prompt on Boldness The prompt states: “Tell us about something bold that you’ve recently done.”

Since Covid, I haven’t done anything bold.

Bella Reteguis --------------We Used To Smile At People we used to smile at people across the cash register at a grocery store after we grabbed the money without a worry of touching fingertips we walked away with a grin on our faces with our biggest worry being the smile on our faces smiling the wrong way, or without that little twinkle in our eyes we never thought to worry about the distance between one another or making sure to disinfect our groceries before bringing them inside we were simply normal today, we smile through a mask with the only decipher being our eyes worried about getting closer than 6 feet apart with hand sanitizer strapped to our belt loops were only able to smile with our eyes when will I ever be able to feel the butterflies that come with seeing someone's genuine smile?

Or be able to see anything above the mask for that matter?

Caroline Bilello ---------------

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Covid-19 The Corona Virus of 2019 had a great impact on my life. This has changed me in positive and negative ways. I can’t say if it has changed me more in a positive way or in a negative way because it had the same amount of effect on me. Covid-19 has impacted several individuals' lives and many died from it. It has affected mental health globally around the world, especially as of right now in the United States.

In positive ways, Covid has made me quarantine for about a year now. It has changed my regular routine I do everyday. Quarantine has made me eat less meals, which impacted me in a good way because I needed to lose weight and it’s one of my tricks of losing weight. I didn’t eat healthy since I consumed less than three meals a day, but I have a small appetite, so I don’t need to eat a lot. Furthermore, I don’t physically move all the time, that makes me feel less hungry. Additionally, it has changed my health in a good way. It made me have a great mindset and now I do yoga and exercise almost twice a week. I eat less and healthily, before quarantine started, I used to eat a lot of fast foods and sodas, now I eat salads and more homemade food, also I consume more water now.

On the other hand, Covid has affected me in negative ways. Learning at home has affected me in a negative way. I don’t know about the others, but learning at home has complicated my learning style. All because of not concentrating. When I see myself at school, teachers usually supervise us and tell us to do work, but at home teachers don’t always know what we do. Sometimes I slack off and while I don’t pay any attention for a second I miss like half of the lesson and that stresses me out. Also I cannot hang out with my friends physically. Before quarantine I used to hang out with my friends all the time. Having sleepovers, going to water parks, and theme parks, but since quarantines still happening, I can’t hang out with them. I miss all my friends very much and I only can facetime with them and text them, but the pandemic has complicated the situation and seeing them on technology does not make the situation better. These two activities had the most negative influence on me.

Corona-Virus has affected me like this overall. From positive ways, I’ve become a better self after quarantine, eating healthier has physically changed my figure in a good way.

Roughly in negative ways, Covid has affected my daily lifestyle by not hanging out with friends and doing school work from home. These activities had the most influence on me during the pandemic.

Suji Lee ---------------

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Calendar 2020 March 2020. Turns out, no school for two weeks! Sweet. Like our early, extended spring break. I don't think I’ll go out though because this virus stuff, starting to freak me out man.

April 2020. The two weeks have finished and we haven't gone back to school just yet.

We just need to get this covid-19 virus under control before we can go back.

May 2020. Really looking good for me now, but at least they are not grading much.

Losing motivation, restless nights, and a struggle to get out of bed.

June 2020. So the Greece trip that, at the end of this month, just got cancelled. This really affects the whole world now.. It's so crazy how much can change in this span of time. I had a small graduation party with one friend and their family. I’m not my happiest, but I still appreciated the gesture.

July 2020. Happy 14th birthday to me! I didn't see any of my friends this year, or have a birthday party at all. But at least I got facetime with one friend and had cake.

August 2020. My dad’s birthday, on the 19th, so I texted him but he never responded. I knew he had moved on but I didn’t know it would hurt this much.

September 2020. First day of high school! Attending GSWLA at Tallwood High School.

I’m so excited for when I can go to school in person! I went there for the schedule placing and it’s so big!

October 2020. I went to school in person finally! It’s not what I expected but it's still entertaining. Masks 24/7, social distancing, hand sanitizer etc. Who knew the hand sanitizer at school was that gross now? Happy Halloween! Finally my favorite holiday has arrived, Halloween. I didn't really plan out my costume, so I just wore the inflatable fat suit from last year and wore a tin foil hat because why not.

November 2020. Sadly, the school went back to virtual due to the numbers. It’s confirmed when we back to virtual schooling. I finally got to see my family through this whole pandemic. I really enjoyed spending time with them and eating the food for Thanksgiving. This year hasn’t given me much though..

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December 2020. Merry Christmas! Not much has really changed, but I got to see my family again. Happy New Year's Eve! I don't think much will happen or much change at all, but we will see what 2021 will bring us.

Grace Freese ---------------

High school Back to school we go Return to the computer Now in school to stay Nate Hallberg --------------Anagnorisis She looks behind her She sees the ocean waves and Thinks of her old life Ava Estep --------------Thoughts Racing Through My Head I feel like I'm out of time, Because there is something always on my mind, Even as I write the next line, I feel like my work is in a bind.

Sitting at my desk, I lay my head to rest, And I feel I need to double check, Did I just miss my test?

Coming out of my shell, But I'm always feeling overwhelmed, I always hope no one can tell, I'm not really from this realm.

I have to get out of this mode,

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So I'm going to start going with the flow.

Raysean Stovall --------------Writing Struggles I went into the ninth grade as a struggling writer, it became exhausting to write and unamusing for me.

When applying I feared my struggle would show through in my essays and I wouldn’t get that acceptance email. In joining the GSWLA, I made sure I had a goal to give it my all, even though I knew courses would take much time, with vigorous and difficult content. However, when I first started my English class, my jaw dropped. I thought writing five paragraph essays would take months to write and we only had weeks.

When we did our first writing assignment, a writing assignment called tab notes on the Garden of Eden, I got a 15/15. However, I think my defining moment that really boosted my confidence as a writer happened when I wrote my comparison essay for “The Lottery” and “Garden of Eden.” I remember it felt like yesterday, I stayed up until 11pm, and when I finally finished I felt relived and proud of myself. It felt as though I finally wrote a piece of writing that deserved a high score, a writing that didn’t become exhausting and that I somewhat enjoyed.

The confidence I had, to my surprise became incredibly valid, when I got a high score on that essay, and applauded for having the most interesting introduction out of all the other essays my teacher had read. This school has made it a requirement to improve my writing and word choices, and for that I will forever have gratitude in my heart. I see the growth that I have from last year, to the beginning of this year, to now, the end of the year and I believe my growth has shown very evidently.

Jayme Taylor --------------On Writing Often it happens that I dip my pen often into the ink of poetic writing. Other days I just write stuff that pops into my head. This 12-Piece has proven a combination of both, which I enjoyed very much.

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I write music religiously and as a personal preference and style, every word should rhyme or connect in some way, shape, or form. Lyrical would understate my goals, thus instead of “cheating” and simply looking up every word on rhymezone, (that would take hours) I have fine tuned my ability to quickly grab the words I need from within my mind, a “skill” derived from daily practice, reading the dictionary, and going through decks of vocabulary flash cards.

This in turn has helped me to a great extent while writing this document, and taking into consideration that most of my contemporaries have told me that the limited vocabulary challenging, I find myself lucky. I merely wrote as I typically would, at my typical pace, and regular comfort. Now actually taking my time to write some other than lyrics?

A different matter, and I struggle to focus on academics, (I have a dumpsheet tab I alternate with homework where I jot down random lyrics or rhymes that pop into my head whilst working) but I manage, unfortunately that typically means last-minute scenarios and docked points.

Alas as for the whole year, I do not think I experienced a significant shift in my writing style apart from learning to write through a more poetic, or graceful sort of lense, though perhaps it remains novice, still in development.

Yet for that ability I have come to actively use and appreciate, I thank my English teacher.

George Eden Cardenas --------------Classtime Sonnet This needs to be turned in by eight-fifty; I think i’ve found a start for this sonnet, It needs to be as good as it can be, To finish, I need to get right on it, I think I have got the hang of it now, I’m thinking I’m writing this really well, How I’m writing this fast, I know not how, But I’m rushing to finish by the bell, It’s not relevant, but I’m in a seat, It’s almost time for class to be over, I realize my starters sometimes repeat,

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Maybe I’ll finish with a four leaf clover, I have done my 14 lines for this poem, I’m hoping that I will not have them shown.

David Osborne --------------Breathless At that moment, it felt like all the air had escaped my lungs. Wildly gasping for air, reaching for the side of my bed to hold onto, I flailed, but no items appeared for me to grab. Breathless, I closed my eyes and held myself tight. I counted to ten and took a deep breath. Air filled my lungs as I opened my eyes. Sunlight filtered into my room through the thin curtains. Aside from the bed and curtains, my room had no indication of life in it. Not even a dresser or clothes. After I pulled a hoodie over my head, I stared at myself in the mirror. I look like a mess. While staring at my messy hair and baggy eyes, I groaned and headed to the bathroom. Like my room, the bathroom felt empty. I pushed my mop of hair down and headed downstairs. Only the emptiness that filled the rest of this house existed down there. I didn’t have any boxes to unpack or furniture to sit on. My legs began to shake as I tried to take a step. I placed one foot in front of the other. As my weight shifted, I suddenly lost control. My legs gave out, and I fell onto the floor. It felt as though my condo swallowed me.

The ground below me disappeared and all I could did fall into the dark pit beneath me. I swirled void of my thoughts. My hands covered my ears in an attempt to block out the sounds I heard, but I could feel them tugging at my hands. Words swirled around in my head, unwelcome thoughts, each one felt like a stab piercing my heart. I need to breathe. I took another breath, but I still couldn’t feel at all. What if I didn’t? Why should I keep trying? Words crept through my mind, slowly taking hold of me. Even though the darkness had swallowed me, I kept falling. Still surrounded by just black. I could only just fall deeper and deeper into the pit. A cold shock ran through my spine, and I woke with a start.

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My knees felt like jello, but I stood up and continued onwards. The condo felt hollow. I couldn’t feel the warmth of family, no furniture, not even another person walking around. The whole house truly felt empty. I slowly opened my weathered cedar door. The cold air outside filled my lungs. My throat burned with every breath. I’ve lived here for two months and I had never paid attention to the goings on in the neighborhood. Kids scurried across the street and parents watched from their porches. I smiled as a ball rolled to my feet. Even with kids playing in the street and making noise I felt calm. Suddenly, a car flew past while the driver practically punched the car’s horn. It startled so much I fell backward into the snow. After that, the kids stopped playing in the street and I stayed alone outside in the cold. I trudged through the ice and snow to a local tea shop.

Before I could enter, I heard a voice whisper in my ear. You’ve screwed it up. I forced a smile and opened the door. You’re making it worse. You should have gone.

Every thought I had I pushed down. Wear a smile and act fine. As the door to the tea shop opened I swallowed the lump in my throat and I stood in line. Suddenly, across the floor, I saw a person who caught my eye. A guy on his computer. He had short dark hair and a charming smile. There existed a grin crossing his face as he typed on his keyboard. He’s probably texting his girlfriend. You have no chance.

A smile ran away from my face. More words swirled around my head, and my anxiety squeezed me tight. His head shifted and he looked up from his computer. My eyes darted anywhere but towards him. A myriad of the worst situations swirled around my brain until I came to a realization. He had made eye contact with me. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and looked away. Before I could run he stood up. He’s coming to call you creep. He probably wants to know why you’re staring at him. As he continued his approach I began to panic. Words flew through my mind, ideas, excuses, and even lies to tell, whatever I could do to throw him off of my scent. Before he reached my table, he turned and walked into the bathroom. A sigh escaped my lungs, and I decided I’d try to leave before he came back. I faked a smile one more time and walked out.

The cold air filled my lungs as little flurries of snow rained from the sky. It felt nostalgic. Memories of playing in the snow with my friends came flooding back. Friends

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from long ago and an unbroken family. Suddenly, I snapped out of my memories as my foot came out from under me. I slammed face-first into the sidewalk. As I stood up and brushed myself off I looked for what tripped me up. A small pool of water had frozen to the sidewalk. When I stared at it only my own face stared back. How fitting. The person tripping me up lives in the mirror.

