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F F A T S L INKSPIL 2014 – 2015
front cover by Evan Sim back cover by Chole Hui
Editors-in-Chief
Soye Jung
Mynn Yau
Claire Lee
Hyo Jin Kim
Ken Zeng
Isa Pan
Rachel Kim
Emily Zhang
Arden Wang
Sally Kim
Jonathan Zhang
Shine Kim
Nathan Zhang
Staff
Catherine Lin
Nicholas Zhang
Gabby Abando
David Lin
Elizabeth Zhou
Alyssa Adira
Amy Lu
Roanna Zou
Alex Biggs
Philip Ma
Hannah Buckley
Kp Mok
Calvin Chang
Jared Murphy
Nick Choi
Emily Qin
Kevin Cui
Agnes Shan
Annika Deshpande
Evan Sim
Editor’s Note
Anita Ding
Jenny Song
This is an editor’s note, as you can see in
Tulia Fargis
Alex Sun
the bolded letters above. While you flip
Karolina Hogan
Joanne Teng
Nicolas Hollander
Andrew Wang
gather artistic artwork and wonderful
Albert Hu
Anthony Wang
writing pieces in order to create something
Gary Huang
James Wang
Chloe Hui
Vivian Wu
poetry. Faraway fiction. Majestic drawings.
David Jiang
Jing Jing Yang
Check out the works of these writers and
Hannah Jon
Madeleine Yang
Supervisors
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Mr. Bueschlen Mr. Herzberg
through the pages of this fabulous magazine, remember who we are. We
very cool, known as the Middle School literary magazine. It's a collection of
artists. You'll be amazed. And don’t forget, we’re fun people.
Table of Contents Poetry “Poem” by Drason Zhang “Hitler’s Daughter” by Mukul Rajwaar “One Side Only” by Sally Kim and Soye Jung “Once Was A Tree” by Gabby Abando “The Beetle” by Alex Biggs “A Tree” by Mina Kang “Color” by Evan Sim “My Brother, George” by Jenny Kim “Tomorrow, They Stormed the Temples” by Noah Jon “Buried Under Layers of Depression“ by Jing Jing Yang “First Impressions” by Stephanie Cheng “Blue” by Sally Kim “Where I’m From” by Andrew Wang “The Rug” by Thea Jakobi “My Grandma” by Michelle Lian “My Room” by Thea Jakobi “おばあちゃん (o bāchan)” by Christy Ellis “My Grandfather” by Sophia Gonzalez “The Walls of Memories” by Anna Kaplan “Inventions” by Davy Zeng “My Favorite Things” by Rachel Peterson “Frustration” by Jared Murphy “Monday, Friday, Sunday” by Chaewon Mun “Hairy Wolf, Voodoo Beans, Lost Slipper, and Little Men” by Hannah Jon “The Ancient Innovations” by Anita Ding “The Waffle Planet” by Jazzy Alireza “One Can Poke and Prod” by Angela Wei “Acrostic Poems” by Hyo Jin Kim “My Room” by Alex Biggs “Before I Leave” by Arden Wang “Where I’m From” by Nathan Zhang “Opportunities” by Fiona Hodges “Balance Beam” by Isa Pan “When I Fall” by Jenny Huang “As the Wind Blows” by Bella Yang “The Season of Snow” by Henry Ting “Middle School” by Angela Wei “A Dark World” by Samantha Grulich and Siri Cavallerano “My Life in 14 Words” by Alyssa Adria “Catalysts of Destruction” by Brandon Li
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7 8 9 10 11 12 14 14 14 15 15 15 16 16 16 17 17 18 18 18 19 19 19 20 20 21 21 21 22 22 23 23 24 25 25 26 26 26 26 27
“I Was Dying Slowly” by Rachel Kim “My Bed” by Mynn Yau “It Will Rain” by Emily Qin and Tulia Fargis “You Won’t Believe Why I’m Late!” by Joanne Teng “Our Message To the Future” by Pierce Tan “The Dragon” by Bryn Dettman “The Workroom” by Eric Liu “The Student’s Plight” by Casper Suen “The Twelve Days of Valentine’s Day” by Jenny Song “Ode to Fandoms” by Gabby Abando “Ode to Me” by Vivian Wu “Ode to iTunes” by Sally Kim and Soye Jung “Ode to My Bed” by Elizabeth Zhou “Ode to Sassafras” by Jenny Song “Ode to Music” by Madeleine Yang “Ode to Pollution” by Nathan Zhang “Ode to Books” by Annkia Deshpande “Ode to Games” by Philip Ma Prose “Angel’s Flight” by Olivia Rui The Future After 200 Years by Vincent Cai “Holiday” by Joanne Teng “What It Was” by Elsie Kibby “The Bird” by Andy Wang “The Room of Dreams” by David Wang “Being a Chocolate Bar” by David Jiang “Minion’s Adventure” by Nicolas Zhang “Rise of the Snowmen” by Jared Murphy “The Tornado” by Andrew Wang “Time Machine Fail” by Billy Raptis “Future” by Grace Liu “The Pig Tale” by Billy Raptis “The Twelve Days of Christmas” by Vivian Wu “History’s Traveler” by Peter Heller “Faith In Loneliness” by Ray Kao “Surviving the Storm” by Agnes Shan “The Gifts of Shadow” by David Wang “Welcome to Live Academy” by Kevin Cui “Why I’m Late” by Joanne Teng “Abusive” by Stephanie Cheng Anthony’s Tale by Jared Murphy Fanfiction by Gabby Abando The Family Vacay by Alyssa Adria Replace by Catherine Lin The Hunt by Philip Ma Volcanic Wings by Eric Liu, Hugo Tulus, and David Gong
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ode | ode as in “mode” | noun a lyric poem in the form of an address to a particular subject, written in varied or irregular meter: I could totally write an ode about pizza right now.
found poem | a poem that is found | noun a type of poetry created by making changes in spacing and lines, or by adding or deleting text from other sources such as a book page, a passage, or a magazine article: the writer of this found poem was pretty clever—he was somehow able to pull out ordinary words and create an original poem.
post-it story | sticky note brilliance | noun a short story, illustrated or drawn, compressed into a revolutionary PostIt Note: the post-it stories in the Inkspill Magazine are brilliant works of art.
