THE COVID TIMES FALL 2020 | ISSUE 2 | HKIS STUDENT NEWSPAPER
HKIS's take on the US election scary stories to settle in for the halloween season
an update on the BLM movement a creative collage combining all aspects of life
c o n t e n t s
004 Take a look at the daily lives of HKIS students by glancing at the pictures our team took to capture the smallest events! 005 Dive into a delicate story of a variety of emotions 007 Get notified with the latest update and news on the Black Lives Matter movement! 008 Wondering about this year's presidential election results? Have a glance at the presidential election from a student's perspective.
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FALL 2020 | ISSUE 2 | COVID TIMES
editor's letter Halloween sparks excitement. Adrenaline. Sweetness. Surprise. During October, both new energies and nostalgic memories come to life, generating a surge in enthusiasm and an atmosphere of anticipation. Long gone are the dull days of bland news that lacked thrill. Horrific decorations and ominous stories have bloomed, and our environment has once again changed to a fantasy of orange and black. In the second issue of our fall selection, the Covid Times team has put together a delightful read filled with current events, perspective writing, and of course, a take back to halloween in many aspects. We’ve taken a new approach to writing, and more students have stepped up to take action. Our genres have widened in range, and members have become more willing to speak up. Through the process of creating this publication, we’ve noticed a new characteristic that creates the wonderful beauty of teamwork and collaboration — risk-taking. It’s just like halloween: having the opportunity to step forward and knock, for an unexpected result of trick or treat. It’s frightening at first, but speaking up sparks the kick that keeps us going. It motivates each and every team member to join the conversation, and slowly, the group builds more communication. As many people say, “you don’t know how things will turn out if you don’t try them”. So, the Covid Times team has motivated one another to enjoy the process with little regrets. And it’s filled each meeting with wonder and surprise! Sometimes, one just has to step out of their comfort zone to attempt new ideas for improvement. There’s not really a concept of failure, where it’s only a new starting point to grow from. Sharing ideas sparks inspiration and lets us free. There’s a chance in anything we’re risking. And with that, I bring you the second issue of Fall Covid Times 2020! Cheers, Cindy Chen Editor-in-Chief
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FALL 2020 | ISSUE 2 | COVID TIMES
hkis at-a-glance Eva Kim, Juno Huang, William Liang
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FALL 2020 | ISSUE 2 | COVID TIMES
all the forgotten moments Ha Jin Sung
It’ll be this week.
I tried to shut off the imaginary TV in my head, but whenever I had managed to finally pull myself back into the present world, my eyes
It’s been two long years since I lost Marisol. Since then, every time
would
Mom had come back from her part-time job as a nurse at that
Marisol stood on the middle shelf. And then the memories started to
kiddy hospital, the huge lump in the back of my throat didn’t
replay again. Again, again and again. I just hoped eventually, the
budge. Each memory, sinking deep down into my stomach, alone
universe around me would collapse and my whole world would be
and forgotten until it was digested and plucked out of the world.
restarted.
Gone. I remember Marisol’s chocolate brown hair, always curled
computer. A clean, new page with a small margin for error and a large
into a french braid. And her emerald green eyes, always looking
space for the time Earth owed me
at
something
or
someone.
I
missed
having
a
younger
linger
As
over
towards
easy
as
my
bookshelf.
clicking
the
A
small
scrapbook
refresh
of
button
me
on
and
your
sister.
Someone who didn’t mind if I didn’t know all the words in our
Not yet. But soon. I see her pain. But wait. Time will come itself.
favorite book, The Mermaid Princess. Someone who always came to me first, even before Mom and Dad. Someone who had the nerve to stand up to the bully at our school.
The next day, when I walked out of my room, Mom and Dad’s room was locked, like it always was after the accident. I pressed my ears gently against their door and the only thing I could hear a soft snore from
I
was
twelve
when
it
happened,
and
Marisol
was
nine,
and
everything was calm. Nothing was headed to crumble, or as, I thought so. Every single second passed through my head as if the repeat button had been put on a loop. The memories sang out to me and there was nothing I could do to stop them.
them. I walked into my room and picked up the first outfit I could find. I slid out the door, ignoring my rumbling stomach, and stuffed a tendollar bill from my rusty piggy bank into my backpack. I had burned through
all
my
birthday
money,
and
I
knew
that
I
was
going
to
eventually have to break through the $50 emergency money I had hidden in my mattress, but I had no choice.