Rather than continuing down the sidewalk, I ran through the street. I had no clue where the path led. I just ran blindly. I ran even when I passed my empty condo. My legs felt numb and I couldn’t breathe, but I still ran. Eventually, the city disappeared and I found myself lost in the woods. I couldn’t tell the time, and no buildings or powerlines existed around me. Look what you did to yourself. You got yourself lost. Now you’ll never get back home. To collect myself I stopped. I took a deep breath and focused on what surrounded me. As I centered myself, I noticed a few meters ahead, a clearing at the base of a hill that would allow me to see better. I pressed through the pain in my legs and climbed to the top. Rather than a simple hill that poked up out of the treeline, I found myself at the edge of a cliff. Beneath me existed a perfectly still lake. As I turned to look around I saw the large CN Tower. Its tall form stands out and points the way home. Before I could start walking in that direction the sickly sweet voice crept back into my mind. Do it. Jump.

Once again darkness swallowed the world. This time when I fell I couldn;t tell if a panic attack had struck again or if I had truly fallen off the precipice.The dark void consumed me, and all air left my lungs. No words swirled around me this time though. I fell into the darkness, but strangely I didn’t feel the splash of water. Instead, I woke up in the snow beneath where I stood. As I sat up I found myself calmed by the presence of the lake. I sat atop the cliff, watching what happened below. I gathered my confidence and called the one person I swore I never would. I turned on my phone and scheduled an appointment with a therapist. Cancel it. He’ll only judge you. The sickly sweet voice whispered in my ear. No. He will listen and help me. I took a deep breath and finally took off my mask. Instead of forcing a smile and holding my breath, I frowned. Tears streamed down my face as I lay in the snow. I filled my mind with memories of my childhood. I faced the demon that plagued me and called for help.

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Hayden Sizemore --------------The Dripping Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. An endless pattering of rain sounded about the decrepit room.

Too heavy to ignore but too light to get mad about it. I checked the time again. Only three minutes had passed since I had taken a break. Focusing my eyes back on the computer, I tried to spew out the last few sentences needed. A terrible way to get work done really.

Glancing out the hole I called a window, a shimmer of bright blue caught my attention.

Ah yes, Harvey’s Lake. The jewel I get to see everyday. But only look at it. The old bat had a barbed wire fence put around his property years ago. All hopes of seeing that treasure up close, lost. It was also unhelpful that he had gone and planted evergreens around that pond. My subpar cypresses swelled with red and orange, like someone had set them on fire. But, I had that small view of green, of everlasting and ever growing trees. Succeeding trees.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Now it grew louder. All at once a big fat raindrop landed on my face and I looked up. A crack, like an envelope slot in my roof, continued to let in the rain. I cursed as I stood quickly, momentarily forgetting my cane. After inspecting the crack, it finally registered that I stood unsupported. My knee buckled and I caught myself on the desk. Grabbing the splintering wood, I breathed deeply. They said psychosomatic. Doctorate or not, I knew my knee hurt badly.

In my haste to grab the cane, I knocked over a stack of my books and a nightmarish splash ensued. I grimaced. Looking down, I saw the puddle the crack had welcomed and in that puddle swam my favorite writing. Apparently, not my day.

The rain sounded harder. I heard it, like a sharp finger prodding at my subconscious, the tap tap tap of water against my roof. This unsettling sound drew a quick breath from my lungs. It felt constricting and cold. I needed to get out.

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I scrambled out of the shack like a madman, breaths quick and shallow. The red around me felt hot and swollen like the forest had inhaled deeply and had yet to let it out. It held its breath and in turn so did I. Through the haze of panic, I could see a clear path leading me farther into the autumn trees. It swallowed me whole. Throwing myself down the path, I started to make out a lighter color. The hue of green bled into the clouds like chalk in a storm or watercolor paints.

Gradually, the reds, oranges, yellows and browns faded away and mossy green and juniper took their place.

I sighed as I met Harvey’s Lake. The sun, which had hidden itself away, peeked its way around the clouds. Gentle rays danced in the air and played with the crystal waters.

Birds who waited out the drizzle floated like paper airplanes, bobbing in the breeze. The humidity that had tied my throat off almost completely dissipated with the trail of fire.

The scene entranced me and I momentarily forgot about the fence.

A sharp prick caught my attention and I looked down, finally acknowledging the wire. I glared. This dreadful piece of metal locked me in with the heavy burning oaks. I prodded the barrier with my cane only succeeding in scratching the wood. Thinking for a moment, I decided to let it go and proceeded to hold up the wire with the cane. I slunk through, however, the wood snagged terribly. I pulled and pulled, hoping the whole fence wouldn’t come down. I eventually gave up. I walked away from the fence, my cane still lodged on barbs, and stopped at the shore.

Taking a peek at the water, I saw a golden school of fish. They swirled and chased each other, leaving trails of rippling blue in their wake. The picture looked familiar and I recalled the large ornate mirror my mother used to sit in front of in my youth. Each morning, she would sit me down and practice the speeches she intended on giving as a professor of literature. I didn’t fully appreciate them then, but the nostalgia grounded me. As the fish swam, I thought about my mother and what she would say to me in this situation. Would she be happy that I lead a stable life? Or would she encourage me to find what made me happy?

Knowing she would have told me to stop torturing myself, I looked up from the golden P E E R2 0 2 1

fish. It had stopped raining by now and the sun cascaded down upon the water. The clouds that had previously fogged the sky drifted apart revealing the bright sky. I smiled warmly. The green trees seemed to dance with the breeze and birds cried out.

I knew exactly what I had to do. Standing up, my bad knee no longer paining me, I turned around. The red trees I escaped from seemed dusty and cold. Not something I wanted to return to. So, I marched right through that hellscape and threw open the door to my shack. The computer I had abandoned sat idly on the desk. My hands glided across it with ease and the swoosh of the email rippled through me like a shock. I glanced at the suitcase that lay hidden beneath my bed and ripped it out. Shoving all my belongings into that case, I burst from the wooden doors. The red didn’t seem as suffocating now. It felt more final, more conclusive. Like a goodbye.

I left that little shack in the woods, my computer still open, the tab reading “Letter Of Resignation.”

C.J. Weisel --------------Since Since I am skinny, I don’t eat as much as a lot of people do Since I am Shy, I don’t talk to people a lot Because I wonder how scientists look at the earth and other planets, I look on the internet Since I hear so many birds tweet at night, I go and cover my ears every night and fall back to sleep Since I see so many people in lunch sitting, I got sit by my friends Because I want to go and travel the world, I work so hard and do my best at school

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The reason, why I pretend that I am old enough to work, is because I want to help my family

Since I feel that I am not a kid no more, I need to work hard and finish school I touch a pencil to write good sentences and words with it I worry about going to college because there’s a lot of work to do I cry because I watch so many dramatic movies and tv shows I understand my parents work so hard to support and give us what we need I say that God is true, so I go to church and worship Him I dream of being a teacher, because I want to teach and tell kids what they need to learn

Since I want to reach my dreams, I always try my best Since I am young, I hope that my dreams come true Since I am skinny, I don’t eat as much as a lot of people do Since I am shy, I don’t talk to people a lot.

Jumeirah David --------------Mr. Chameleon Thursday morning, the dim light of the sun gently shining through the curtains brings him to the start of his day. The sound of his feet hitting the floor echoes as he finds his way downstairs towards the living room, where his pet chameleon, Mr. Chameleon, resides. His mom made it known that she hated this name, but he refused to change it so the matter became no more.

He stares at him as he thinks about his life at this very moment. “What do I want?

What do I need? What do I want to achieve?” These are the questions he asks himself when he spends time with Mr. Chameleon.

“Mr. Chameleon, how can I become a rich man in the future?” he asks the pet.

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“You are still so young and you think of such matters?” he responds.

“I want to be rich so I can afford all of the things I can’t right now, like a television or video game…”

“In any case, thinking of your financial situation is always good. Well, at your age the best thing to do is to save any amount of money you receive and spend as little as possible. Follow this simple technique and you will live as rich as a king!”

He takes his words to heart. He doesn’t question it, why would Mr. Chameleon ever lie to him? Every dollar, nickel, penny… he saves it to his piggy bank straight away.

Save, save, save. He will become rich, he will follow as Mr. Chameleon told him!

Eight years later, only twenty four but living his life as a king would. Well, not exactly, but certainly richer than times as a child. Televisions, video games, he has them all! Mr. Chameleon still lives with him in the living room, just like long ago when he asked him the fateful question. He turns to the mirror, rimmed with gold. As he gazes into it, he begs the question “so who did I become?”

But the mirror gives no response, as he stares into the glass that shows no reflection. How could this happen? He saved every dime, nickel, and dollar, spent only a small amount of money on clothes and necessities every so often… how could this happen? He followed the rule! Sadly, he shifts his gaze to the right, towards Mr. Chameleon’s cage.

“Mr. Chameleon, how can I become a happy man in the future?” he asks the pet.

“What do you mean? Look at your mirror with hints of gold, look at your ginormous home with a green garden in front, look at your televisions, your video games! How could you ask for any more than that?”

This stands as the first time Mr. Chameleon spoke with such passion in his voice.

And yet, he cannot respond with the same passion.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, Mr. Chameleon…,” he trails on.

“Tell you what. A happy man finds one thing in his life to focus on. Whatever that may be, find it. Follow this technique and you will be as jolly as Santa Claus!”

So he searched and searched for that one object to focus on. He checked every place; under the bed, out in the garden, behind the shower curtain. Still, he could not seem to find this one object, so he took his troubles back to the wise one.

“You imbecile! It is not something you find under your bed, in the garden, or behind your shower curtain! Dig deeper within yourself!”

He realized his mistake and furthered the path towards his goal of living life as a happy man. Every morning at the brink of dawn, he focused all his energy on the brilliant colors of the sunrise. He felt the truth in Mr. Chameleon’s words as he sensed himself becoming happier and happier. Then he proceeded to every window he possibly could in the large mansion to let all of the happiness in. He didn’t know why, but Mr. Chameleon gave him an uninterested look as he did so.

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Every item of clothing he wore, grew into a color of yellow to represent the item he now loved most. Mr. Chameleon’s words truly resonated deep within him, and he hoped he’d seem proud.

“Proud is not necessarily my word of choice, but I’ll choose to not state my opinion on this matter,” he responded when he asked for his feedback. “Nevertheless, you accomplished your goal.”

He basked in the feeling of receiving his approval, along with the feeling of his newfound happiness.

“But,” he suddenly stated sharply, “I suddenly found myself asking the same question after I watched you obtain this happiness. You, what can I do to become a happy chameleon in the future?”

“You are just a pet. Everything that I provide for you is your happiness. How could you ask for any more than that?”

Mr. Chameleon did not give him a response, but paid him another uninterested look.

After taking care of his other deeds for the day, he made his way back to his trusted friend’s cage, Mr. Chameleon. Walking through windows full of yellow happiness and yellow golds of richness along the way, he finally arrived to his tiny home. He peeked inside, but saw no figure that resembled him. “Maybe he’s hiding,” he thought.

“Mr. Chameleon?” he asked but still no answer. He searched a bit harder and found an item of interest, although it turned out as not the chameleon. Instead, a cocoon. Cocoons and chameleons have no relation whatsoever, so how could this appear here? Something left behind from the pet? He pondered for a moment but it suddenly struck me. Although confusing, he somehow seemed to understand. Staring at the now empty cage longingly, he recalled the words he said to him earlier today. He dropped to the floor in front of Mr. Chameleon’s cage as the yellow that filled his mansion full of televisions and video games dimmed to the color black as night slowly overtook.

Kaylee Blevins --------------I Am Human I am human.

I am kind yet spiteful.

I am passionate yet unmotivated.

I overthink but underperform.

I believe in love for others, but not for myself.

I am confident, but I am insecure.

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I am human.

I am serious, but I am fun-loving.

I believe in fantasy as an escape from the perils of the real world.

I would rather exist in the limelight than hiding in the shadows.

I am a brother, a son, and a grandson.

I am human.

Dylen Foster --------------Happiness “I play varsity sports, field hockey and volleyball. I am also on the varsity cheer team, my boyfriend is a football player. I am a straight A student, happy as one can be. Life is going great, everything is perfect.

Oh wait, oops that was last year. Can we switch this up?

Okay, I can’t play sports anymore due to an injury, my boyfriend broke up with me because I am no longer a cheerleader. My grades have been struggling, and I have been diagnosed with depression. Life is not going great, everything is definitely not perfect.”

Her classmates just stared at her as she finished reading her short story.

Jordan Brokaw --------------Student/Athlete Ever wonder what it means to live life as a dual sport student athlete? Think the title comes with lots of glory and praise? Do Teachers make the workload easier because they know it gets hectic? Speaking first hand the task takes a lot of hard work and commitment to pull it off.