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POEM By Drason Zhang
Poem, Poem What to write? How does one create A poem so perfect It’s like asking How to create A new world Filled with life It’s like wondering What’s the point Of the universe? You never find out It’s like asking Why? How? To a person Who can’t hear you Poem, Poem, What to write? A poem so perfect That you’ll never forget ✍
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HITLER’S DAUGHTER By Mukul Rajwaar
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ONE SIDE ONLY By Sally Kim and Soye Jung
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ONCE WAS A TREE By Gabby Abando
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THE BEETLE By Alex Biggs
Illustration by Evan Sim
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A TREE By Mina Kang
A thin tree, Weak and frail, Like a lost pup, Lost and lonely. Pale. The tree stands alone Like a candle Shivering in the cold. The chilling wind blows, Little buds hold still. In the later warm spring, It stands stoically. Dancing Its beautiful flowers Once tiny buds Bloom brightly like luminescent stars. As it sends sweet scents, The petals shower. The tree stands. Alone. �
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COLOR By Evan Sim
Stressed. My brother, George. I called you When I lost you When you lost me. Holding me tightly Depressed. My brother, George. I love you When you were born When you doodle on my books When you cry When you lose me My brother, George. ✍
Mirrors Mimicking all Learning to be the same But it will be their downfall True color hides deep within Deep beneath the skin It’s itching to escape Burning bright red It longs to reshape
TOMORROW, THEY STORMED THE TEMPLES
Color It is like the dying head of a matchstick No longer burning But eternally lit. ✍
By Noah Jon
MY BROTHER, GEORGE
One day the stormtroopers will storm the temples They will say we were corrupt madmen Buried under greed, violence, and power Next to starfighters, temples, credits, and wealth. They will find our lightsabers, and think them to be deadly weapons
By Jenny Kim Stressed. My brother, George. I called you When I lost you When you lost me. Holding me tightly Depressed. My brother, George.
The history books will talk about stories untold About legends of defeated monsters and conquered worlds. Our robes will be displayed in glass cases Named caretakers of death. We were buried under the chaos of the galaxy
I love you When you were born When you doodle on my books When you cry When you lose me My brother, George.
Like a grain of sand buried under dirt. We were the Jedi, a story untold And you will never forget it. ✍
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FIRST IMPRESSIONS
Buried under layers of depression
By Stephanie Cheng
By Jing Jing Yang Inspired by “The Future Ancients” by Luka Lesson
A first meeting. My simple, subtle greeting. Their first impressions, A disappointed feeling.
They will find us buried under layers of depression,
Like it's a favor. Finding time to savor Poisoning good impressions Causing thoughts to waver.
Next to our discarded ambitions, desires, dreams, and happiness towards life. They will say that we were stupid and foolish, giving up and losing faith too easily,
Causing the incident I tried to prevent, Wasn’t my intent. Though I wanted to be friends, They weren’t content.
That we never had a real future or a real life, just a time where we would finally meet death. The future ancients will find the apartment blocks and think that our rooms were prison cells,
First impressions, When my self-esteem lessened. A slip of my tongue It was clear this was destined. ✍
That the giant, colorless living room was actually a torture room. They wouldn’t realize that not everything is as it seems,
Billions of repetitive objects the same color, shape, and size.
BLUE
The history books will say, “how they managed to live like this is still a mystery”,
By Sally Kim Blue sweeps beside the sharks swaying in the deep ocean.
We weren’t happy and we weren’t sad: we were emotionless, unable to tell between love and hatred.
Blue is a monster that makes you melancholy and depressed.
They will display our laptops and smartphones, naming them “the reason of Their fall”,
Blue goes whoosh, out with the wind when the gray clouds come to rule the sky.
They were the mystery elements that killed the people before them.
Blue settles into bluebirds that twirl and dance happily under the sun.
Or maybe they weren’t, for every piece of evidence is hidden beneath the sorrow,
Blue can also happen to be precious, from clear water to stunning diamonds.
The future ancients would never realize that not everything is as it seems.
Blue smells like ripen blueberries that make your tongue saccharine and sour. ✍
--Anonymous ✍
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Once again I try to escape, But as a mighty foot stomps right on my horrified face,
WHERE I’M FROM
I screech for help. Day by day, I get older and older and start tearing apart. ✍
MY GRANDMA
By Andrew Wang I’m from cool, crisp air, Rainy days, And soft 100% cotton sweaters. I’m from bell chimes, The jubilant quacking of ducks as they drift down streams,
By Michelle Lian
And I’m from blue raspberry flavored Icees.
When I go to grandma’s house, I would play outside in the neighborhood. Swinging on the hammock, And running around chasing my dog.
I’m from the smell of Walmart, I’m from thunderstorms, And grass-stained socks.
When I go to grandma’s house, There is always food ready for me. Chicken, beef, pork, and noodles, Sometimes even my favorite.
I’m from coyotes, I’m from jet lagged afternoons. I’m from screeching cicadas, Metal drinking fountains.
When I go to grandma’s house, There would always be flowers in her backyard, Blossoming into blossoms. Colorful as butterflies, Floating in the soft sweet breeze of summer.