It was a perfect Sunday morning, the sun was illuminating the sky, not
a
single
cloud
fogged
up
the
atmosphere
and
the
small
sparrows had finally returned to their nests, perched in the trees
I slipped out of the house, locking the door firmly behind me, and set
surrounding our house. The house was cranked up with music and
out towards the bus stop. I had never been the social type of person, A
the smell of pancakes reached the tip of our noses. Marisol had
‘social outcast’ title would fit me perfectly. I leaned against one of the
on her girl scouts vest, splattered with badges, and was playing
streetlights
with Twinkles, our puppy before Mom dragged her out of the
appeared in the winter air as I wrapped a thin jacket around my
house
every
shivering arms. A group of girls made their way towards the bus stop,
family would start their Sundays, but life is full of surprises that
their shirts way too short for school, their lips strawberry pink under the
change your life, but not always in a good way. The small alarm
fourteen
clock in my head started buzzing furiously when I heard the soft
hairstyles they must have found from the teen magazine that made its
sobs of Mom after the front door locked. I jumped off my bed and
way around town every season. I watched as they mingled on their
poked my head out of my room. I saw clear wet streaks on Mom’s
cellphones, of course, the newest versions, and traded scrunchies. As
face as she fell to the ground on her knees. I carefully made my
they walked past me, they stared, and I knew exactly what they were
way to her.
thinking from my bare hands, phoneless and my hair and wrists, bare. I
into
our
white
Volvo.
Everything
was
normal
like
and
layers
took
of
a
deep
lipgloss,
sigh.
and
A
their
small
hair
cloud
pulled
of
into
my
the
breath
cutest
would love to have the newest phone, the pretty copper color would “Mom?” I whispered, voice wavering. She stared at me and sadly
gleam off the sun and I would love to feel my hair up in a fluffy purple
shook her head. “Are you okay? Where’s…” my voice cracked.
hairband, my favorite color, but I wasn’t going to ask. I had learned to
“Where’s
ask for nothing, except the cherished time I would have been spending
Marisol?”
Mom
broke
into
wails
as
she
shook
my
shoulders.
with Marisol if she hadn’t died. It was too early. I was supposed to have my whole life with Marisol, yet, I hadn’t even had a decade with
“There’s been an accident.” Was all she said until she rushed into
her.
the room she and Dad shared. I saw dad’s red cap appear at the door. “Summer, do your homework,” he murmured as he slammed the door shut.
5
The
yellow
bus
chugged
up
the
street,
snow
crunching
under
its
wheels. I hung back, boarding the bus last before settling into the middle seat, my backpack tucked under my chin.
FALL 2020 | ISSUE 2 | COVID TIMES
all the forgotten moments Ha Jin Sung
I could see the longing in her face, I could see the determination.
That night, my body tugged for me to go to sleep, but my eyes stood wide awake. Had I been so foolish and everything was a prank, seeing
When I had finally come home from school and entered the house,
if I still believe in those so-called-true notes? The worries stormed
I realized Mom and Dad’s room door was unlocked. Their door
desperately in my head, before the world in front of me went blank,
had always been locked ever since Marisol had died, and they’d
and I fell asleep.
never forgotten to keep it latched. Summer. You have completed my request. Now here is the truth about I peeked through the small crack, no one was there. Out of the corner
of
my
eye,
I
saw
something
gleaming
off
the
your sister…
window
ledge. As always, my curiosity overcame my consciousness and I
Summer, 2019
stepped inside their room. It had been a long time since I had stepped foot inside their room, and a strange sort of familiarity built inside of me. I tiptoed to the window ledge like a spy, then saw a small pearl necklace with words engraved on it. I squinted and brought the necklace closer to my face and I could make out a faint letter. M. I tried to calm my racing heartbeat and rushed to get the angle right in the sunlight. A. R. I. S. O. L. This necklace belonged to my sister. I snatched it off the ledge, vowing that I would return it in an unsuspicious way, and sprinted into Marisol’s room. Everything was the same as the day she had left as nothing had changed at all. Her unmade bed, her homework on her desk, and her clothes overflowing the dresser. Nobody moved anything, we just silently took turns sitting down in Marisol’s room. I rested my
head
gently
on
the
rim
of
her
bed.
My
fingers
relaxed,
Marisol’s necklace still curled around my them. Everything was calm, ever so calm and I drifted slowly to sleep.