Furthermore, through all the games, practices and training, school must be maintained.

These past weeks I have been booked and haven’t had a lot of time to myself. My week starts on Monday, during which I have volleyball practice in the morning and basketball conditioning in the afternoon. As well as having school work assigned that needs to be completed. Tuesday, I go to school face to face and have volleyball conditioning right

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after. Wednesday I have school and volleyball practice. Thursday I have school then volleyball training. Friday I have school and guitar lessons. Sometimes I forget that I have guitar lessons when my week gets busy.

Twice a month I will have a tournament, which may require me to go out of town. My mother is the main individual that takes me to my tournaments along with my sister. The tournaments will usually last two to three days. If I don’t have a tournament during the weekend I would have a three hour volleyball practice on Saturday and basketball training on Sunday. In the middle of all the practices, training and games, I still manage to squeeze in time to do my school work and no, the teachers don’t take it easy on me.

However, there are times when I get lazy, my mom may say; and end up getting a low grade in class, but I think during those times, I just want to do Me. It may seem as though I don’t enjoy this life, but I have a love for both games and I wouldn’t want to choose. The amount of time and effort it takes to accomplish what I do leaves me feeling with a certain amount of pride at the end of it all.

Being a dual sport student athlete comes with more challenges than the average student. One would have to ask themselves, do they feel it worthwhile or not.

Personally, I love it all.

Destanie Ambers --------------Gymnastics Blood, sweat, tears Day after day Constantly looking in the face of the devil we call fears Being told that hard work always pays off Being told to constantly point your feet But it isn’t always enough Winning or losing in a meet Coaches giving rough workouts Always told that if you're not first, you’re last Bones grinding together as feet and hands hit the floor Regan Askew

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The Reactions

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Montag (from Fahrenheit 451) Montag closed the door of the firehouse behind him, dragging his feet along. Two days had passed since he had learned about the “unfortunate passing” of Clarise. He knew deep down that her death did not come as an accident. Yet, he trudged down that bleak street once more. He did not dare gaze up at the bright sun, for fear it would bring tears to his sunken eyes.

Although he may gaze upon the burning flames as they lick up libraries, the brightness of his uncertainty could not bear its full weight upon him, for he would crumble. As he belligerently strolled out of the subway onto his street, he felt the burden of knowledge and fear upon his shoulders.

“Should I turn them in? Should I keep them hidden? What would Millie do? What would Clarise do?” Questions swarmed through his head, bouncing off of the echoey chasms of his mind. He could feel the heat on his face rising, his cheeks burning with the need to scream. Montag felt the pressure rising in his temples as his footsteps hurriedly bounded towards home.

The books burned his hand, yet froze his fingers solid. They clamped onto the hardback spine, turning his knuckles white. The heavy panting that accompanied his march suddenly stopped.

He had reached his house. But, for some reason, he could not reach for the door. The handle shone in the afternoon light, similarly to Montag’s hands. Glistening with sweat at that point, even if he tried to unlock it, he would not have the ability to.

The dog followed suit, the cold hard gears grinding against one another. It bounded after him, tearing around street corners and businessmen. He did not care though, he only knew fight or flight. Every friend he thought he had loved died at the hands of this corruption. Montag turned slowly to face the beast as it leaped through the air, needle out and primed for injection. No fear showed itself in Montag’s eyes, as he had truly given up.

The metallic animal lunged one last time, but he knew what to do. Extending his forearm, Montag held off the dog and slammed the book between its jaws. As the beast struggled to break free, he gripped the syringe with all of his might and broke off the metal. A dying sound escaped the dog before it fell to the floor, the “life” leaving its eyes. Montag looked in success at the fallen evil as his hand got number and number. The needle had taken its toll, but he still stood above the dead beast.

He stooped down to pick up the mangled book and turned to face the woods. A sigh escaped his lips. Montag knew what he had to do, he knew where he had to go. So he began to walk. He walked to the river, the place of salvation. And as the city scoured behind him and sirens blared through the air, Montag could hear no sounds but the books within his mind.

Emily Wagner

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--------------Night Sky (from House on Mango Street)

When Nenny and I look up at the night sky, it feels like we see two drastically different scenes. One bright and beautiful, while the other seems morbid and scary. We get taught in school that the stars look like balls of hot gas and light that over time will explode and die in a flash of brilliance.

If stars die, they all see, they all care. They burst and shine like a beacon, making their final moments memorable and grand. They do not get to choose what time they die, like most in the galaxy, but they get the promise of an extravagant end.

But I do not live in the sky with those types of stars. The stars I live with explode every day, but not a soul really notices. The stars I live with can not become brilliant supernovas, they can only burn out and wither away in time. The others do not lament the beauty of one fallen star where I live.

I look up and I see a billion different ticking time bombs, bragging to me, mocking me.

The world sees us, the world cares about us. When we die, you clap and cheer and stare.

I hate the stars.

Melanie Stevenson --------------Paisley (from House on Mango Street) Nothing seems fair.

She always has pretty makeup.

And cool clothes.

And a nice name that fits her well.

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While with me they all stare like I’m crazy. I’ve gone to her house before. She has a nice big room with a lot of space . While I’m stuck in a room and my house doesn’t even have stairs.

I wish I had grades like hers. All straight As. Her life seemed so perfect. Her parents must feel so proud. At least that's how it seemed to me at first.

Look at Paisley with her pretty eyes.

Her stupid beaming smile.

Look how perfect she seems.

That's what most think.

Til’ they realize that it was all just a show because her parents never stay home. But when they do come home, they expect too much of her. They want too much from her. If she gets under an A she gets in trouble and gets everything taken and can’t talk much. She sometimes can’t even be allowed to leave the house for fresh air.

Sometimes I wanted to live like her.

But sometimes I want her to live like me.

Smart Paisley.

Pretty Paisley.

Nice Paisley.

Stupid Paisley.

I envy you so much.

Elizabeth Tilghman

--------------Rose (from House on Mango Street) I met a girl at school who just moved here. When she came in the class stared at her because she wore well made clothes and new shiny pink shoes with bows on them. I went up to her and she didn't laugh when I said my name, we call her Rose. She asked if I wanted to come

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play at her house and I did. I got to her house and she lives in a big house. It had nice new stairs, not at all apartment stairs. When my mom took me there she could only stare at the magnificence of this house. We went to her room where she has a nice big wooden bed. While my mom talked to her mom. In the middle of playing my mom came and took me out and said we have to go, I didn't understand why at the time, but mommy told me that the mom of Rose didn't want her daughter playing with a person from our part of town.

I don’t talk to Rose anymore.

Katie Reddel

--------------Unripened Grapes (from House on Mango Street) Some act sour like unripened grapes that make you pucker your lips in distaste and some act sweet like a frozen popsicle on a hot day. So many types and yet I don’t seem to belong to any group.

Born in the year of the horse just like my grandma. She acted as wild as a horse but so do I apparently. I ran down the street to Rachel and Lucy’s house. My friends, the ones neither sweet nor sour but instead like cheetahs racing down the open trails of life.

I pass by some drunkards. They smell stale like bread left out in the open for too long and has the lingering smell of beer that wafts up to your nose as you pass by them. Then I get to Rachel and Lucy’s house, their mother as kind and caring as a warm blanket during the cold chilly nights of winter.

All these types and yet I don’t fit in any.

Autumn Richardson

--------------Leaky Roofs (from House on Mango Street) When the rain starts pouring hard, the roof starts to leak. Mama and Papa said to pay no mind to it and to put buckets under the holes in the ceiling.

But I hate it.

In the future, when I get a new house, I should make sure it has a nice, strong roof. So when it rained the water wouldn't get in and I wouldn't have to empty buckets to put under it.

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My sister doesn't seem to mind though. She puts her hand under it and quickly pulls it back when the water falls. When the water hits the bottom of the bucket it makes a loud popping noise. My family doesn't seem to notice it, but I do.

Every few seconds, pop pop pop.

Raven Huerte

--------------Hazel and Gus (From Fault in Our Stars) Hazel and Gus meet They fall in love with cancer.

Gus is gone, love lost.

Trinity Alexander --------------The Rumbling (from: Attack on Titan) In one shot, the head flew Reaching onto the goal In one flash, a million giants grew The whole world taking a toll From the island into the seas Flatting the world around them A group of rebels begs and pleads But the head condemns All Hope now lost but one more plan To get on top and destroy the head But then the bomb gets taken Is humanity now dead?

Donell Bailey

--------------Awoken by the Past (from : Harry Potter) Harry was awakened. He sat up and looked around the room, on his nightstand next to his bed he saw his wand, and a picture.

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The memories came flooding back, it was hard to believe that it had been five years since he graduated from hogwarts. He looked over at Ginny who was still fast asleep.

He got up and went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water for himself. He looked out the window and to his disbelief he saw Hagrid. He could not believe it. He ran outside to meet him, after all it had been five years since he had seen him.

“Harry” he said, “We need you back at Hogwarts, something’s happened.”

Lexi Barrett --------------My Mister’s Writing Leaves Me Without Speech (POV: The Mistress Described in Sonnet 130) (#7) My mister’s writing leaves me without speech; Such creativity shines through his plays.

His knowledge goes beyond what most can reach, Interpreting his sonnets in all ways.

He writes of love ranging from good and bad From the committed death of deep lovers To flower juice that makes couples go mad, At least Romeo joked under covers.

His imagination cannot compare With such lively characters that amuse The audience so much that they stare When those starstruck lovers have to give in and lose.

Though I would love to boast more about him, Sonnet one-thirty must break all his limbs.

Mary Caroline Santiago Red Scarf Girl Communist China, but my family appears on the right

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What if the tunnel ends and I see no light?

How can I stay true to my country, but my family needs me?

Guards fly around like bees Looking for the next place to bite

Ashley Johnston --------------Laksmi (From the novel Sold) Laksmi from Nepal Full of beauty and life Aspiring for a better life Tin roof and beautiful clothing Giving all she had Not expecting the future.

Went off to work.

Noticing not in her plan.

Scared for what came next.

Fighting for help.

Fighting for savior.

Gabby Lane ---------------

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State Farm Letter (Genre Transformation from a Commercial to a Letter)

Dear Ms. Jackson, Regarding our brief discussion I would just like to inform you that no strings have to be pulled in order to get you the rates you want. Also, the Rodgers rate does not exist. We offer surprisingly great rates to all of our customers. When you want the real deal, like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.

Sincerely, Jake from State Farm

Reagan Goode

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The Synthetic

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Medium Rare Compare Steak, when cooked medium rare, Has nothing for it to compare.

Medium rare has an elegance, Like its made with extreme intelligence.

Rich, tender, and soft The smell comes in with a waft.

Unlike medium rare Well done gives great despair.

Dry, chewy, and bland Gritty like sand.

Well done cannot compare To a good medium rare.

Jack Whitmore --------------Comparison of Happiness and Sadness The dents in her cheek, Her hair truly showed a smile, Pink lips then white teeth.

Neck bent and faced down, Darkness falls under the eyes, Ajar and glazed over.

Maya Nobriga --------------Comparison of Day and Night The rising bright sky Awakens the crowd Sun shines so bright Creatures arise late Deep blue sky of tiredness Humans fast asleep

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Maria Czyzewski --------------Diamante

Pesach Busy, Exciting Cleaning, Cooking, Preparing Matzah, Wine, Eggs, Alfkoman Eating, Visiting, Learning Beautiful, Special Passover

Zionte Corprew ---------------

Comparison of Winter and Summer Winter As she walks through the door The cold shivers her to her core Her thick shoes up to her knees Still her toes start to freeze She catches flurries with her tongue As she wishes to stay forever young Her back on the white cold ground While her sister is still jumping around Her sister tries to pick a fight but she doesn't want to get frostbite All of her skin nicely covered Her mind still on the nice warm summer

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They go in to drink hot coco To they’re mother trying to sew Summer The water drips down her skin On her face forms a slight grin She looks up to see the blue sky To see all the pretty birds fly Her arms and legs are bare So she can feel the air As the sun burns so bright She enjoys that daylight As wet grass glides on her toes On the dandelion she blows Those hot sunny rays Still on the ground she lays Her skin becomes red The one thing she does dread Mya Weaver --------------Irony of Autumn Bold beautiful leaves The lovely season of fall Plenty of warm orange The pleasing piles of color With the bare trees up above Abigail Dial --------------Guns in the USA Around three-hundred six-teen people in the United States get shot from gun

violence each day. Making that around one hundred fifteen thousand people each year. Seven thousand of those people get shot can be children around the ages of

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one through seven-teen. Fourteen- hundred people are murdered each year.