I’m from Barney The Dinosaur, Damp wood chips, I’m from “Hey diddle diddle” And I’m from 13-hour plane rides. ✍
THE RUG
When I go to grandma’s house, We will always play poker. It is a family tradition, And the losing team has to crawl, Under our dining table. When I go to grandma’s house, There will be nervous giggling, Joyful shouting and lovely laughter When I go to grandma’s house, I would play outside in the neighborhood. Swinging on the hammock, And running around chasing my dog. I love you grandma. ✍
By Thea Jakobi Lying in my small corner, I hear thunderous footsteps coming closer. Stomp, Stomp!
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Besides being a military wife, she raised 5 children.
MY ROOM
Made clothes from scratch for her only daughter— My mother Katharine, and cut her sons hair by herself. She got older and came to live with her daughter who had 3 “little angels”. Left babysitting them one day,
By Thea Jakobi
She locked herself in the bathroom.
Inspired by Joe Powning
Yelling to the other side of the door, To my 2 mischievous older sisters,
My personal space, Of peace and stillness.
“My children were never like this.” When getting our hair done,
Making me feel at home, Giving me comfort and security.
We would yell “o bachan”, Scaring the hairdressing who ultimately
My personal space, Sizable and cozy.
thought, We were putting a curse on her. Not knowing that we were just calling for
The breathtaking view of a spectacular sunset, Over the lake. Giving me the freedom I need.
our Grandmother in Japanese. My Grandmother valued education,
My personal space, White and turquoise walls.
She was also very frugal. It was only expected, After living off so little due to the war ,
Beaming happily at my room, realizing how lucky I am, to have such a wonderful space! ✍
That caused her to drop out of school as a teenager. Her name was Fumiko Mary, Taira was her maiden name
おばあちゃん (o bāchan)
A Samurai family name. Taira, Sakai and Haruka, Each of her grandkids middle names for myself and my sisters Were given to us to honor the Japanese side of our family.
By Christy Ellis
She adored her 9 grandchildren, Was especially close to her 3 “little
My Grandmother is Japanese. Right after WW2, Married my Barbadian Grandfather who grew up in Brooklyn, And served in the U.S. Military.
angels”. Though she would not be o bachan, If not for when her little 2 year old granddaughter, Would trick her to get out of her stroller.
She was lucky and did not get disowned. She got a job as a driver, But the funny thing is, She didn’t know how to drive. And to this day, she still can’t drive.
And sighing my o bachan would say, “You know, my children were never like this.” ✍
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MY GRANDFATHER By Sophia Gonzalez
Nothing special Until colorful smiles Of red, orange and yellow Use worn out paintbrushes Filled with bright paints and dyes Splash their blissful minds Creating a long lasting memory Forever on the wall And in their hearts. ✍
My Grandfather Grew up in the outback of Australia Riding horses and feeding cows Married to my grandmother Ellie Still married Still in love My grandfather went to a good school Always quizzing me on my Chinese Always saying to me In order to have good life must know how to drive manual and automatic car They don't teach that in school His name is Erwin Hanan The sweetest man you’ll meet Big hugs and kisses come from him But until I go to visit Australia He will keep calling me to see if I’m still practicing my Chinese Send presents for birthdays But when I do visit, he will always say In order to have good life must know how to drive manual and automatic car They don't teach that in school. ✍
INVENTIONS By Davy Zeng A seed falls in the forest, unnoticed. Slowly it pokes out through the crust, But soon it’s buried in mud and dirt Undaunted, it puts in lots more effort, Finally it breaks out with much discomfort. Sunlight shines in, all is good, Suddenly, around it stood, Many other sprouts, all fighting, It struggles on, day or night, Rain or shine it uses all its might, It slowly begins to take some shape, One, two, three, four green leaves, And is that a flower I see?
THE WALL OF MEMORIES
Here over flies a bumble bee, So long after we’ve begun, The mission now is almost done, With its leaves now all unfurled Now it’s time to show the world. ✍
By Anna Kaplan A dreary, grey Cement-covered wall, Blending in With its dull surroundings Two dusty trees Windows cracked and withered Grass drained of color
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My Favorite Monday, Friday, Things Sunday
By Rachel Peterson
By Chaewon Mun
Wind, water, rain and snow, But of these four if you must know, I love water the most as it’s relaxing like music So mesmerizing and confusing and classic. In the setting sun it glows As slowly away from the shore it flows. But most of all I love to see A dolphin jumping high for me. Wind comes next because it’s cold And it will never be controlled, Wild and free Seeing all that it can see Invisible and very shy, It can lift you up to touch the sky. The other two, the rain and snow I do not like as much, you know So when they fall down from the sky I greet them with a thoughtful sigh. ✍
Monday disease, incurable disease Oh, even the sun is dark
No time to OTL D-day for essay A word I wrote is “Sorry” You know how it feels Fortunate day Rock and Roll
FRUSTRATION
Impossible to cry Day I waited for four days Awesome
By Jared Murphy
You get the reward for working four days
When I reach up for the stars, I catch hold of the sun. But instead of feeling proud of it, I simply feel outdone.
Still happy…
My brain just can’t comprehend When it should take a break; Even though it knows that this Is more than it can take.
Nervous now
Until night
D-1 for test
Due to this unhelpful trait, I’m often filled with dread. Too bad perfectionism chose To rear its ugly head! ✍
Ah, no time to study You know what I’ll get ✍ 19
Hairy Wolf, Voodoo Beans, Lost Slipper, and little men By Hannah Jon There she stumbles, clad in red,
Her wishes answered that very night,
Prancing down with a basket of bread.
But loses a slipper on the returning
Wide-eyed, innocent, and gullible.
plight.
Leering, comes a hairy wolf, Boy, she doesn’t have a clue,
Being fairest of them all,
Just goes along as if right on queue.
Led the other to a quaking bawl, Hunted, stalked, and plotted cold,
No food,
Yet she eluded falling dead,
No wealth,
And sought little men instead.
Just a pathetic cow, Trade her for some voo-doo beans,
From straying girls,
What does he get?