Grass tickled my bare feet as I walked down the little hill towards the lake. A flock of birds passed by overhead, chirping a song, just for nature to listen to. I watched the little weeds pop out of the pure dirt, soon to be a beautiful flower garden. Everything had a whole life cycle, just like life. I was sixteen years old now, and ready to start fresh. Ready to let go, and ready to hold on. Ready to overcome anything life has for us. But first, I needed to go back before I made this journey forward, just like you would never leave without hugging your family first. I reached the lake and brushed my fingertips against the clear water and the water leaped like jumping spiders. I took the small slip of paper out of my short pocket and plucked a piece of tall grass out of the park. My hand dipped under the water and I reached for a rock, and then tied everything together. It was more than just a note. It was tying my feelings together, no matter if they were hope, happiness, or depression. I dropped the note down the lake, watching it until it settled on the bottom of the lake. I rubbed the pearl necklace
The time had come. It was time to reveal the truth.
in my hand.
SummerI am not your parents. I shall tell you what happened to your sister that February night. But first, you must write either yes or no. Be quick. Pick up your pencil as soon as you receive this letter. Place the letter under your pillow during the night. Have sweet dreams.
I dropped the necklace in the lake, and I knew that my sister would come back to the lake she once loved someday, and we could be together once again. Maybe not in person, without laughter or shrieks, but together. And that was all that mattered.
Goodbye.
I re-read the letter that was on my lap when I had woken up, a chill sparking up my spine. Mom and Dad couldn’t have written this, could they? I doubted that they would want me to know the truth, but it had to be them, right? They don’t want me to know…
At that moment, I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do, or if I had been dumb enough to fall for a silly trick, but I picked up a stubby pencil and wrote down, yes. I tucked the letter under my pillow and sat on my desk, pushing any trailing thoughts to the back of my head, and started to work on my homework.
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FALL 2020 | ISSUE 2 | COVID TIMES
blm - the recent news Aria Tahilramani & Ashley Chow
Since the death of George Floyd in May 2020, people around the world have been protesting about police brutality in the United States.
There
have
been
many
forms
of
discrimination
Maine students protested when the district told teachers to stop displaying support for Black Lives Matter.
against
people of color in the United States, including career choices and
On
Monday
police brutality. Here are the top three stories concerning Black
Officials
Lives Matter.
items supporting Black Lives Matter. In response, Scarborough High
the
26th,
reminded
School
Scarborough
teachers
students
not
staged
to
Public
wear
protests
School
clothing
or
outside
District display
the
town
municipal building on Tuesday. Mia Goulder said, "You can't
As the U.S. Presidential Election nears, Trump supporters clash with Black Lives Matter protesters in Gettysburg.
choose what race you are. You can choose your opinion on certain
political
race,
that
stances,
doesn't
but
because
make
it
it
is
about
political."
someone's
Scarborough
For months, the town stage in Gettysburg has been the stage for
Superintendent
protesters to rally. As Pennsylvania is a swing state, polls show a
statement, saying that the district needs "to educate better and
tight contest between President Trump and former vice president
equip ourselves to have these conservations." According to the
Biden. With the elections coming up, disputes over social justice,
policy concerning how to handle controversial issues in school,
identity, and race have been erupting all over Pennsylvania. Trump
the policy states that "Educators shall not use the classroom as
supporters have yelled, screamed, and retaliated against Black
a
Lives Matter protesters. Irish Whaley, a Black woman attending a
according
demonstration on October 24, said, "You're going to tell me all
expressing their views for legitimate pedagogical purposes."
forum
to
Sanford
advance
to
the
J.
Prince
their
system,
IV
apologized
personal "but
are
views not
or
in
a
public
proselytize,"
prohibited
from
lives matter, but you're going to yell and scream at me like my life doesn't matter." Additionally, a Democratic state senate candidate was shoved to the ground at the same demonstration. With the election
less
especially
than
among
a
week
Trump
away,
tensions
supporters
and
are Black
running Lives
Works Cited
high,
Matter
“Philadelphia prepares for possible new protests after police shot
protesters.
and
killed
a
Black
man
wielding
a
knife.”
9News,
https://www.9news.com.au/world/black-lives-matter-protestphiladelphia-police-shooting-of-black-man-sparks-
Philadelphia prepares for possible protests after police shot and killed a Black man.
unrest/a8734cc1-b443-4353-b631-1c6b47b64d51.
Jamison,
Peter.
“In
Gettysburg,
Trump
supporters
clash
with
Officials are preparing for another night of unrest after police shot
Black Lives Matter protesters as election nears.” The Washington
and killed a Black man holding a knife. On Monday the 26th,
Post,
Walter Wallace Jr was killed by the police. Protesters are outraged
https://www.washingtonpost.com/history/2020/10/26/gettys
and
burg-trump-black-lives-matter-clashes/.
want
to
know
why
less-lethal
force
wasn't
used.