(Brandy).

“Guns are used for protection against criminals, to reduce the likelihood of injury, loss of property, and sometimes death.” ( Malcom). This statement got proven false. Only four percent of guns used for self defence leaving the rest of the percent to use for violence and many other unnecessary reasons. Roughly around two hundred thousand gangs operate in America. Many of those of these gangs use firearms. For violence issues. Around fifty hundred people die from gang violence due to firearms. Most Americans own a firearm just to have it. (USJD).

Many kids also die due to firearms in the house. Kids get into their parents' firearms and could harm or kill themselves sometimes. Around one thousand five hundred people died from a firearm due to the firearm in the house.

All of these problems can prevent deaths if Americans put the guns away.

Senai Gerrins --------------The Philippine Archipelago (Excerpt from Research) Migrants settled the Philippine archipelago at least 30,000 years ago, when migrations from the Indonesian archipelago and elsewhere occurred. Additional migrations took place over the next millennia. Over time, social and political organization developed and evolved in the widely scattered islands.

The basic unit of settlement is the baranga. Led by a datu for the Kinship groups , and within the barangay, broad social divisions consisted of nobles, freemen, and dependent and landless agricultural workers and slaves. Over the centuries, Chinese traders joined Indo-Malay migrants.

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A major development in the early Islamic period included the introduction of traders and proselytizers from the Indonesian islands. By A.D. 1500, Islam had established itself in the Sulu Archipelago and spread from there to Mindanao; it reached the Manila area by 1565. In the midst of the introduction of Islam came the introduction of Christianity, with the arrival of the Spanish.

Hafsa Chowdhury --------------Syrian Civil War (Excerpt from Research) The Syrian civil war began in March of 2011, and citizens would expect some sort of political agreement or an armistice, but in fact, the complete opposite happened. Their government refuses to step down from power, which causes a lot of opposition groups to continue the fight for civil and political equality. But, since the war, citizens now see Syria as a third-world country ruled by destruction. Many individuals have forgotten that the country lived in peace with its citizens. Also, individuals have forgotten about the country's culture and history.

Syria resides in an area full of history and heritage with the city of Aleppo, one of the oldest and inhabited cities in the world followed by the country's capital of Damascus.

The country has had various groups of citizens living in it, contributing to the uniqueness of the country's culture. One of those groups included the Greeks, who at the time of 333 BC, had the leader of Alexander the Great and he conquered Syria until 64 BC when the Romans took over.

Syria had a predominantly Christian religious identity before Islam became introduced in 634 AD. This happened when the Muslim Empire of Umayyad took control of the country. After that, many other Islamic powers took control. From 1516 to 1918, the country became ruled by the Ottoman empire until the British seized Syria. After the first World War, France controlled parts of Syria until the 1920’s. Then, an independence movement began, but until 1945, they did not have full power.

Lucas Espina --------------How Air Pollution has Affected Iran’s Community (Excerpt from Research) According to Caspian News, “most of the air pollution in Iran can be caused by vigorous vehicles, motorbikes, refineries and power plants” (Severe Air Pollution ).

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Adding on to that, cars occur as a main factor to air pollution because they emit pollutants into the air as soon as they become used. In Iran cars have become a big resource to get around and therefore it has caused many issues and has contributed to Iran's problems.

Saying that, “Iranians are stuck using outdated equipment so they can keep their cars running”(Choking to Death In Iran). Furthermore, Iranian individuals have lower income and have a harder time updating their equipment, so therefore they befall as stuck using outdated equipment.

In addition, most cars use leaded gas, lack emissions control equipment and “over three million cars send out toxins in the air” says Ghorayshi, Azeen (Choking to Death In Iran). Saying that, again Iranian lack knowledge and money to help further themselves in changing the air pollution crisis.

Smog occurs mostly due to heavy traffic as well as factory pollution and can get worse by a lack of wind and rain. As well as, 25 percent of Iran’s industrial pollutants get produced in considerably big cities with an oversized population.

Finally, Iran has continued to struggle with air pollution due to the fact that Iran occurs as a megalopolis and Iran does not have the resources to end air pollution in a timely manner.

Ava Tarjan

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The Creative

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Winter A chilly morning The white snowflakes fall slowly Creates the Winter Aleck Moslares

--------------Winter at Auschwitz Scary wintertime Bloody, horrid, ice marches While watching snow fall .

Leleya Stallard

--------------The Field The field, motionless Like the field has surrendered In the boiling sun Samuel Maynard

--------------Change of Seasons During the change of seasons, Leaves started to fall, Down to the floor. The crunching, Of leaves filled the child with joy.

The child. The child. How sweet, The child, quite small.

Her cheeks red with joy. She had, Just met this boy and felt a new feeling.

She barely knew her father, a broken man, Her mother had wed. He had left the family, In their house. She always felt lonely in her, Own house. How peculier. How strange.

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After the change of season, she wept.

She couldn’t even think to stop crying.

Her mother, gone. Her father, gone.

Left alone. All alone. So lonely.

She had gone insane. The mind, Of a child with no person in sight.

She had watched a man, a broken man, With her mother, the night of her death.

The child no longer had bearings on reality, She had found jewelry and clothes, Bringing memories long forgotten.

Cuts had run up her mother's arms.

The shadow of insanity engulfed, Her. She couldn’t go on alone.

She became a broken child.

It started with the change of season.

Drew Pollock

--------------Rosie Alone in a room filled with the aroma of her growing sadness, Rosie in fast movements wrote her feelings into her journal. This has become the only routine that gives Rosie a sense of justice the past few months. Stuck in a world where she felt she had no control, where she felt trapped in a cave, a cave of expectations that her family, friends, and teachers piled up on her. She could see the envy right through their green, greedy eyes. They only ever cared about money. They wanted what Rosie had but couldn’t afford such a luxurious life, or what seemed like a luxurious life.

The expensive mansion may seem like a dream from the outside, the place all of Rosie’s friends and neighbors dreamed of having. But for Rosie, the mansion felt only like a suffocating prison she wished to escape. Escape the pressure her father put on her to appear perfect.

“Why aren’t you studying?” Rosie’s father’s voice snapped her back to reality. Right, she should study for her exam tomorrow.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I was ju-” before Rosie could finish, her father cut her off.

“Well, get on it,” he said before slamming the door. Rosie sighs and gets out her textbook to study.

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The next day, walking through the school hallways, Rosie noticed the comments students carelessly make. “Do you think Rosie will rank first?”

“Of course she will, she always does” Rankings, the object that carries her perfect reputation. Rosie only desires to place first in this school, proving to everyone her perfectness. She has always ranked first, this time, no one expects any less of her.

Along with Rosie, all of the students walked into class, sitting down at their desk waiting for the bell to ring and class to start.

Though having taken exams countless times, Rosie still felt anxious before each one. Tapping her pen on the desk, with the same phrase running through her head repeatedly, “rank 1.” This has become an unplanned ritual for Rosie before every exam.

After the bell rang and the teacher had come in, the students settled down, waiting for the teacher's instructions.

“As everyone may know, we have a big test today. I hope everyone studied hard last night,” the teacher said, making the students even more nervous than before.

Mark, the only one in the classroom who looked even a little calm. Or what Rosie refers to him as “Rank 2.”

Mark has always ranked behind Rosie, and she intends to keep it that way.

Before Rosie knew it, the exam had already begun. The sheets of paper already spread around the classroom and all students sat silently. The loud air conditioning vent on the ceiling seemingly louder than before and the pen taps against the hardwood tables as students think to work out the problems on the paper.

Two hours flew by fast for the students, and the exam had already finished. Some had finished a while ago and others couldn’t fill out every question before the time went off.

Rosie sat there looking at her answer sheet, confident in her answers. Well, why wouldn’t she feel confident? For the last two hours, she only focused on getting every question correct.

For the next 30 minutes, students stay in the classroom waiting for the teacher to post the score.

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Long awaited, the teacher finished posting the scores in the hallways. Immediately after, the students rushed out of their seats, heading to the large white paper in the hallway.

Rosie got there quick before the rest could. She quickly searched for her name, ‘Rosie Lyn’ After finding her name, her heart dropped. Next to her name displayed, “Rank 2.” She had ranked second. Not first, not best.

Above her name read, ‘Mark Johnson’ For the first time, Mark has beat Rosie and ranked higher.

“Is this a dream- no a nightmare,” Rosie thought. She could hear the gasp and words of shock from the other students already. She felt humiliated. “How is Rosie not first?” “Wow maybe Mark is smarter.” The other students comment.

Rosie couldn’t handle this. She rushed to the empty classroom and searched for the journal in her backpack. After finding it she hurriedly sits down to write her feelings. Words of anger, sadness, disappointment and humiliation quickly and sloppily display onto the white sheets.

This journal holds all of Rosies thoughts and emotions, it has all of her hidden emotions and feelings that she has kept a secret for years. For years, Rosie wore a mask. A mask with a pretty smile that made everyone around her believe a perfect happy girl like her, never has worries.

Behind that mask lays an angry frustrated girl who just wanted to fit into the expectations others have of her.

Only Minutes after the bell rang dismissing the class. Rosie hurriedly packs up and leaves the classroom ignoring the pairs of eyes on her.

Rosie rushed out too quickly to realize that she had forgotten something important on her table.

Her journal.

Mark notices this and quickly picks it up and runs out of the classroom to find Rosie. however he notices the tear marks on the hardcover of the book and becomes curious. Mark opens the journal to the latest written page and reads it. he fell shocked. Immediately after, Mark starts sprinting down the hallway and outside the school building to find Rosie.

She found Rosie walking in the rain trying to get home. Due to her short legs and slow pace, she hadn't gone far from the school. It drizzled rain, signaling an oncoming storm.

The raindrops delicately hit her rosy cheeks and slowly dampened her hair. Though the rain, calm and peaceful, Rosie can feel the harsh storm that's about to come.

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“Hey! Rosie!"a voice startled her.

Rosie turns around towards the voice and sees Mark running towards her with a familiar object in his hand.

"Why do you have that?!" Rosie yelled out.

"Does that really matter right now?” Mark replied, “is this how you have been feeling this whole time?”

The rain started falling faster than before.

“I…” Rosie didn’t know what to say Mark sighs, “how could you keep this a secret? Did you plan to keep this to yourself forever? To continue suffering forever?”

Rosie felt lost of words. It felt as if someone pulled off her mask revealing her true self, her true emotions. Under that mask laid her journal, and someone had pulled it off.

“What else can I do? Tell everyone that i’m not perfect? That I can’t fit into their expectations and be their perfect little rich girl?” Rosie yells out vulnerably, “...how could I ever do that?” her voice getting smaller.

It’s now pouring rain.

“Yes, that’s it. You don’t have to be perfect, you don't have to meet everyone’s expectations,’ Mark continues. “Tell me when you last felt happy.”

Silence.

Rosie didn’t respond.

“Exactly. You aren’t happy” “Just…” Rosie ignores his statement, “...give me back my journal” she says before snatching the journal from his hands and turns around to continue walking in the now harsh rainstorm.

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“Just please think about what I said!” Mark shouts. Rosie didn’t turn around and kept on walking home, ignoring him.

Rosie had walked for about 10 minutes, her plaid uniform already drenched in rain. As much as she tried to ignore Mark's words, she couldn't help but to replay them constantly in her head, "You don't have to be perfect, you don't have to meet everyone's expectations.”

Once having reached her home, she took a deep breath before entering. Rosie opens the large mansion doors to reveal the angry eyes of her father.

"Why did I get informed you ranked second today? Rosie's father yells.

"I..." Rosie felt nervous, not knowing what to say.

“Didn’t I tell you to study? Why didn’t you study harder? Look at where it got you.’

At that moment, Mark’s words played in her head, “You don’t have to be perfect, you don't have to meet anyone’s expectations.”

“You know what? No!” Rosie finally works up the courage to confront her father.

“I don't need to be ranked first for you.” She says sternly. “I don’t need to constantly be perfect because that’s what you want me to be. I don’t need to constantly be the ‘perfect’ character you wish me to be.”

“Why are you talking to be like thi-” “I deserve to be happy!”

Before he could continue, Rosie rushed up the stairs to her room, slamming the door.

Rosie quickly locked her door and threw her belongings on the ground. She screamed and tears began falling out of her eyes at a fast pace. Everything that she kept hidden in her journal has come to the surface and she couldn't control her tears. The pain has become unbearable.