To princesses in golden curls,
Nothing but a reprimand…
And little boys with adventures in
And a towering stalk of green.
mind, All seeking for a happy end,
Scrubbing, sweeping, mopping all day,
And of course,
She doesn’t ever get a say,
As every tale ends with joyous
Yearning to attend a ball,
laughter. ✍
The Ancient Innovations By Anita Ding Inspired by “The Future Ancients” by Luka Lesson They will find us buried under the crushed chip bags, squished soda bottles, and crumpled candy wrappers.
The history books will say we were shallow and silly. They will put our junk food in a museum and call it poison.
Next to the forgotten Facebook posts, irrelevant Instagram pics, pointless Pinterest boards, and silly Skype messages.
Next to clips of blaring pop music labeled as noise. And pieces of our money with the title: their God.
They will say we were the dumb ones. With a plaque that reads “Machine Age: destroyed by their superficiality, greed, laziness, gluttony, and obsession with technology”.
They will find a car and think it was a toy. They’ll scorn our shopping malls, houses, and schools.
Buried under the deflated chip bags, squished soda bottles, and crumpled candy wrapper. ✍
While they stand among the wreckage 3000 years later.
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THE WAFFLE PLANET
Acrostic Poems
By Jazzy Alireza
By Hyo Jin Kim
A little world,
School
alone in the vast universe.
Sunday night I sob A Clock sings tick-tock How can I stop the clock? Oh no, I didn’t finish my homework Oh no, the school bus is arriving Last day of my life
We don’t know what lives there, but I sure do. This planet has nothing but rooms. rooms with the stunning scent of pastry. This planet is devoured, but is replaced every morning. Wait a minute…
Summer
It makes sense.
Sweat soaks my shirt. Useless sunscreen My skin roasts as time passes My dry mouth begs for cold ice cream Everlasting heat until the sun disappears Resting in bed with a fan, heaven.
It is the life of my waffles. One is sacrificed to start my day. This universe is the oven nebula And the magic of the waffle planet is reborn for all eternity. ✍
One can poke and Prod
Winter The
Wind wails wildly in anger,
Interrupting my good night sleep Never stopping, the wind wails Tears fall from the night sky Every street painted pure white. Roar of angry wind still full fill the night. ✍
By Angela Wei One can poke and prod, And fill in charts, collect data. Control – that’s what you want, isn’t it? And control, you can have. Dig deep into Earth and rip out her heart, If you so wish; Keep that in a lab, Behind bars, lock and store. Search the mysteries of life; but razing it to the ground? You can’t have everything, you know. ✍
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My room A barren desert A busy city A cubical of peace A war zone A prison cell A free country An entrance to the afterlife Vital and alive ✍
My ROom By Alex Biggs Inspired by Joe Powning
Before I Leave
My room A barren desert Nothing, no one It sits, staring until the night The boxes of paraphernalia waiting To be touched My room A lively bustling city People, possessions everywhere Crowded and noisy Never stopping
By Arden Wang Before I leave, Take me to meet the person I used to be. Who hasn’t grown out of the term “baby”, Who secretly loves the way darkness is calming, Who is now gone, After meeting you.
My room A zone of peace Peach trees Nothing to stress about It’s an everlasting quiet atmosphere, Harmony
Before I leave, Take me into the future. What colors would our bedroom walls be? What time would we fall asleep? What would our bed feel like, With and without our conversations?
My room A war zone Nothing ever quiets down The fists pound against my back CRACK! It breaks
Before I leave, Take me to the jokes you’ve told. When a small spelling mistake prompts an eruption of laughter, When the tears are nothing but a sign of happiness, When out of the corner of my eye, I can watch you stare into me.
My room My prison from the outside world My own cell It's a solitary domicile of concealment My room A Free Country You can do whatever you want Its trash and organization Dirty and Clean Free
Before I leave, Take me to our secret spot. Where our initials are carved deeply into the rock, Where the heart represents “forever”, Where nothing can stop me, From trying to prove you wrong.
My room An entrance to the afterlife A zone of skeletons Its bones everywhere Here and there Death
Before I leave, Take me to the first place I saw you. Why couldn’t I forget about you? Why didn’t I walk the other way? Why did you have to say hello, When we both knew there was going to be a goodbye? ✍
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Down in our old home, bought and sold. Lies an album full of dusty old memories.
Where I’m From
Snippets of the past lie there, A little old, but still fresh in my eyes And every new memory added is meaningful,
By Nathan Zhang
Not the photo, but the love, hope, strength, and compassion that have gone inside.
I’m from the packed suitcases, the roaring sound of
Since that’s what binds together my family. ✍
jet turbines, and the cabin-crew’s announcements that I’ve heard a thousand times.
Opportunities
I am from Harris Teeter and Sam’s Club, where memories of shopping on Sundays still remain. I am from Panera Bread, broccoli and cheese soup in a bread bowl, and the smell of Chinese food, especially my grandmother’s steamed buns.
By Fiona Hodges
You call them mistakes,
I am from eyeglasses and the garden in the backyard.
I call them opportunities.
I am from messy lockers and scattered books on my table.
Opportunities to teach others, So they don’t do the same thing.
I am from Brunson Elementary and the feel of mulch under my feet in the playground.
Tripping, talking back, tattling, Train to tape yourself back together.
I am from moving to a totally new place, where you miss your friends but there’s nothing you can do.
Think of them as opportunities, To understand that things sometimes go wrong.
I am from one of the most polluted cities in the most populous country in the world, which has surprisingly started to feel like home.
Because they do, You can blame yourself.
I am from “Holy Moly” and “喔切”, two phrases that you hear a lot at my home.
But don’t maim yourself, Learn to tame yourself.
I am from Minecraft and TF2, games that have become so addictive that I was almost consumed by them.
Because if you learn from them, You’ll prosper. So proclaim yourself, A forgiver of faults.