Demonstrations lead to dozens of deaths as there was lots of violence and looting. Five police vehicles and one fire vehicle were
Williams,
vandalized. 91 people were arrested as well. The police state that
district told teachers and staff not to display support for 'Black
they
anticipate
protesters.
The
more
protests
Philadelphia
due
District
to
more
Attorney's
unrest
David.
“Group
of
Maine
protest
after
the
from
the
Lives
and
the
https://edition.cnn.com/2020/10/27/us/maine-blm-school-
Office
police unit are investigating the shooting of Walter Wallace Jr. The
Matter.'”
students
CNN,
protest-trnd/index.html.
shooting was recorded on video. The video confirms that Wallace was holding a k nife and was shot when he didn't put the knife down. A witness confirms that the police pulled out their guns as soon as they saw his blade. Wallace's uncle stated that "I'm just disappointed that his life ended as it has. I don't think it's right. I don't think it's right at all. I don't think they did any justice".
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FALL 2020 | ISSUE 2 | COVID TIMES
hkis's take on the presidential election Angie So
On September 30th, 2020, the presidential debate started. The discussion was the first chance for Donald Trump and Joe Biden to debate and challenge each other. Many were anticipating the discussion;
however,
the
debate
was
messy,
with
the
two
continually arguing. Not a moment went by without interruptions and insults thrown at each other. Biden snapped at a certain point, retorting back with: “Will you shut up, man?” Biden also told Trump that he was the worst U.S. president ever. Trump also had his taunt towards Biden, “China ate your lunch,” with more about Biden not being qualified to become a president, along with insults thrown at his family and policies.
Student Reaction Students agreed with the netizens, saying that it was messy, and the policies were not clear. Pointing out that even though the election was trending and a massive event, it didn’t matter as the debate only reinforced its points. For whom the students support, all interviewed students agreed that Biden is a better fit for the role than Trump, saying that he had more experience and Biden has a growth plan. While on the other hand, students pointed out that Trump is very self-centered and doesn’t have his facts straight.
Online Reaction Netizens
were
frustrated
as
the
debate
continued.
“Made
me
cringe. I felt bad for the moderator, Chris Wallace, trying to keep it together.” a netizen commented. Another online user posted: “Is this a presidential debate or two Twitter stans arguing?” Along with more harsh comments. "That debate was a disgrace." With a strong reaction from the online community, let’s see how students from HKIS respond to this.
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FALL 2020 | ISSUE 2 | COVID TIMES
sketches
Cindy Chen
Alexis Chan
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FALL 2020 | ISSUE 2 | COVID TIMES
halloween stories: read at your own risk. Jean Hu, with special thanks to Mollie Mei, Seo Sin, Sora Ju and Cynthia Tian
Story #1: Behind the Chalkboard
Story #2: Invisible
Mr. Warner has always been big on old-school studying. He has a
“Catch!”
black chalkboard with a splintered wooden frame in front of the large classroom, and a red landline on his desk. It’s a gleaming,
Squid hurls the ball hard at me, making me run backwards to
antique telephone, complete with a curly wire. The thing is, only his
catch it. Keeping my eyes glued to the ball, I notice it seems to
30 students call that particular landline- and for study purposes
glow against the cerulean blue sky, like fire.
only
top of the red rubber ball, and catch it just before it hits the
Whatever. I dive on
ground. Mr. Warner likes to have ‘leisure library time’, which is when the thirty students go to the library and stay there overnight to study. In
“Got it!” I shout in Squid’s direction
the library, a similar landline sits at the main table, waiting to be used by Mr. Warner’s students when they need help on something.
But as I look towards Squid, his eyes are wide with fear. He’s petrified- but why?
One night, Mr. Warner was sitting at his desk, neatly writing out a
“A-a-alex, look down.”
lesson plan for the next day. The red landline rang with a sharp When I look down at my stomach, all I see is charred black skin,
bring, and he picked it up gently.
and a huge hole in the middle of my body. I don’t feel any pain,
“Mr.
Warner
here,
what
do
you
need
help
on?”
he
says
in
a
monotone voice.
but Squid looks terrified, as if he’s seeing a morbid sight. That’s when I realize: I can see my body, like the third-person view in some video games. I can see my eyes. Squid screams, and that’s
“This is your 31st student. Would you mind taking your chalkboard
when my vision goes black.
off the wall for a second?” I wake up to find myself in the middle of the hallway in my
The person on the other side hangs up immediately. Suddenly, Mr. Warner had a thought. Where did the 31st student come from? Curious, Mr. Warner turns around and unlatches the chalkboard from the whitewashed wall for the first time in twenty years.