After a few minutes, Rosie collected herself and laid on her bed, tightly clutching her journal close to her chest. She kept thinking back to what Mark had said. Rosie stared blankly at her ceiling with Mark's words running through her mind.

Meanwhile, Rosie's father stood there frozen. Rosie has never snapped at him like that before.

Her words lingered in his mind and he began feeling guilty.

"Is that how she's been feeling all this time," He whispered to himself.

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After thinking for a few hours, Rosie's father decided to talk to Rosie. He slowly made his way up to his daughters room and softly knocked on the door. He heard muffled shuffling on the other side of the door. The door then opened, revealing Rosie. She stood there with her hair messy, clothes wrinkled, and her cheek stained with tears, she looked like a mess. Rosie's father teared up looking at his daughter.

"I did this to her,” he thought.

"Let's go talk in the living room,” Rosie's father said. She nodded and followed in downstairs.

They sat down on the white leather couch and stayed in an awkward silence.

"It's okay,” Rosie quietly whispered, "you just wanted the best for me."

"I want you to live your life however you want from now on Rosie," her father stated, "you don't have to be perfect nor be ranked 1 anymore. I just want you to be happy."

Rosie's eyes widen upon hearing these words. The cave began opening, the exit coming into sight. She then jumped into her father's arms, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you,” her voice slightly cracked.

“Of course, let's head to bed now alright?"

The father and daughter head to their rooms and fall asleep.

The next morning, immediately upon waking up, flashbacks from the night before flashed in her mind. She smiles at the thought of acting like herself, then gets out of bed to get ready. After putting on her plaid uniform and cleaning herself up, Rosie runs downstairs and says goodbye to her father. She stared at the door of her mansion. Once she opens this door, she will fully escape from the prison she's felt trapped in for years.

Rosie then opens the door, and walks to school. Or rather, walk to her first day as Rosie.

Yen Nhi Pham Nguyen --------------I Walk Into My Life With Confusion (Sonnet) I walk into my life with confusion.

While every other soul walks in with pride.

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My mind wanders like a forced illusion, And all the other minds just tend to glide.

The world around me starts to sink like sand, and others leave me on the ground below.

I ask myself why life can't go as planned.

But my answer replies all rather slow.

I wonder why I haven't learned to fly, And why I am stuck on my boring feet.

When I think, responses are just a sigh, why can't I have the life that's always sweet?

But this life isn't always filled with bad, Sometimes it can even make me feel glad.

Jillian Collins

--------------Icon Lights shone bright on his face, where it would stay The crowd then had started to cheer and grin, He got onto the stage, starting to play, He could feel the cold air touching his skin, He felt the stars, even as he can't see He sang his heart out on the stage that night And as he sang, he started to feel free And he thought that his life became alright He felt lonely only when it all ends He felt like his life had no more meaning He felt happy when others seemed happy Due to that, his attitude needed cleaning What can he say though, all his fans love him Even thought his life felt really grim Jo Shelton

--------------Red I woke up on a gloomy, cloudy morning. It continued to drizzle outside, but I had to go get mail. I put on some shoes and a jacket and went out the door. Right as I stepped outside, cold raindrops hit my head. I looked down and saw a box with no name or address on it.

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“I wasn’t expecting anything.” I said, confused. I took the box inside and set it on the counter. I didn’t open it immediately, because I felt nervous. Instead, I ate an apple. While I ate the red, crisp apple, I called some of my friends and family to ask if they sent anything for me.

I called around ten friends and family members and they all said they didn’t send anything.

My hands started shaking and it felt so hot in my house. “What if there's an animal?” “What if it’s something dangerous?’ My mind started to flood with concerns.

About an hour later, I decided to open the box. I did so very carefully. I cut open the box, and to my surprise, there sat a large bouquet of fiery red roses. I smiled because I liked them and the colour looked so pretty. The roses also came with a note. It read “ you know me, but from a long time ago.” Meet me at the ocean's edge at 3:05 pm.”

The time read 2:37. I felt even more scared than before. I thought “I did not know this person, so why should I meet them?”

After much thinking and contemplating, I decided to meet this person.

As I got ready, I realised that this could turn out as a trap. I did not know this person, but even more, why did they send me roses? I decided to continue getting ready and soon after. I could see the ocean from the huge windows of my penthouse so I had no reason to rush, but I felt so nervous. My stomach felt so bubbly and my hands started to sweat. Before I left I decided to hang the roses. So I took an old, thin, tan rope and tied the roses at the end of the thorny stems.

I then hung them upside down in my kitchen for decoration.

Then I left.

As I started approaching the vast, blue ocean, I started to sweat. I felt scared at this point. I arrived at the ocean at 3:04 and waited at the water’s edge. I heard footsteps approaching from behind me so I turned around.

To my surprise, I see a tall, slender man. He had soft looking, black hair that covered his eyes. I didn’t recognize him at first but when he moved his hair a bit I knew. He turned out to be my roommate from college! We used to stay close as friends but when we graduated, we parted ways. I felt so happy to see him and all the fear left my body.

I asked him why he came here and he said he wanted to live here, in this city, but he had nowhere to live quite yet. I let him stay at my house. We became roommates once again.

Later that day we hung out some in my house but some thoughts lingered in the back of my mind. “Why didn’t he just say his identity in the note?” “Why did the time have to happen at that time?’ I didn’t want to overthink and I felt too scared to ask. I just let go of the questions. After I got ready to go to sleep, I realised that I overreacted. We went to college together, we used to share a room in college. I felt scared for nothing. So I just let go and went to sleep. I don’t know

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how long I slept, but I woke up to the sound of my door creaking, a red eye peering against the darkness.

Amara Greene

--------------Flowers So pure and Beautiful Flowers have an unexplained Simplicity Fragile and Joyful Its richness and Delicacy Flowers so Wild and Lively Buds Sweet and Timid Blooming so Frail and Lovely Bright and Vivid So Gentle and Modest Flower so Kind and Precious So Colorful in August And Joy Infectious Yet so Dead As they lay by the bed Ana Haro

--------------Darius Williams Darius Williams stood unnatural. From the age of nine, he took part in college-level neuroscience courses. He could understand the human psyche better than any other.

After graduating from Yale at fourteen, the United States government did not hesitate to show their interest. Multiple agents, in sleek black suits and ties, would knock on the door, and each week Darius’ mother greeted them with cookies and coffee. Darius had interviews so frequently, he could say with certainty that the agents knew him more than his mother. The day of his eighteenth birthday, the agents once again returned.

“Mr. Williams?” one of them articulated.

Darius’ mother nodded, then yelled for Darius to come to the door. The men motioned for him to follow them. Darius’ mother shut the door and they escorted him away, and that subsided.

The agents brought him to an airstrip, and then he looked up and saw it. He gazed at it in awe, a polished white plane with a black stripe outlined in gold running

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through the middle of the fuselage. Darius walked up the stairs dumbfounded, and whilst he boarded the plane he felt sick with dizziness. His admiration only became greater, as a beautiful flight attendant handed him a five page menu, filled with any meal he could ever want. He flew in silence, and he stared out the huge glass window for most of it. He could not see anything, as the endless sea of white clouds blocked his vision. Despite this, he knew exactly where he was going.

Darius departed the plane in Langley more comfortable than ever. Unusually, the dark-gray stone buildings greeted him as if he had discovered the gate to heaven. As he entered the headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency, he immediately felt the cold air from the A/C blow on to his arms. The hallways seemed to never end as he walked down them, and he kept his head fixed on the black tile. Darius entered the director’s office, and sat down in the pre-placed leather chair. The director talked for an hour, showing him the ins and outs of the agency. He mentioned the field Darius would take part in, “intelligence gathering,” very speedily. As Darius opened the door to exit, the director spat out, “oh Mr. Williams, don’t forget, knowledge is power!”

Darius left the meeting room more confused than oriented, but almost immediately the agent directed him to his first task. An agent directed him to a small military barrack. The outer walls displayed a powerful black color, and a steel sign above the door displayed “Memorial Institute Alpha.” He then looked to his right, and saw row after row of this exact barrack. The agent pushed him through the door, and Darius froze frightened to see a man strapped to a chair. Darius understood his mission, and he desperately attempted to use every method he had ever learned to extract information. To his surprise, the man’s lips would not budge. The agent came up next to Darius’ ear.

“You know Mr. Williams, we have much more efficient ways of doing this,” he whispered

Darius had not a speck of naivete inside him, he knew exactly what the agent meant. He turned away from the chair to think for a moment, somehow standing frantically. His eyes began to dart, his emotions becoming more and more apparent to everyone in the room. “Come on!” his voice cracked as he shouted frightendly.

“Please, remain calm Mr. Williams, for the sake of your job,” the agent smirked as those words came out of his mouth.

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Darius continued to talk with the man, but his attempts only lengthened a pointless process. His outburst showed the man who truly had all the power in the room.

“Mr. Williams, I implore you to hurry this up,” the agent declared, his sternness shocked Darius.

The agent handed him a taser with the label “high voltage.” Darius stood with his feet planted, his eyes darting from the man to the taser. He knew what he must do, and he knew the CIA groomed him to do this from a young age. He clenched his eyes shut, and shoved the taser into the man's neck. Darius partially opened his eyes, and he saw the man’s muscles tense in his seat. The agent grinned as the man spat out all which the agency wanted.

“Haha, good job rookie, same time tomorrow,” the agent shouted as he stepped out the door.

Darius stood with a blank expression, thinking about the laugh the agent gave him, how it made him shudder.

For a month, the agent continued to attend the interrogations and force Darius to extract all information at all costs. Some subjects live as criminals, some rest innocent, but it did not matter to the agency. The undisputed importance of information had prevailed in Darius’ brain. Once the agent left Darius to his own devices, he pondered returning to his tried peaceful methods of extraction. However, even he had to admit that the methods shown by the agent proved much quicker, his payment proved most effective in silencing any of his concerns. After all, what did the other agents do during their interrogations? By using the taser, he had humanity left in him, right? With these thoughts in mind, Darius firmly made his decision. Due to his intelligence and value, the agency agreed to give Darius whatever he required to fulfill his mission. Despite this, he continued to choose the same taser he used his first day. Usually he only needed ten minutes in the barrack, he would simply walk in and taze. Darius usually had inflicted so much misery upon them, they would comply with all of what he said. However, one day a man sat silently, astonishingly stubborn. Darius tazed him once, and he sat with his lips shut. Once more, and no response. Darius, filled with fury, smashed the taser into the man's abdomen and held it. The lights in the barrack flickered, and once he had recovered from his outrage Darius let go of the weapon. The man slumped down, unresponsive, and Darius knew what he had done. This only made him more irate, he knew he had failed. He persuaded himself that his lack of power caused him to fail.

Darius believed they all viewed him as weak, and they all laughed at his comically low

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level of knowledge. He vowed to never let others leave him in the dark again, because after all, “knowledge is power.”

Darius sat down and manufactured a veil intensely psychotic, a steel baton studded with spikes and wrapped in exposed wiring. Additionally, he crafted a headgear that held his eyelids and lips up, so that he could watch and see, always. He laughed at the genius of his creation and knew this would never let him fail again. He stomped into the barrack the next day, and immediately the lights flickered as if they panicked. He stepped towards his newest subject and the circuit breaker outside exploded as burnt wiring hung outside the box. Darius guided himself with the sparks of his baton, and struck the man with as much force as he could. Silence filled the room, but soon enough Darius’ deafening laughter replaced it, and he sprinted out the door of the barracks. He ran to the outer limits of Langley, and stood on the edge of a forest. The area persisted with fogginess, and Darius could barely see past the first tree, but he knew exactly where he was going.

Cam Sasser --------------Bruno Says Good-bye On a drizzly morning day, Bruno said good-bye to his mother and left for school. As he walked on the pavement, he could see the soldiers. Most days he would see two or three every other block, and no matter what the weather, they never moved. They could stand still in any situation, their white masks were perfect.

The soldiers' uniforms covered their body from head to toe with long dark grey trench coats. They wore black boots that came to their knees. Bruno always admired them for having so much discipline.

Today seemed different from other days. The soldiers started searching the car. In the rain, their eye holes seemed to glow blue. These soldiers wore orange with the numbers “05”.

Bruno watched as they dragged a man out of the car and started to beat him with their shock batons. The buzz from the batons, the only sound Bruno could hear. The man had brown hair, but he covered his face with his hands, so Bruno could not make out the figure, but he knew it must be criminal and when the soldiers got done, the man would be transported to another city where all the criminals would be taken.