I’m from the books, which are doors to wonder, secrets, information, imagination, fantasies, living skeletons, and worlds you’ve never even dreamed about.
Name yourself, Emperor of errors.
I’m from the paranoids, the people who are worried about danger that is never there.
They’re opportunities to learn, About yourself others.
I’m from the bookworms, the people who would have their nose in a book all day, rather than do social networking or gossip, and ultimately become great writers.
How things work, how they’ll change, How they won’t, and everything else.
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You call them mistakes, I call them opportunities.
Bullies? I call them opportunities.
Mocks you, hurts you, embarrasses you, pushes you back.
Opportunities to grow thick skin, So that when harder blows come.
They’re all opportunities. ✍
Balance Beam
You’ll have a polished plan, You’ll be practiced. Perfect, Prepared. To show off your strength, Opportunities to become better.
By Isa Pan
Examples of how not to act, First-hand displays of the damage. Hateful habits bring about, They are opportunities to help an innocent equal.
Don’t cover up so much. No one likes a prude. No, that’s too revealing. You look like a hooker.
Defenseless, Vulnerable.
Yes, study hard! Stupid girls are despicable. No, why are you so bookish? Get a social life!
Save them, set them free, From the torture of what you call bullies.
Smile more! It’s not nice to frown. No, how are you so shallow? Stop laughing at everything.
And I call opportunities, You call them changes, But they’re really only opportunities. Opportunities to adjust, Get used to different ways.
Take heed to your appearance. Leave good impressions. No, you're trying too hard! Is all that makeup necessary?
For although new isn’t always better, You’ll be a controlled shedder.
Be strong. Stand your ground. Your opinion matters. No, stop being so defensive. Rebuking jabs won’t get you anywhere.
When it comes to the tears, Of loss and replacement. Like scars, just wetter, Opportunities to explore. Find out more, Learn what you deplore.
Embrace your appearance. You were born this way. No, that confidence is arrogance. Get over yourself.
Accept that you were torn from the past, Before you let out the roar.
Be demure, but show that you’re open. Be courteous, but don’t be so priggish. Be independent, but you still need a man. Be yourself, but not if you’re hideous.
Of fury and regret, Because at the core. They’re all just opportunities.
Dear society, I don’t like your rules. Who says that defying them makes us fools? You say you’re caring and safe, but now it seems I no longer wish to walk on the balance beam. ✍
Opportunities disguised, In everything that annoys you, scares you, rips you, troubles you,
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Do you know the falling speed of the shooting stars?
WHEN I FALL
In a blink of eye, the light is gone I wish I could fall and turn to a halo that surrounds you. When I fall, the Earth will still rotate and tides will still rise. ✍
By Jenny Huang
As The Wind Blows
Do you know the meaning of tears? The faint life of humanity, I ponder. I see black and white in the crystal clear mirror. When I fall, the sun rises beyond the blue yonder.
By Bella Yang
Behind the dark is the light,
As the wind blows,
I am a boat without oars.
The cloud flows,
Torment, threaten, threnody.
Right above my head.
As the wind blows, Do you know the falling speed of the rotten leaves?
I raise my arm, Reaching for the cloud.
The speed of chasing clouds. I wish I could be the light that sparks around you.
It runs away from me, Like chasing a dog.
When the planets fall, so shall I.
As the wind blows,
Behind the shadow is the sunlight,
Its sadness cries, Its madness darkens.
I am a tree without branches. Abhorrent, alone, abominable.
As the wind blows,
The cloud flows, High as a hero flying,
Do you know the meaning of tears?
Wide as the world.
Soulful tears drop down like wilted flowers. I see broken eyes like twisted wheat.
As the wind blows, the cloud flows. ✍
When I fall, the mound is full of bellflower.
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The Season of Snow
By Henry Ting
would be just the same. But it’s different, of course; I look back, and say to myself how foolish I was to think that middle school would be just like before. ✍
A Dark World
The season of snow A blank page in the landscape Winter has arrived The thaw has begun As the cold turns into life Cold turns to freshness
By Samantha Grulich and Siri Cavallerano
Classes are dismissed Freshness morphs into warmness Spring becomes summer Leaves falling from trees Nature withering away The cycle of life ✍
I had a dream, which was not at all a dream. The sun was burning, and the stars glistening. The mysterious earth open in the moonless air.
Middle School
Morn came and men died in the dread of this, their desolation. All hearts were chilled into a selfish prayer for the food. The people lived in agony, and bodies were burned for food. Men were gathered around a fire to look once more into their world.
By Angela Wei
Happy were those who died.
In fifth grade,
A fearful life was all the world contained. ✍
There was no popular; No crying Over best, best friends that left you Stranded, alone On the wide, empty street.
My life in 14 words
While they take off; Surrounded by millions of followers Yearning for their attention, like dogs Looking frantically For their owner.
By Alyssa Adria
You enjoy the company of them, Laughing along with them, Thinking that middle school Would be just The same.
School is crazy when I’m with my serial killer friends. Don’t tell them that... ✍
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CATALYSTS OF DESTRUCTION By Brandon Li In the future, they will find our corpses sticking out under rivers of wires,
Next to a mountain of smartphones, computers, calculators, and cables.
They will say we were too infatuated by our many devices,
Our civilization babies suckling on robot mothers.
Their history books will tell of innovators like Bill Gates; entrepreneurs like Steve Jobs;
Celebrated for giving billions access to technology.
We are the masters of our fate, will be the catalysts of our own destruction.
When they find our schools, they will dub them the “beginning of the end”,
Constantly warned by the books; by the likes of Asimov, Wilson, and Meyer.
We haven’t listened, nor will we ever.
We are the masters of our fate, the catalysts of our own destruction,
Buried under our thirst for evolution and advancement. ✍
I was Dying Slowly By Rachel Kim
My bed, My ongoing peacefulness, My heaven from a disastrous day.