The body of a student lies in a hole carved into the wall, slumped against the gray cement, a telephone in their dead, white hand and eyes rolled to the back of their head.
school. I can see my friends laughing together as they head to class. I smile and say hi to them, but they carry on talking as if I didn’t exist. Weird. My friends aren’t usually like this. Maybe they’re pranking me?
I keep on walking down the hallway, passing people who I know and people who I don’t. I wave to my favorite teacher, Ms. Johnson, but she doesn’t wave back. In fact, she looks right through me, like she doesn’t see anything where I am. Really weird.
When
I
head
into
the
lunch
room,
I
see
my
friends
sitting
together at a far table. I walk over, and sit down next to Squid. I listen to their conversation, but something seems off. Squid isn’t laughing and joking like he normally is. Instead, he sits quietly, in a melancholy way, with his head bowed. Super weird.
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FALL 2020 | ISSUE 2 | COVID TIMES
halloween stories: read at your own risk. Jean Hu, with special thanks to Mollie Mei, Seo Sin, Sora Ju and Cynthia Tian
“What’s
going
on
with
you,
Squid?
You’ve
been
acting
out
of
character all day.”
As I remember this, I sit up in bed. I need some snacks to calm my nerves. As I walk down the staircase, I trip and fall all the way down. When I look back, I don’t see anything I could have
This is coming from my friend Alan, who I’ve known since we were
tripped over.
4. “I’m just- just-” Squid can’t seem to form words, “It’s Alex.”
I can almost hear an old lady’s voice laughing maniacally.
“What about him?” Alan asks.
Story #4: Legacy
Squid
seems
to
be
debating
about
something,
at
battle
with
She didn’t think the men would appear again. She had killed
himself. His hands are shaking, his lips quivering, eyes darting back
them a few months ago, with her own hands, using her own
and forth. I can see beads of perspiration on his forehead.
shiny knife. So when they appeared again at the train station, she was obviously surprised.
“Well, uh, um, I, uh, told you all that he wasn’t at school today because he was sick, and, um I-.”
There was an eerie aura radiating off the men, especially the one at the front, his eyes seemingly flickering from brown to red.
He can’t finish his sentence, and just sits there, mouth slightly open,
The
looking at the others for help. I’m so confused. What does he mean
coated in dark red blood. It made her sick. How many other girls
I’m not at school today? I’m sitting right here! Yes, everyone has
had they attempted to kill, how many after she’d just escaped
been ignoring me, but I’m right next to him!
death? She was lost in her thoughts when the man lunged at
edge
of
the
knife
he
held
protectively
at
his
side
was
her. “Well, uh, Alex is…” Squid seems to choke on air after he forces 3 words out. “Alex is dead.”
She was scared. She was amazed. She was confused. And suddenly- they weren't there. Where the men were standing just
My ghost mouth drops open in shock.
mere seconds before, there were now 2 men in red uniforms, glaring down at her.
Story #3: Down The Stairs
“You’ve cheated death once before.” The one on the right said.
My house is right across from the graveyard. My classmates at “What-?” school tease me for it, saying I live with ghosts, and I agree with them.
When
my
parents
moved
into
this
house,
I
complained “Cheating death is a crime here. Crime everywhere, just some
endlessly, going on and on about living with the dead. But they people don’t know it.” The other continued. never
listened.
Every
night,
I
can
hear
the
wind
moaning
and
branches rustling, cats yowling and rain hitting the roof. I keep “I escaped death!” telling myself that nothing’s there, that ghosts aren’t real, but when I look towards the window, the flapping curtains still bring a chill “Cheated.” down my spine.
“Escaped.” It doesn’t help that folks say my house was haunted. They say that an old lady died when she fell down the stairs, and that she’s been “Cheated.” living in the stairs ever since, waiting to trip someone else to their death. “Escaped!”
11
FALL 2020 | ISSUE 2 | COVID TIMES
halloween stories: read at your own risk. Jean Hu, with special thanks to Mollie Mei, Seo Sin, Sora Ju and Cynthia Tian
“No matter what you think, you’ve still cheated death. You were supposed to die, and you didn’t. That’s called cheating death.” Righty continued his heated argument.
“It’s called using skill to escape death. Not that you would know.”
“You cheated death. This was your second chance. It’s over now. This time I’ll make sure you die and you stay that way. Dead. Like you’re supposed to be. That’s your job now.
“We will make sure she dies!” The left one snapped back.