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The whole time the soldiers beat him, Bruno did not hear a single sound from the man.

One of the soldiers looked up at Bruno, and he ducked his head and walked faster down the street. Bruno knew he would not interfere with soldier business. They all knew that, because the soldiers kept the city safe, and criminals got taken away.

The school was located next to the long wall that circled the entire city of Alxy.

The wall was made out of black concrete, flawless and as high as a two-story house.

On the other side of the wall trees grew very tall and so dense that Bruno could not see beyond their dark thickness. When he got to school he saw his friend Jimmy.

“How is it going, Bruno?” called Jimmy Bruno told Jimmy about the incident with the man and the car. “It was strange to see them finally doing something other than just standing.”

“Wow, that’s weird!” exclaimed Jimmy.

On most days after school, Bruno worked at the factory two blocks down. He knew he needed to get his daily rations to his family from the dispenser, and he could only do that if he reported to work. At work he assigned to hammer and forge weapon parts. At the end of his four hour shift he received his family's rations from the food dispenser, but his father’s rations went missing. This has happened before, and Bruno would have to file a claim for it later.

As Bruno walked back to his apartment, he looked for the soldiers and the man, but they disappeared. The man’s car was still there, and Bruno could not help himself. He went to look and noticed the door unlocked. Bruno looked inside, and found a folded piece of paper underneath a seat. He put the paper in his pocket and went back to his apartment. His mother waiting, and she cried.

“What is the matter, Mother? Where is dad?”

“Bruno, they told me your dad in an accident and died.” she said.

Bruno was shocked and could not respond. Silent, he went up to hisroom and shut the door. He pulled out the paper from the car and looked at it without seeing it for a long time. Finally, Bruno’s eyes came into focus on the paper and he looked closer. The paper appeared to have a map of the city and all of the boundaries.

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There was a circle around one section of the boundary and the word “ Hole ” scribbled.

Bruno sat, thinking about the map and his father.

After curfew, Bruno snuck out of his apartment with the map and headed to the hole in the barrier. He saw guards patrolling the empty streets and avoided them.

Worried he might be caught, he ducked his head and ran to the nearest ally. He peaked out of the alley and saw the guards disappear. In the alley Bruno found the small hole in the barrier next to two small drills left behind. Without a second thought, Bruno walked through the hole into the black forest.

As Bruno walked in the forest he could feel the crunch of the pine needles on his feet.

Bruno walked for some time and noticed dawn approaching.

Lights emerged as if coming out of the ground in the distance, as the morning sun rose.

Sections of the dark forest floor became visible. Deeper into the forest, Bruno suddenly stumbled upon a hard metal object sticking out of the ground. Bruno knelt down and saw two skulls but made of metal, with white pieces of cloth ripped around them, and wires torn from their eye sockets, neck area, and arms.

The rest of the bodies- were covered by leaves. Bruno swept off the debris and discovered the skulls attached to metal bodies. They had clothes on them. They had trench coats on and the legs covered by black boots. Bruno looked even closer at the arms. They had orange armbands around the sleeves with the number “05”.

Bruno astonished as he finally understood these look like the same soldiers beating the man in the car. There was an arrest warrant on the ground next to the bodies, and his father’s name on it.

“Bruno, look up.” Bruno dropped the arrest warrant, startled. He looked up in the trees and saw his father sitting on a branch and smiling at his son.

“Let’s go get your mother.”

Alex Jessen --------------Sun and the Moon Sun, brightly shining Bringing warmth to all the world P E E R2 0 2 1

Making humans smile

Moon, dark yet glowy Shining in the dead of night Bringing hope to all Francesca Torrisi --------------Sundown (Rainbow Poem) The fire started, heating up our marshmallows They love watching the sun go down amongst their family Pretty fireflies glowing past them The grass is short a few prickles here and there The rips in their denim allow the cold breeze to engulf them Baptisia australis scattered around and standing tall Grandmas enjoying her plum as the sky lights up Saniya Epps --------------Twilight (Rainbow Poem) Garnet hues fill the dimming sky Fire seems to fill the air as warm breezes pass The sun’s blonde flash disappears as it sinks into the edge of land The breath of air flows through basil tinted grass The once lapis water slowly alters to a deep denim The once lively sky starts to sleep, darkening to salvia flower hue Finally, she dreams, planting pansy flowers in her path AnnaMaria Miranda ---------------

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The Rabbits & The Moon (Short Snippet) Prologue “Legend has it that the moss grows on the North side of trees. Well, legend has it when the rain comes down, all the worms come up to breath. Well, legend has it when the sun beams down, all the plants, they eat them with their leaves. Well, legend has it that the world spins round on an axis of 23 degrees… but have you heard the story of the Rabbit In The Moon?”

A folklore known by one name has many different faces, those faces representing the different versions told under this same name. The folklore of the Rabbit in the Moon has a slightly or very different alteration depending on the culture from where the story came.

These folklores of different cultures play a big part of what makes our characters themselves, some a little more literal than others, but this will start our stories… this story will tell what started it all.

Chapter One: Escape from the Palace “...These legends, myths, folklores, and stories created what we now see and own as our civilization. Every time a human on Earth tells one of these stories, another one of us is born to a family of the same origin of stories.

These humans that you’ve heard Xi o Kèbó ă talk down about so much, really allow us to exist with their stories. In return for this act, our ancestors built the landmarks they love so much like the pyramids, the Stonehenges, the Moai, and many others. Each has a close resemblance to our artifacts that your family, the royal family, controls and protects.” Huī said then turned to look at his young student,Princess Pàxiú who had fallen asleep halfway through his lecture.

Shutting the journal loudly after turning to look in front of him again, Pàxiú fell backward in surprise, but caught herself and straightened up quickly as Huī looked back at her. “I’m assuming you had already known all this information Princess?” He asked and Pàxiú nodded with a poorly hidden confused expression making Huī sigh before handing her his journal.

“I see Empress Mín Jin has put you back on another tight and highly overworked schedule.” Huī said and Pàxiú nodded then muttered, “I can barely walk because of all the running around she has me doing.”

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“For a rabbit given a name meaning ‘timid and shy’ you sure do like speaking your mind, don’t you?” Huī commented and Pàxiú slightly flinched then smiled a bit embarrassed, “You heard that?” He gave her a look making her laugh a little nervously before they both stood up and walked out of the study to the palace gardens.

“So what about your sisters? Has your Mother had them really busy lately?” Huī asked and Pàxiú sorta looked at her feet as she spoke. “Bóxué Nà has sorta become my Mother’s apprentice, following her around the palace to learn more about what she needs to do once she takes rule,” Pàxiú said with sorta of a soothing tone as she calmed down from her busy schedule some, “Lan An and Qiang Níng have told to finish up the last of preparations for the suitors when they arrive. I’ve just gotten more classes to stay busy and out of the way a bit.”

Huī gave her a sympathetic look and looked up at the stars then added, “You also have to become used to a busy schedule. It ended up longer than we thought since Empress Mín Jin had a youngest, so she really just has to get back into the swing of teaching a youngest daughter all over again.” Pàxiú looked up at him then looked ahead as she thought about before sighing, “I never thought of my sisters actually seeming that older than me. I guess I just feel a bit off-balance without my Father, the only other one here with a mix folklore.”

Huī nodded his head in understanding then looked at the young princess and asked to see her schedule.

“Given the fact that you should’ve stopped some of those other classes that we agreed you didn’t need, it shouldn’t… Pàxiú…” Huī said as he looked over the schedule and she got an embarrassed and guilty look as she looked to the side. “I just thought I could… improve… my Spanish and Korean… and Japanese… and Latin…” She started, saying it quietly while Huī shook his head as he handed her back the schedule.

“I swear to the gods, you work too much.”

Huī mumbled and Pàxiú gave him a narrow eyed look then scoffed, “So much for you to criticize me. Your schedule is probably just as packed as mine is Huī Sai, I know of your problem and it can just as bad as mine.”

He rolled his eyes then admitted, “Yes, fine. I can get fairly busy, but your lessons have become last in my list so I’m able to spend extra time helping you.”

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Pàxiú smiled then gave him a hug, Hu looking down at the short rabbit with a smile before patting her head. “Your ears. They look crooked again my dear.” Hu pointed out and Pàxiú backed away and looked up at the chocolate colored rabbit ears with lemon and honey colored patches covering the left, which her ears matched her hair.

Hu bent down some and carefully fixed her ears so they both would sit up straight, but gave up on the left one, which seemed determined to stay folded over halfway. “Well…

I’ve done the best I can get… hope Empress Mín Jin won’t mind too much when we go to vist her.” Hu said and Pàxiú gave him a thankful smile then straightened up and they walked side-by-side to the throne room where Empress Mín Jin normally waited for them.

As they walked, Hu noticed that more guards had started walking around the palace than normal and had a sinking feeling as they approached the throne room. Just as they got ready to enter, Hu stopped Pàxiú and led her to his personal study, close to the throne room.

“Where- Hu Sai. The throne room is the other way.” Pàxiú said in confusion and he hushed her then shut the door once they got into the room.

“Princess Pàxiú B ăo. I believe a danger has fallen upon the kingdom and it has gotten into palace walls. I need for you to cooperate and listen to my instruction.” Hu instructed and Pàxiú nodded, becoming serious when he addressed her by her full title, which he rarely did.

Following his lead, Pàxiú followed as he led her out of the room and they made their way to the entrance of the palace walls. As they passed the throne room doors, which had now opened, Pàxiú stopped for a second to look inside and it pulled her attention off course as she watched her Mother and sisters as guards forced them away from the throne and toward the dungeons.

“Mother? Mother!” Pàxiú called continuing to go off course and Hu immediately stopped her from turning back too far, both stopping to see Xi ăo Kèbó sitting on the throne.

“Guards! Get them!” He snapped and the two immediately raced toward the gates, Hu ī leading Pàxiú to the gate and through the town after they slipped past the guards.

“Hu Sai! Where in the gods’ name have you taken us!?” Pàxiú called after he let go of her, the two now reaching a empty stretch of moon. “Princess. Listen to my instructions and you won’t found by Xi o Kèbó,” he said, the two stopping to hide in a crater to buy

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time while the guards slowly caught up, “Don’t take this necklace. You’ll need these to breath the air on Earth. Find a place to hide as soon as you can and use the earrings your Mother gave to you so you can hide your ears and tail to fit in with the humans. I promise that when the Moon is safe, I will come to get you.”

Pàxiú nodded, not really processing what he said, but looked around in panic then paused when he hugged her. “Stay safe. The future of the throne relies on you surviving and hiding from Xi o Kèbó and his minions.” Hu whispered and just before she could say anything, he blew some dim glowing moon dust at her, making the dust around them swirl into a windstorm before disappearing as the guards closed in and brought Hu back to the palace.

Pàxiú swatted at the dust and coughed as she tried to breath through it before slowly opening her eyes to look around when she realized it had disappeared. Her eyes closed again as she fell through Earth’s atmosphere, looking like a shooting star as she flew across the sky, landing near a bakery in Himeji, Japan.

Kyleagh Peralta --------------The Wizard of Oz A wizard a wizard a wizard I say A wise and scary creature with whom to play Poor Dorothy just needs to get home The tin man just wants an heart The lion wants bravery and Scarecrow wants a brain We all want something we don't have why not make the best of what we got Abigail Haile --------------Shack Birds sang in chorus as the light of dawn seeped into the miniscule shack. The old man lay in bed, starting to wake. He rubbed his bleary eyes with annoyance. “It’s too early,” he grumbled. After a few minutes of mumbling insults and glaring at the window, he got out of bed and made his way to the other side of the cramped room, stumbling along the way, where he found his cane. The old man decided to go into town and pick up a few ingredients for meals this week, which meant he would have to get dressed.

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Unfortunately, his room so cluttered that he couldn’t see the floor and his clothes buried in the filth. He crouched down and started to dig through the items on the floor. Thirty minutes went by before he found his baggy blue jeans and favorite red t-shirt. As he picked up the red t-shirt he thought to himself, she loved this shirt on me. It still hurt to think about his family after the big fight, he missed them dearly.