My bed, My space, My personal relaxing area,
It was dark and placid, Except for me, everyone was sleeping peacefully.
My ship of endless dreams,
Like putting metal to a cup of acid, I was dying slowly.
My responsibility,
It was gloomy night, Maybe it’s just twilight.
My block of space from a disastrous world.
Stars were glowing beautifully, But I was dying slowly.
My bed. ✍
My heaven,
Raindrops were falling down to my shoulder, I was walking soullessly. Death was coming closer and closer, I was dying slowly. ✍
My Bed
It Will Rain By Emily Qin and Tulia Fargis
By Mynn Yau Love is a losing game, My bed, My space, My block of peace from the hectic days.
Since U been gone. Bad romance, Perfect timing. Can you hear me, Say something What now?
My bed, My ship of endless dreams, My harbor of fantasies Blocking the chaos from the world.
Ending page. ✍
You Won’t Our Message Believe Why to the I’m Late ! Future By Joanne Teng
By Pierce Tan Inspired by “The Future Ancients” by Luka Lesson
I was late because I spent half hour rolling on the bed, half hour brushing my teeth because I wanted my whole mouth to shine. A whole hour washing my hair because it was stuck, a whole hour drinking 5 glasses of milk and eating 10 eggs.
They will find us under a bomb shelter.
I used another hour making up the homework I didn’t do.
They will say we were drowned in greed for power.
40 minutes sharpening all my pencils and I’m telling you I have 100 pencils! I also spent 10 minutes walking down the stairs at my home. We have 20 floors! 20 minutes walking to school, 20 more minutes walking back to home and picking up my backpack,
Next to the burnt buildings and rubble.
In that our civilization was a disturbing dystopia. The history books will say we were hounds. 10000 acres of land razed down to charred dirt. This civilization could have been better. If only they had seen what corruption did to people. They could have saved themselves, but went the wrong path.
Then another 20 minutes because I had to walk to school again.
When they find a statue.
I’m going to add up all the time for you teacher,
They will say it was the person who brought devastation to this land.
Which is 5 hours and 50 minutes.
When they find us buried under the bomb shelters.
Now I’m done talking.
They will know we went too far.
Oh yeah!
And they will know we should have listened.
And I spent 10 more minutes listing all reasons why I’m late for school and teacher!
To those who gave us the chance to open our eyes. ✍
Now it makes it 6 hours. Why do you just won’t believe me, teacher! ✍
THE DRAGON By Bryn Dettman The deadly dragon breathes his flames! Knights and maidens he hungrily maims! Through the sky His fearsome cry For my bloody death he aims!
Suddenly, the demon pursues me! Only the empty forest can hear my plea! His enormous wings And the terror he brings He corners me as I desperately try to flee!
Oh no! It’s too late! I’m surrounded by heat! Oh no! I’m dead! There’s no chance for retreat! His gaping jaws His razor claws Goodbye world! I’ve met my defeat! ✍
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THE The Workroom STUDENT’S PLIGHT
By Eric Liu Inspired by Joe Powning The workroom, a bundle of landfills jumbled
By Casper Suen
together.
The workroom, a place of memories of thought
The sun gleams, warm and bright
and creativity.
The clouds hang, soft and white The cold fingers of winter gently stroke the grass
The workroom, a place where man can explode
And tarnish its color to a rusty brass
in emotion of tears flowing through the center of the faucets from which God gave us when
I long to venture and climb the willow trees
he created man.
And perceive the gentle breeze To frolic through the open glades
The workroom, a room from which geniuses are created and inventors are made.
And trample on the shriveled brown blades
The workroom, the palace of wonders and
But now I sit inside and ponder,
questions to guide man to the end of the
The question of why I’m still writing
world through thought, ingenuity, knowledge, and wisdom.
While I’d much rather go outside and wander. The sun is shining warm and bright,
The workroom, the connection where God is
And now you understand a student’s plight. ✍
able to inspire man to do great things. The workroom, the place where I can spot every inch and tell a unique story.
My workroom. ✍
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THE TWELVE DAYS OF VALENTINE’S DAY By Jenny Song
On Valentines Day my boyfriend gave to me
A fat dog in a fat flower On Valentines Day my boyfriend gave to me Nine dead computers Eight random posters Seven annoying parrots Six purple lipsticks Five pink limos Four ugly stuffed toys Three Venus Flytraps Two Guylian chocolates and A fat dog in a fat flower
A fat dog in a fat flower On Valentines Day my boyfriend gave to me Two Guylian chocolates and A fat dog in a fat flower On Valentines Day my boyfriend gave to me Three Venus Flytraps Two Guylian chocolates and A fat dog in a fat flower
On Valentines Day my boyfriend gave to me Ten red roses Nine dead computers Eight random posters Seven annoying parrots Six purple lipsticks Five pink limos Four ugly stuffed toys Three Venus Flytraps Two Guylian chocolates and A fat dog in a fat flower
On Valentines Day my boyfriend gave to me Four ugly stuffed toys Three Venus Flytraps Two Guylian chocolates and A fat dog in a fat flower On Valentines Day my boyfriend gave to me Five pink limos Four ugly stuffed toys Three Venus Flytraps Two Guylian chocolates and A fat dog in a fat flower
On Valentines Day my boyfriend gave to me Eleven rotten Easter eggs Ten red roses Nine dead computers Eight random posters Seven annoying parrots Six purple lipsticks Five pink limos Four ugly stuffed toys Three Venus Flytraps Two Guylian chocolates and A fat dog in a fat flower
On Valentines Day my boyfriend gave to me Six purple lipsticks Five pink limos Four ugly stuffed toys Three Venus Flytraps Two Guylian chocolates and A fat dog in a fat flower On Valentines Day my boyfriend gave to me Seven annoying parrots Six purple lipsticks Five pink limos Four ugly stuffed toys Three Venus Flytraps Two Guylian chocolates and A fat dog in a fat flower
On Valentines Day my boyfriend gave to me Twelve game cards Eleven rotten eggs Ten red roses Nine dead computers Eight random posters Seven annoying parrots Six purple lipsticks Five pink limos Four ugly stuffed toys Three Venus Flytraps Two Guylian chocolates and A fat dog in a fat flower �
On Valentines Day my boyfriend gave to me Eight random posters Seven annoying parrots Six purple lipsticks Five pink limos Four ugly stuffed toys Three Venus Flytraps Two Guylian chocolates and
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ODE TO FANDOMS By Gabby Abando
Ode to Me By Vivian Wu
Ode to my fandoms,
Ode to Me, Who cannot help being the best, And is extremely vain.