“That’s what I said!”
“You said ‘I’!”
“That’s not the point, we’re supposed to be making sure the girl dies, you idiot, so stop being a brat and help me kill her!”
“I thought-”
“Grab her, you imbecile!”
Lefty’s
hands
grabbed
her
wrist
and
they
dragged
her
along,
Righty’s voice was yelling as Lefty complained about having to carry her. They threw open large brass doors, dark designs weaving in and out along the door. Lefty fumbled with the binds he put on her wrists and finally threw her to the loud grunt from Righty.
“Death is perceived as a brutal, savage idea. But it’s not. Death is right. Death is the solution to most things. And you get to see that first hand. Shame you won’t be around to tell people about it.” Both their smiles turned cruel.
The copper brown doors slammed closed, leaving her trapped.
She couldn’t believe it- she had killed them. They had come back, and she was dying. But maybe, death is right after all. Maybe, this was supposed to be the solution, the way to fix this. Maybe she was destined to die- targeted from the moment her ancestor killed that uniformed man with the exact same knife, on the same train platform, over 500 years ago.
12
Drawing by Alexis Chan
FALL 2020 | ISSUE 2 | COVID TIMES
the ocean's revenge: part 2 Aemilia Sofia Rice Mileto
2:27 am, Tuesday, October 08, 2023:
“Stop polluting the environment. Stop killing the ocean! Stop annihilating
your
world!
Your
children’s
world!
This
beautiful
The same night, a man named Larry Lant, (Sometimes nicknamed
world is the only one we have, and you are destroying it. You,
Larry Rant by his colleagues for his unusual talent to rant for hours
humans,
about meaningless things), was stretched out and sleeping in a
wonderful
spacious king-sized bed. He occupied it like a cat who becomes
oceans. You have to stop! Please stop. Help people refrain from
liquid. With his arms spread out like a starfish, he was snoring
ruining the earth. Do what you can to make it stop, once and for
constantly. He was smirking in his sleep. He had just been given the
all.”, she breathed as if by magic she was breathing life into
place of Europe’s Head of Environmental Problems and Solutions. It
him.
are
consuming
place
has
it.
given
This us
peculiar, life,
strange
beauty,
and
and
so,
nature,
oh
and
was strange that a non-nature guy like him had been given this crucial position. Even stranger was that he seemed thrilled about
These
wonderful,
fiery,
ardent
words
would
have
warmed
a
it. The fact was, Larry Lant was not a nice man. Not a nice man at
heart of stone, would have made even the lowliest coward fight.
all. He did not care tuppenny about his world, the ocean, and
But Larry Lant was not only a coward, and did not only have a
anything except him and his success. So when he was given this
heart of stone, but he also had a stupid, ignorant, selfish, and
post, his first concern was “How do I profit from this?”.
haughty part of him; especially for things like the environment. He didn’t like this dream at all, he thought, and then the dark,
Unfortunately, apart from being greedy and fat, he was also a very
greedy part of him came out. He glared at her and, true to his
good businessman. And what he meant to do with this job was
name, started ranting.
certainly not going to be profitable for the environment. He was certainly going to do the problem word in his title, but the solution?
“Look lady, I don’t know what you are, or if you’re some kind of
Nope. If I had known this, I would have not wasted time on him by
conscience freak. But I don’t need all this stress, ok? I don’t know
sending my mermaid to warn him, but I did not know, and, having
what the heck you’re on about.”
already tried several times with other important politicians and heads of state, (And getting depressing results), I decided to send
The mermaid looked at him, almost desperate, trying to find an
her mermaid to him. The dream went like this,
ounce of compassion in him, “Don’t you care about the world you leave behind? And your children?”
Larry,
“Golly,
I’m
in
a
dream.
I
didn’t
know
I
could
control
my
dreams!”
“Who cares? I’ll be dead by the time this is a real problem.”, he yawned. “So I tell you, lady, I ain’t going to do nothing of the
The mermaid stood a few feet away from him, glowering like a red
sort of saving the world. I don’t see why I should. It’s not my
hot poker. Her hair shone and her eyes sparkled as she spoke,
problem.”
“Hello, mortal.” She blazed at him, glowing now. “Hello?”, was all Larry had to say. He scratched his ear, nervous under the mermaid’s hot glare.
“I have a message for you. From the ocean. From your world.”, she seemed to be slightly appeased when she talked about the ocean and the world, he told himself, like it was some kind of soothing pill from her undeniable anger towards him.
Why me? he wondered unhappily. Why was some crazy lady in a crazy dream mad at him?