He got dressed as fast as he could, taking breaks to regain his balance. Dressed at last, he made his way to the front door. He exited the house, and a butterfly landed on his arm, this happened regularly. And although it felt silly, whenever it happened he felt like his wife looked out for him. He made his way to where his rusted old pickup truck waited for him on the gravel driveway. He climbed into the truck with minimal difficulty and put his cane in the passenger seat. The drive into town took about 40 minutes, so he didn’t go often. He arrived at the general store at the perfect time, seeing as it looked empty inside. He took the keys out of the ignition, grabbed his cane, and stepped out of the car. Making sure to lock the truck, the old man went into the store.

The cashier greeted him with a simple “Good morning!”, the old man replied with a disdainful “mhm”. After picking out his ingredients and putting them in his basket, he went to check out. The cashier clearly struggled to make conversation with the standoffish old man, so she finished scanning the items and gave him the receipt.

“Have a nice day!” said the cashier as the man left.

Just as the man got into the truck he got a phone call, he looked for his small cell phone and found it under the passenger seat. While looking at the phone, he could see that it said an unknown number. Instead of just ignoring it like he usually did, he felt the sudden urge to answer the caller. He clicked the answer icon and said “Hello?”

“Grandpa? Is that you?” a small voice asked “Owen?” the old man exclaimed “Are you coming to see us soon?” said the boy “Soon buddy, I’m working on it” “I miss you so much” “I know, I miss you too. I have to go but we’ll talk soon”

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“Bye grandpa” “Bye” The old man felt relieved to hear from his grandson after so long. He knew that if he tried to reach out to his family they would just ignore him. In fact, he really hoped that Owen didn’t mention them talking at all. He tried to stop thinking about his past mistakes and move on, but it seemed hard to change his actions when the people he loved hated him. After a few minutes of thinking about his situation, he started his truck and drove home.

The drive home took a little over an hour, due to the afternoon traffic. He parked the truck and picked up the groceries, heading inside. Just as he closed and locked the front door, it started to pour. Perfect timing the old man thought to himself. He looked out the window for a few short minutes before putting away his food. He opened one of the small cabinets and placed a few spices on the shelf. Then he proceeded to reorganize his fridge so he could access all areas of it. Once he stopped moving the thoughts came rushing back. I miss them so much. I haven’t seen my grandson in such a long time. What does my daughter think of me now? Would she even want to see me?

He stumbled over to his recliner near the window, tripping over an object on the way.

The old man sat down and looked for what he tripped over.

His eyes darted around the floor, finding the small rectangular object that made him fall.

He picked it up and his eyes immediately welled with tears. A picture of his late wife, Eileen. She wore her favorite green blouse and had a loving smile plastered on her face.

“I love you” the man whispered.

The old man sat there for hours, just thinking about the happy memories he shared with Eileen. Five years had gone by since she passed and it hadn’t gotten any easier to go on without her. At this moment he decided to redeem himself. He knew it would make his wife sad to see the current state of their family. I’m going to fix this, he thought. He looked around for some paper to write on and found a small notebook and pencil on the rickety end table.

He started to write out a list. It had the words ‘to do’ at the top in messy handwriting. A list slowly started to grow while the man thought of ways to win his daughter back. He felt determined to redeem himself after a rough few years. After he composed a list he felt happy with, he gazed out the window and the downpour turned to a light drizzle. It

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seemed almost as if the skies had stopped crying and felt relieved that the old man changed.

He picked up his cell phone and suddenly became nervous. Should I do this he wondered. He just needed to let go of his worries and call his daughter. With his hands shaking slightly, he dialed the phone number he grandson had last called from. It rang two times before it picked it up.

“Hello” a deep voice answered” The old man panicked and paused, not recognizing this new voice. “Hello?” the voice started getting impatient “Sorry, I must not have the right number” the old man muttered “Does Jenna live still live there?” the man asked hopefully “She does, who’s asking?” the deep voice asked “I’m her father” “O-oh, I’ll go get her” Less than a minute went by before she came back to the phone. “Dad?” the same sweet voice that he heard many years ago “Jenna!” the man exclaimed “Why are you calling here, we haven’t spoken in years” she questioned “I needed to talk to you. I’m so sorry about what happened in the past, and I’ve changed. I just want to see you again sweetheart.”

“I can’t see you” “What? Why? I can just drive over” “Dad, I don’t think you understand. You blamed me for mom’s death, left suddenly without telling anyone where you were going, and you just now decided after almost five years that you still want a relationship with us?”

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He could hear the pain in her voice and wanted to comfort her as he did before. “Honey, I’m so sorry. I know I hurt you in the past and I don’t want to do that anymore. I can’t bear the thought of losing you forever. Your mom would want us to be happy.”

“Look dad, I understand that you’ve had time to think about this, but this is a lot for me right now.

You can come over tomorrow afternoon to talk with me, I need to see that you’ve changed before I let you back into my life.”

“Okay, I understand. I’ll be there” “Bye, dad.”

“Bye Je-” He heard her hang up before he could even say goodbye. “I’m going to see my daughter” he whispered aloud. “I’m going to see my family!” he shouted this time. The old man felt ecstatic and couldn’t wait any longer. He decided to start making dinner to pass the time.

Grabbing his cane and walking to the kitchen, he took out the ingredients for spaghetti and a small salad. Barely thirty minutes later, he finished cooking and started to plate his food.

He sat down to eat, not realizing how fast he devouring the meal. The events from today replaced in his head, mainly the phone call with Jenna. He wondered what the house looks like, would it stay the same as when Eileen decorated it? Would he get to see his grandson tomorrow or not?

Who could the man on the phone be?

The busy day started to catch up with the old man, and his eyelids started to get heavy.

After picking up the dishes and washing them quickly, he went to his room to change into his most comfortable pajamas and then climbed into the bed. The sooner he fell asleep the better.

He felt so excited to see his family after years of not talking to any of them. Except for his grandson of course, who called him every now and then without his mother’s knowledge. His mind eventually calmed down, and he fell asleep.

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The old man woke up a little later than usual the next morning, probably because last night he had gotten a full night's sleep, the best sleep he’d had in a while. He got out of bed quickly, and tried to find some clothes quickly. His room still looked like a tornado came through it, but he managed to find a nice pair of khaki pants and a dark blue polo shirt. Just as he finished getting dressed, he remembered that he couldn’t drive over until the afternoon.

So he still had a few hours to kill before leaving. Not knowing what to do until then, he settled on making breakfast for now. He whipped up a few pancakes and some bacon.

He took his food out of the pan and placed it on a large, white plate. Before sitting down in the recliner, he grabbed the syrup and poured some all over the fluffy pancakes he made. A perfect day, the sun out and the ground no longer wet from the rain yesterday.

The sky completely clear, not a cloud in sight.

Indira Harrell --------------Sitting The girl sits alone Reading her book in the sun Thinking about life -Maddie Szerokman Blue The blue petunias just sat so gracefully in the wind As I was feeling sad and lonely A beautiful butterfly flew on my hand Daisha Contreras --------------Blue - A Narrative Tara stared out the window of the basement she hadn’t left for seven months, a strand of her shoulder-length hair falling into her face. She brushed the honey-colored hair away and looked up. Outside, the trees had lost all their leaves, with just their thin branches remaining. The trees destroyed any chance of seeing the sky because they

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had grown so tall. Tara could see bugs crawling over the trees’ thick, dark trunks, peeling with decay as the trees slowly withered away.

The walls in the basement matched the tree trunks, with the same brown color now faded to a diseased-looking gray. It peeled to reveal darker, dirtier paint underneath. As Tara looked around, she realized that the only splashes of color included the blankets in her bed, white with turquoise flowers, and the matching picture frames on the walls.

Even the clutter spread throughout the basement had the same dirty color, whether from dirt or dust. A pile of pieces of wood and metal took up half the room. Originally beds that looked more like cradles, they had become broken and useless, covered with rust and dirt. Tara looked away.

She moved slowly, carefully, across the room to the standard desk given to all the building’s occupants. Every room looked the same. The size, the shape, the color, and even the furniture all matched in each room. Every room looked identical except for the occupants of the rooms, and what color they chose to decorate their few belongings with. Tara only lived in the basement because the building had too many occupants. Too many needed to move in. They all needed help. She took a deep breath.

Most of the other occupants of the building had photographs in their frames. Photos of their families, places they had traveled or had wanted to go to. Pictures that made them happy.

Tara didn’t have any photographs on her walls. Instead, the teal frames contained papers filled with writing. Any of the building’s occupants could use the plain, off-white colored paper.

Tara had almost used up all of her paper. She had filled so many pages with her tight, rushed handwriting that she didn’t have enough frames to put them in. So she stacked them in piles on the desk. Eleven thick piles of papers sat on the desk, leaving only enough room on the desktop for Tara to put the papers on when she wrote. Tara looked out the window again. A small amount of light came through, the gray color that signified smoke outside. Tara shivered. She walked to her bed and lay down, pulling a blanket over herself. She instantly felt warmer, though only a little bit. Perhaps she had imagined it. Tara closed her eyes.

She stood in a forest, filled with trees so large that she couldn’t fit her arms around them. The trees blocked out the sunlight, and cast gloomy shadows over the ground.

Tara looked around, but she could only see trees and shadows. She started walking in

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one direction, hoping to find a way out of the darkness. Screaming for help, she asked if any person could hear her. But not a single person came.

Looking at the nearest tree, Tara realized that, just like the trees outside her window, the trunks of these trees swarmed with bugs. They crawled all over the tree trunks, and more and more kept coming. Tara felt herself panic, and she started to run. She tried to go back the way she had come, but every tree and every shadow looked the same.

Feeling completely lost, she felt herself getting tired from the running and screaming.

Tara leaned against the tree nearest to her, feeling lightheaded. Her arms and legs felt weak. She couldn’t support herself any longer, and she felt so alone, that her eyes closed....

Tara woke up tangled in the blankets of her bed. Her breaths came shallow and quick, and her heart raced. She started shaking, and she felt dizzy. Looking at the desk, she stood up quickly, suddenly. She crossed the basement and yanked the drawer open. It only held three pens.

The first looked well-worn, with a faded label and no ink. One looked slightly used, and the other looked brand new. All three pens wrote in teal colored ink, the color of the sky on a bright summer’s day. Tara took the second pen and put it on top of the desk. She then looked around frantically and couldn’t see any sheets of paper. Tara realized that she had used up all the paper given to her.

She sat down, still on edge, and thought for a moment. Tara hadn’t had a visitor to her room today, and she didn’t know the next time a person would come downstairs. She stood up shakily and looked towards the stairs. Her choices included either leaving the basement and trying to find some more paper, or waiting to see if a person came in to check on her.

Tara walked towards the bed and sat down, thinking about what she should do. The bed, though medium sized, resembled a cradle more than a bed, except it didn’t rock.

Rails stood all around the bed, and a small space opened on one side where she got in and out of the bed. Normally the bars around her made Tara feel safe, but now she felt restless. She stood up again and walked hesitantly towards the stairs. Looking back at her bed, Tara made a decision.

Tara walked up the stairs. It took her a couple tries to step up sometimes, but eventually she got the hang of it. She walked slowly up and then saw a door at the top of the staircase. Tara opened the door and walked out into a hallway. The hallway had the

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same shade of brown paint as the basement walls, except the paint in the hallway didn’t peel. Tara stopped to catch her breath after the stairs, then started down the hallway.

She walked for what felt like forever, until she came to an intersection where her hallway met another. Tara saw a door ahead of her, at the end of the hallway. Through the door she caught a glimpse of the sky, the most brilliant blue, with only a few wisps of clouds.

It gave her a glimmer of hope, hope that she might escape the building once and for all.

Tara imagined going outside, laying on the ground and looking up at that bright blue sky until she had seen her fill.

She took a step towards the door. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps interrupted her daydream. She looked down the other hallway and saw a woman coming towards her.

The woman quickened her pace, and quickly reached Tara. She shook her head in a disapproving sort of way, and led Tara back down the hallway that went to the basement.

As they got further down the hallway, Tara found herself leaning more and more against the woman. When they got to the stairs it took several tries for Tara to get down each step. Her legs felt shaky, and she felt exhausted. Finally, after an excruciatingly long time, Tara reached her bed and sat down. The woman held her fingers to Tara’s wrist for a few moments, and then a masked expression came over her face. Finally, the nurse stood up, took a long look at Tara’s face, and then turned away. Tara made a noise deep in her throat, as if asking the woman not to go. But the woman either didn’t hear her, or ignored it, because she walked back up the stairs and shut the door behind her. Tara stood up shakily and walked over to the desk. She grabbed a paper from the top of one of the piles, and read what she had written.