Where I feel I truly belong, Where I could belt out a random book quote And all my fellow fangirls would simply chime along
Ode to Me, So wrapped up in yourself, And ignoring everything around you.
Ode to my fandoms, Oh the books I’ve read I’ve read them everywhere
Ode to Me, Who likes to read, And do the same things I do.
From the library To my bed
Ode to Me, Who likes the same thing as I do, And that makes you perfecter than perfect.
Ode to my fandoms And my beautiful OTP, You two make me jump around my room, Screaming and squealing with glee
Ode to Me, You are me, And that makes both of us AMAZING.
Ode to my fandoms, These stories drive me insane
Ode to Me, We are in each other’s heart, And that makes us each other’s GOD! ✍
The intensity that I fangirl over my books Is almost inhumane Ode to my fandoms, To all those that hate From foolish old muggles To ignorant pansycakes Ode to my fandoms, My parents say I’m crazy Because I don’t think adventuring from page to page Should be considered lazy Ode to my fandoms, These book series’ are the best They all call me mental because I’m simply Obsessed ✍
33
34
ODE TO ITUNES By Sally Kim and Soye Jung
Ode to iTunes, Thank you for the music. Am I wrong? Ode to iTunes, Say you love me, Don’t Let it go. Ode to iTunes It’s my birthday, I got you, Right here, Sing. Ode to iTunes, Shake it off. Rather be Happy Animals. Ode to iTunes, I will Stay high, Counting stars. Ode to iTunes I will never let you down, Sooner or Never Delete you Ode to iTunes Thank you for the music I love you ✍
Illustration by Roanna Zou
35
ODE TO MY BED By Elizabeth Zhou
Ode to my bed
Ode to my bed I only care I only wish For your comfort For your warmth
Your blankets So warm Hugs me tight Keeps me safe
Ode to my bed As the sun leaves I come to you And I will stay Until the sun comes back ✍
Ode to my bed Your pillows So soft Strokes my hair Kisses my cheeks Ode to my bed Your sheets So clean Stays close to me As I cuddle in it Ode to my bed You make me feel Oh, so very warm You make me feel Oh, so very safe Ode to my bed Once I am close to you I know that I am in peace For you comfort me when I’m sad And cuddle me when I’m glad Ode to my bed So colorful So bright The colors of The rainbow shine on you Ode to my bed So dark So mysterious The colors of Midnight stars shimmer on you Ode to my bed It never matters How you look As long as you’re there As long as you’re comfortable
Illustration by Claire Lee
36
37
ODE TO SASSAFRAS By Jenny Song
Ode to Sassafras Who is my dog And makes my heart dance Ode to Sassafras You are so cute Even when you do an ugly prance Ode to Sassafras You love our treats I feel heartbroken to leave you Ode to Sassafras I go to Adoption Shops But NOTHING can replace you Ode to Sassafras How you LOVED to run You may be faster than Usain Bolt Ode to Sassafras, How you love me opening the window when we’re in the car Your fur blows back like a lightning bolt Ode to Sassafras You are my heart and my universe My love for you is like the forever lasting stars! ✍
Illustration by Andrew Wang
38
ODE TO MUSIC By Madeleine Yang
Ode to music, It is noisy, It is quiet. Ode to music, The sadness, The happiness. Ode to music, Rap, blue, Pop and live. Ode to music, Piano, flute, Guitar and drum. Ode to music, It is noisy, It is quiet. ✍
Illustration by Stephanie Cheng
ODE TO POLLUTION By Nathan Zhang
Oh, pollution Thank you for keeping us inside, Preventing the wicked Physical Activity to arise For brightening the world with your lovely grey skies And freshening the air with the high AQI. Look at the wonderful PM 2.5 particles in the air Common in China, yet in America they’re rare And you have a delightful smoky scent, That makes me let go of all my hate and resent. Oh, Pollution, I wouldn’t know what I would do without you. ✍ Illustration by Claire Lee
39
Ode to Books
Ode to Games
By Annika Deshpande
By Philip Ma
Ode to Books, How rich you are, Filled with knowledge and information. Ode to Fantasy, Where dragons and fairies exist, Where you could do anything you want, And save the world. Ode to books, Everyone loves you, Adults read you, As well as babies too! Ode to Nonfiction, You can get lots of information, Reading Facts maybe really fun! Ode to books, People right you everyday, They right about themselves.