“I really am dreaming.”, he muttered.
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the ocean's revenge: part 2 Aemilia Sofia Rice Mileto
“You were the ones who created the stupid problem! You are the ones who are polluting the planet! You are the ones who will eventually destroy it because of your negligence!”
Larry was indignant at her words, “We’re not negligent! We’re just smart. We managed to defeat nature, haven’t we? Nature is at our heels! WE rule the world!
At this, the mermaid erupted. Something inside her seemed to break, like a volcano that is split open and starts spitting lava. The small hope she had kept that her sister was right and that she wouldn’t
have
to
destroy
humanity
vanished.
Her
glowing
form
morphed into a growing fire, she spewed red sparks and looked at him with a withering glare from her core. The ocean and she were together now, their doubts gone.
“You, horrible, hateful, squidgy, pink, disgusting, fat worm! You don’t care, do you? None of you humans care? Too bad I care! I care, you pig! I will extinguish human life! You think you are so smart? You aren’t! You stole my world! You stole my water! You stole nature, and her animals! But you won’t get away from the consequences!”
It’s. All. Your. Fault! Larry Lant woke up suddenly. He gasped, looking at himself. He was covered in red marks. Had his dream… Been real? He looked out his window. And he screamed. And screamed, his ears ringing.
Because a blood-red tsunami was advancing on the city.
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creative collage Eva Kim, Juno Huang, Ashley Chow
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what's popular with ball hockey? Ishwar Dhanuka
I spent some time with the ball hockey club. I conducted many interviews and managed to drag lots of info from the players. Read what some of your friends have said.
Interview 1: Rush Roe “You get to be with your friends and get to make new ones. The worst thing is losing or injuries. When I realized I got ball hockey, I was really happy.”
Rush plays on the field as an offensive player; he finds it to be the most fun part of the game. He thinks the best way to score is a zig-zag pattern and a straight shot down the middle.
Interview 2: Patrick Mulhall “The best thing is you get to play with others and that it's about teamwork. The worst thing is that people try to get all the glory and attention. When I realized I got it I was happy because my friends were in it too.”
Patrick likes to just have fun with the game.
Interview 3: Mr.Weaver “I run this club because I love hockey as a passion and I wish to share it with the middle school. I always cry when the Stanley Cup is awarded. The sticks must be down and as I say to my sons, fear, fear no pain. I love sharing the space becoming alive with students' passions and voices. I also love the smell of green rubber in the morning.”
Interview 4: Ian Nam “My favorite thing is to get fit. My least favorite thing is you frequently get injured during games. When I got it, I screamed YAY.”
Ian plays defense and thinks the best strategy is to go behind the opponent and predict where it goes.
The Equipment Mystery According to Mr. Weaver, a mystery man broke into school on the 3 day weekend and messed with the equipment. Who did this, only the person who did it knows? If you are interested in solving a mystery, go to the amphitheater to meet Mr. Weaver.
All people who live here at
the Tai Tam campus are suspects at large. If you have any information on this crime please report to Mr. Weaver. The reward, three smiles, and a handshake. Current suspects are the drama club kids and anyone who has access to the school campus over the weekend said Mr. Weaver.
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the whirling dervish or the red ghost Aemilia Sofia Rice Mileto
A cold gust of wind made me shiver. Whoosh. Whoosh. It was
She was dancing too. Round and round she went around me,
like a little trickle of ice was sliding down my back, small but
twirling perfectly but so fast that she looked as if she was doing
freezing. I got out of my warm bed and fuzzy covers and
one of those Scottish reels. I was dizzy by the time she gracefully
glared
stopped, and it took me a few seconds to realize she was holding
at
the
opened
window.
Funny
thing
was,
I
didn’t
remember opening the window before going to bed.
out her hands to me. What did she want me to do? Then I got it. She wanted me to dance with her! I’d never done such a crazy
I put my head out the window, breathing in the crisp, fresh air.
thing
in
my
life.
Something
mad
and
wriggling
and
absurd,
It was a quiet night, and the usual rumble of the city’s trains
something that could only happen on Halloween night was taking
and people were silent. It was eerie. The night was large and
hold of me. Without pausing to think about how ghosts didn’t
blue, a velvet coat with stars instead of diamonds shining in its
exist, and this was a miracle, and why she was here, or anything
depths, the large skyscrapers looming in the distance. It was
reasonable, I accepted the offer.