Most of the occupants of the building had photographs of what they wanted to do when they left. Tara wrote about what she wanted to do. She wrote about a place far away, a land filled with sand; about one day traveling to a city where lights stayed lit up all night long. Tara wrote about mountains, about oceans, lakes, and beaches. She wrote about animals she had heard of, sunrises she had never seen, about all the experiences she had ever heard of, but would never do.

Tara wrote stories about what she would do if she could ever leave the building, about who she would talk to, her friends, her family. She wrote about amazing actions that she could do if she could only talk to another person, besides the woman who came in to check on her. Tara imagined those who would come to see her in her final moments, and what they would say about her once they had to live without her. She wrote about the memories that others would have of her, if she could only escape her real life.

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Tara sighed and sat back in her chair. Then she saw a scrap of paper, underneath the desk. She snatched it up and put it in the empty space on top of the desk. Tara went to grab the pen.

Her hand didn’t move. She frowned, and tried again, willing her arm to do her bidding.

Reaching out, Tara grabbed the pen. Holding it shakily between her fingers, she wrote on the paper. Instead of her usual tight, somewhat messy handwriting, she slowly wrote out one word in big, shaky capital letters that took up the entire page. Tara looked at the paper, then furiously tried to erase it with the pen. But the teal ink just smudged a bit.

She stared at it, remembering the beautiful sky outside. Tara dropped the pen and stumbled slowly to her bed. Laying wrapped in her blankets used to make her feel safe, protected, warm. But now she just felt restless, anticipating what she knew would soon happen. Whenever she started to fall asleep, she would open her eyes wider, or shake her head violently. But eventually, Tara could resist sleep no longer, and her pale eyes, the color of a tropical ocean, closed softly. Her breathing grew slower and slower until it came to a complete stop, and a peaceful look came over her normally troubled face.

Outside, snow started to fall, covering the landscape in a soft blanket of white. The snow covered up the skinny, brown tree branches and the bugs crawling over the decaying trees. It covered up the window of Tara’s room. A quiet stole over the basement, and it stayed that way for several hours. No movement took place in the room, until the woman came down the stairs.

She saw Tara laying still on the bed, and her face turned into a frown. Looking around the room, she saw the piece of paper, on which Tara had written one final word in the bright blue ink: GOODBYE. The woman went back up the stairs and went to a desk at the front of the building. She flipped pages in a book, and found Tara’s name. Next to it sat a blank space. Tara didn’t have any contacts of family or friends who would come to see her. The woman pursed her lips and shut the book with a touch more force than necessary. She walked briskly back to the basement, where Tara lay tranquil in the bed, wrapped in the turquoise blankets. The woman started taking the picture frames off of the walls, and stacking them along with the piles of Tara’s papers. She looked at a few of the papers, and smiled ruefully. Then the nurse walked up the stairs out of the basement, and then walked down the hallway to the door that led out of the building, carrying the stack of papers and frames. She walked through the fallen snow to a dip in the ground, filled with scarlet flames. Taking one last look at the papers in her hands, the nurse dropped them into the fire and watched as the smoke billowed into the air, the fire’s red flames

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shooting up and licking angrily at the fading blue of the sky. The dark gray smoke and ash floated up and up, covering the brilliant blue sky as it succumbed to the darkness of night.

Amanda Von St. Paul --------------Sorrowful Souls Here the lovely flower lies her eyes forever shut Her now stiff legs can no longer skip in the fields Dolled up lips, permanently sealed, will no longer sing hymns And her hands will no longer caress But she will never die for she had the heart of an angel So in heaven her eyes will gaze upon the shining stars And she’ll dance with the youth She’ll sing melodic tunes with the other angels And she’ll caress the sorrowful souls Aaliyah Nelson --------------Addiction I put all my love and trust in you, You were the reason I lived.

You still are to this day, my morning dew, For you are my love and heart.

I only gave you control of my full and loving heart, But you threw it around like a doll.

I gave you my all, I hate myself for letting you break me this way.

The bright sunset feeling i had all along, Was replaced with cold dreary rain.

Only thing to comfort me was the feeling of your absence.

So i returned to the way i was, Turns out love is nothing but a drug, And i choose not to feel Eryanna Wilson-Mickles

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--------------Banana Man and Carrot Dude Decades ago, Banana Man sat on the floor while he looked in the mirror at a 7/11.

Banana Man smelled really bad. He smelt so bad that the employees who worked at 7/11 had to kick him out. The smell that lingered on him had a scent of gasoline mixed with a month old turkey that had just got deep fried along with Hot Cheeto dust sprinkled on top of it. One can see why he got kicked out. Banana Man had no choice but to walk the lonely road to a place that could accept him. He wandered down the road, trying to start a conversation with other walkers.

He got turned down left and right. Banana Man truly hit rock bottom at this moment. No matter what he did, individuals would beat him up and curb stomp him for smelling the way he did.

Right when Banana Man just about gave up on life he smelt the smell that lingered on him, but this time the smell came from another guy! He followed the smell and it led him to a tall and orange man. Banana Man walked up to this strange guy and tapped on his shoulder.

Instantly, the guy turned around and both Banana Man and Carrot Dude embraced each other in a tight hug. Banana Man had never felt happier in his whole life. He felt safe. He felt at home. From this point on Banana Man and Carrot Dude could never separate.

Rachel Rincavage --------------Fairy Tales Believing the ones who let me down I don’t want to get my hopes up The feeling of heartbreak Too much to bear The thought of losing the one I so much adore Hoping to continue to live in this fairytale My dream to live on As one with my imagination As reality closes in And my thoughts grow smaller The reality of my fairytales

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Grow less likely Of coming true.

Martha Smith --------------Scales Shiny scales shimmer Jealousy fills the ocean But fish keeps the scales Others start to avoid him He trades scales for happiness Alex Santiaguel ---------------

Deal at Starbucks A 12 Piece One Act

Dramatis Personae Mr. Earl De Mott, English Teacher, Great Task Master, Assigner of 12 pieces of writing Gapi Doo De Mott, the Elder Dog Rocky Road De Mott, the Younger Dog Makenzie Downing, the Innocent Student / Victim, Loving and Obedient Daughter Patricia Downing, Colleague, Mother, Embarrasser, Gamer Squirrel, Incitor

Setting- Outside tables at Starbucks, Redmill

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Mr. De Mott- (Walking his two dogs past Starbucks, he sees his student Makenzie sipping a Matcha Green Tea Creme Frappuccino while typing away on her school issued Chrome book. Next to her, her mom and his colleague Patricia Downing is downing a White Chocolate Mocha while intensely tapping away at her smart phone) Hey Makenzie, what's the haps? Hey, Downing, nice to see you!

Patricia- (Putting her phone down on the table) Very nice to see you too Earl.

Rocky- BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK Bark Bar Ba Gapi - (blankly stare at Rocky, then hesitantly says line) BARK? BARK? Makenzie- Still haven’t written my last six pieces Patricia - She’s getting grounded until she has them done Mr. De Mott- (to the dogs was going to say “Why are you barking? But stops half way) Why are you….

Makenzie - (taking a long sip of her Frappuccino, thinking Mr. De Mott is talking to her) They’re so tedious, but I want the good grade.

Gapi- (staring, noticing Makenzie put something to her mouth) Bark Bark Rocky- (also wanting attention, grabs Makenzie’s pant leg) YIP YIP YIP Mr. De Mott- MONKEY BUTT, GET DOWN Patricia - (raising an eyebrow) That’s endearing Gapi - (blank stare, thinking he is being yelled at) whimper Makenzie- I think I should get these done before we leave Mr. De Mott- (grabs Rocky) Come on buddy Rocky- (rips Makenzie’s pant leg) soft crying P E E R2 0 2 1

Makenzie - GET OFF Patricia - MAKENZIE REID GET IN THE CAR (grabs Makenzie’s arm) Makenzie - But I need to do the pieces, I can’t believe you don’t want me to finish my work Patricia Gapi- (runs away and hides in a nearby bush) loud crying Mr. De Mott- Downing why would you not want your daughter to succeed, and you call yourself a teacher (laughs to self) Patricia - Alright Earl , MAKENZIE WE’RE STILL LEAVING Mr. De Mott - I am so sorry about the pants, I’ll run to Micheals to sew some new ones.

I’ll have them to you in a couple months. (digs through wallet for 40% off coupon) Patricia- She doesn’t need them she won’t be going anywhere for a year Makenzie - Buttt since YOUR dog ripped my pants, I should get an A Squirrel- (runs into Gapi) epic squirrel noise Gapi- (runs off for the squirrel) howling growl Mr. De Mott- (Distracted by dogs, running after Gapi) I’ll think about it Makenzie - BUT I NEED THE A Rocky- (squirms out of Mr. De Motts arms, runs into Starbucks (the opposite direction of Gapi)) ruff Mr. De Mott - ROCKY ROAD DE MOTT NO MORE WHIPPED CREAM. GAPI DOO DE MOTT, WHERE ARE YOU (shakes fists angrily in the air) Patricia- (plays game on phone to pass time, talks to herself about the game, but loudly) Looks like his oven’s on fire P E E R2 0 2 1

Mr. De Mott - I’m not sure what that means, but thank you… I think.

Makenzie - I STILL NEED THE A Mr. De Mott- Find my dogs and I’ll give you the A Narrator- Makenzie finds the dogs in under 2 seconds and returns with an A. Mr. De Mott on the other hand is seen sewing pants with Gapi and Rocky on his lap, both licking whipped cream out of a stranger’s cup. Patricia beat HomeScapes and because Makenzie got an A, she never got grounded.

Makenzie Downing

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Closing Words

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To the Class of 2024 Every year, I reserve time at the end of each class to say a few words to students making their departure from my classroom. Last year, due to the sudden closing of schools physically, that rather private speech, was written down and shared publicly. In that way, despite being a message for the outgoing freshman, it turned into a message for all of my students, past, present, and future. This year, I’ll honor that new tradition with these words.

I wonder often what history books will say about this year. Perhaps, future students will see images of empty auditoriums, concert venues, shopping malls, and make their conclusion that this was a period of great isolation. Or perhaps images of masked workers, socially distanced students, spatially aware individuals making their way through the every day tasks will tell them that this was an era of great cooperation. Or perhaps they will see images of computer screens. Lots and lots of computer screens, and simply not know how to gauge the pulse of 2021. As I wonder this, I wonder if we who are breathing the very air of 2021 are unable to see clearly what all of this means.

I hear repeatedly how we are in a period of loss. I hear repeatedly how we are behind our non-pandemic counterparts. I hear repeatedly how no one knows the future impact of our depleted social interactions, our cancelled proms, our severely limited graduations, our emptied venues and emptied coffers. With this, I agree, we don’t know.

I wonder though, if we could reinterpret the consequences. Instead of asking what we loss, what if we asked what we gained? Instead of talking about being behind, what if we talked about how we are ahead? Instead of focusing solely on the future, what if we spent more time and care on the present?

I want to be clear that I am not aligning the mindset to add a certain spin to the difficulties of this past year and a half, but rather to put things in a broader historical perspective. Focusing on the loss, and the loss alone, suggest that we lived in a utopia prior to the turning point of the pandemic.

I hear repeatedly how we need to “get back to normal”, and, frankly, I shudder at this concept. This year, to get personal for a second, I taught solely from home, from my son’s room of wall to wall postcards, to the kitchen table with the water boiling to make my morning oatmeal with raisins, to the living room, with horrible backlighting, but a place for my two dogs, Gapi and Rocky to sit as I taught.

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The period undoubtedly has been one of adjustment, but one in which I would never give up in terms of what I’ve gained, a more compassionate view of the people around me, an understanding that hardship demands creative ways to solve issues, and a virtual network beyond anything I imagined. If nothing else, I appreciate the fact that the incredible Mrs. Berberich* has been a part of this class's inaugural year at the Academy, and who could argue against the benefit that this interaction has?

In short, I don’t think we should attempt to get back to normal, we should, if anything, look forward to a new normal, and not wholeheartedly toss all of the good that came from this difficult year, the introspection, the care for others, the care for our loved ones, the forgiveness and grace that comes from times of hardship. Let’s not go back to a world without those things.

Let’s not make the quest for normalcy the enemy of needed change, because as we should know, normal is neither good nor bad, rather “normal” is simply the level of acceptance we have for that which is good or bad.

Change always comes with a struggle. Change is the stuff of novels and plotlines, and character development charts. Change means letting go, and letting go means accepting a certain level of loss.

*Mrs. Meghan Berberich sat with my class in the building as I taught from home.

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