Halloween night. Everything was quiet but I could still see the reflections
of
orange
and
black
decorations
shining
in
the
Oh, I’ve never really liked dancing, and I’ve never been a very
distance, looking like distorted and creepy flashes of light.
talented dancer, but that night was different. So different. We
Every kid was sleeping with a bundle of mouth-watering candy
whirled in my room for ages, or it could have only been a few
under their pillow, dreaming of monsters and witches.
seconds. Then, she took my hand and started flying with me. We rushed out of the newly opened window and danced and danced
Something moved out of the corner of my eye, like a darting
and danced. We held hands over roofs and buildings, a red flash
black
Definitely
amongst the quiet darkness of the city. We twirled for so long
creepy. I went back to my comfy bed, glancing at my electric
that I could barely see the difference between us and the city,
clock. It read at 12:00 pm. Strange. I was sure it was barely
everything was a blur of red, dark blue, and white. We kicked and
eleven
flew around the domes of the buildings, and waved our hands
cat.
the
snuggled
I
closed
last
under
the
time the
I
window,
had
covers
still
glanced hugging
shivering.
at
it.
I
yawned
one
of
my
pillows
and for
about, in a feverish craze. I wanted to dance forever.
company. But a human cannot resist sleep, and I began to feel exhausted. I signaled to her that I wanted to go back. That’s when the change That’s when it happened. First of all, something pricked my skin. I got up suddenly, with the urge of scratching myself suddenly. It came again… But it didn’t hurt. Was it possible? It tickled!
Something
was
tickling
me!
An
involuntary
chuckle
slipped my lips. A little laugh that wasn’t my own resonated in a
waterfall
sound
around
my
room.
I
looked
around
happened. Her face, so kind and excited when I had accepted her offer, was now distorted and angry. Her eyes were bulging more than ever. She gripped my hands tighter. I tried to show her that I wanted to go back,
but she wasn’t listening. That’s when I
really began to feel scared. What was she going to do with me?
me,
startled.
Then
I
saw
her.
She
was
a
wisp
of
white
and
red
in
my
darkroom. Gradually, as I watched, the smoky trail began to grow larger, until I could distinguish a face, arms, and even hair and eyes. The ghost’s hair was wild and tangled, with clashes of red here and there. Her eyes were wide and slightly buggy, popping out of her pale face. I could barely see her feet in her stormy dress, but when I did I noticed they looked like the delicate feet of a china doll or a dancer, polished like a round stone worn by the years and the light of the moon.
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the whirling dervish or the red ghost Aemilia Sofia Rice Mileto
I panicked and started yelling, but her hands got close to my throat and were suffocating the life out of me. I wheezed out of her grasp, but she had a firm hold on me, so I kicked her hard in the stomach. It was her turn to gasp and yell, and when I ordered her to bring me back home, she obeyed. As soon as I could, I jumped from her into my room and closed the window as fast as I could. I could hear her thumping against it full of rage. But soon it was dawn, and the terrible red ghost, the whirling dervish, was gone.
Little did I know...
Epilogue:
A little girl was looking at the night sky. It was the first time she had ever
managed
to
open
her
window;
usually,
it
was
barred,
something her mother never wanted to explain.
It’s nothing you need to know, Emi!
There were so many things she didn’t know.
It was Halloween night. She looked around, wishing for something interesting to happen. A cold shiver ran through her spine. She blinked and screamed.
A ghost’s buggy eyes were staring into hers. She wanted to cry out again, but the ghost had grabbed hold of her, and suddenly she wasn’t
in
her
bedroom,
she
was
outside
and
flying,
her
heart
pounding against her frail chest. The ghost seized her, and they danced and danced, as her mother once had. They danced until everything was blurring, and her hair was as tangled and wild as the ghost’s and her feet were red and blistered. They danced until she was exhausted, and life had been wrung out of her.
As dawn started to peek her rosy face, the little girl died. Dancing. Her ghost lived on though, and her spirit continues to dance and dance without rest, with the malevolent spirit, the whirling dervish.
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MEET THE TEAM Editing Editor in Chief
Cindy Chen
Writing Editor
Kaili Trang
Writing Editor
Rachel Wu
Design Editor
Ariane Lee
Writing Writer
Aemilia Sofia Rice Mileto
Writer
Jean Hu
Writer
Aria Tahilramani
Writer
Ishwar Dhanuka
Writer
Ha Jin Sung
Writer
Ashley Chow
Writer
Aria Tahilramani
Writer
Angie So
Photography Photographer Emily Ling Photographer Juno Huang Photographer William Liang Photographer Eva Kim Photographer Juno Huang Photographer Ashley Chow
Illustration and Graphics Illustrator
19
Alexis Chan