Ode to Books The greatest thing of all! ✍
Ode to Games, They make me happy, On the cloudiest of days. Ode to Games, They give me a reason, To keep on playing. Ode to Games, They give me an excuse, When I have to do chores. Ode to Games, They teach me very, very, Pointless skills. Ode to Games. ✍
ANGEL’S FLIGHT By Olivia Rui
I rushed along the muddy banks, shielding what was left of the dry food from the rain. The hem of my dress was splattered with mud, but I was too excited to care. Once every two years, we would watch the angels descend from heaven. It was called the Angel’s Flight. The day before the Angel’s Flight, we would prepare for it. My mom would kill me if I were late. I pushed open the door and announced, “I’m here! On time!” I staggered over to the table and dropped the baskets of soggy bread. My mom looked up from combing my little sister’s hair and looked at me. “Courtney! What did you do to your dress? You know we can’t afford much.” I stared down at my muddy dress. It was torn in quite a few places, baring my legs and the mud that had hardened. I smiled apologetically. My mom shook her head and smiled slightly. “You’ll never learn. Go get washed up and leave your dress outside the bathroom door.” I laughed and ran into the bathroom, undressing quickly. I opened the door to a tiny slit, and threw my dress out. After washing quickly, I wrapped a towel around myself and walked out. My mom had already prepared a dress for me. The dress was silky and blue—it had no sleeves, just an elastic band that was supposed to go under my arms. The waist of my dress had a thin belt that went around it, that hung all the way past my knees after I tied it. The hem of my dress had two layers of ruffles. The dress was quite tight fitting, and looked pretty good on me. I spun around, enjoying my brief moment of beauty. I looked in the mirror, and pushed a strand of hair out of my face. My hair was mouse brown, cut to my waist. I had one single highlight in my hair. It It was fiery red. Right now it was glinting in the dim light. I quickly hid it under my layers of hair, for it stood out
too much. My mom came from behind me. She looked at me and grinned. “You look quite nice. Better than last time, in the least.” Mom giggled and went back to chopping vegetables. I sighed. She was referring to the last time the angels came, when my dress looked like it went through a tornado. I’ll put in details later. I turned away from the mirror, and slipped out of the dress and into my cotton nightgown. Sweeping my eyes across the room, I decided it was safe to sneak out the back door. Mom was still chopping up vegetables in the kitchen; I could hear her. My little sister was probably playing with her toys, and my dad was lying on the sofa. I opened the back door, and stepped out into the cool night air. Fireflies lit up the path. I climbed up the mountain that over looked the sacred valley. It looked breathtaking, even at night. This is where the angels would come tomorrow. The moon cast a watery light on the tall grass. Crickets chirped, and fireflies danced around. The stars blinked in the sky. No one was allowed on the valley, only on the tall mountains around it. That’s where I was now. I laid down at the very top of one of the mountains. The warm night wind blew my hair. Tomorrow I would see the angels. Please let tomorrow come faster, I wished silently. A hand tapped me on the head, I already knew who it was. “Mia. It’s not going to work.” I sat up, and saw my best friend laughing. “Oh, I knew that. It’s just so funny to see you up here all alone, in deep thought.” Mia laughed again. I swatted at her. She was also in her nightgown. “Aren’t you excited about the angels? I mean, last time we saw them was… so long ago. I can’t wait!” Mia danced around me. “I know!” I jumped up and grabbed Mia’s hand. We danced and laughed until we were too exhausted to even move. I flopped down on the ground and announced, “Well, it’s late. I’m going home.” “Yeah, me too.” We walked down the mountain together and said goodbye. I quietly snuck in the house, relieved to see that no one noticed I was gone. I climbed up the stairs silently and walked into my bedroom. I closed the door behind me and walked over to the window.
With my head resting in the palms of my hands, I put my elbows on the windowsill and gazed out the window. It was such a beautiful night, but what I was going to witness tomorrow would be a hundred times better. I sat up, and almost hit my head on the low ceiling of my bedroom. The sunshine was streaming through the window. I leaped out of bed, my spirits high. Running all the way to the bathroom, I quickly brushed my hair. As it fell down to my waist in brown curls, my red highlight stuck out. Holding my breath, I tucked it back behind all the rest of my hair. I ran back upstairs and put on my silky blue dress. I rummaged through my closet until I found a pair of blue slippers; I put them on and looked at my reflection in my mirror. I looked… better than most days. “Mom! I’m ready!” I yelled as I thundered down the staircase. “Courtney, honey, how many times do I have to tell you to keep it down?” My mom was putting my sister’s hair into a ponytail. I shrugged. “Ok Stephanie, you’re ready.” Mom patted my little sister and waved her away, then she motioned for me to stand in front of her. Mom tugged at my hair and pulled out all the knots. “Are you excited?” “Excited? I’m literally trying not to bounce up and down with excitement right now.” I smiled. “Good, good.” Was that worry I heard in Mom’s voice? I was too excited to be sure. I waved and ran out the door. The sun was already shining its golden rays down on the ground. All the mud last night had dried. The village I lived in seemed quite peaceful—it was in the countryside, away from the big noisy cities. The population was about a few hundred, and we all lived in two story cement buildings. There was no pavement where I lived, only dirt and grass. Mia walked towards me, looking equally prepared and adventurous. “I’ll race you to the top of the hill!” She yelled at me and took off. “Hey, no fair! You got a head start!” I laughed and ran after her. I still beat her to the top of the hill; I was a fairly fast runner. I collapsed on to the ground and grinned. “Nice try, you’re never going to beat me.”
“Oh, I don’t care about that. Now we’ve got the best seats.” Mia sat down and smiled. I looked around. We did have the best seats; the top of the hill was the closest you could get to the Angel’s Flight. Of course, there would always be people sneaking closer. When I spotted mom dad, I waved them over. The crowd was already starting to gather. “The best seats.” I grinned. The same worried look flashed across Dad’s face. His eyebrows screwed up together. “Maybe we should move to the back this time.” “Why?” I whined, “Last time we were at the back, and I saw nothing!” “Well, your mother, Stephanie and I will be sitting in the back.” Dad announced and scooted back until I couldn’t see him anymore. That was odd, last time Dad was so intent on sitting in the front. It was probably a parent thing. The golden glow of the sun shone even brighter, and the valley below us lit up with light. You could see dust being illuminated by the light, and it looked more like glitter. At first I heard nothing. The tall grass waved in the light breeze that had just started. Then the first angel started its descent. The angel started spinning slowly, and held a flute to its mouth. A beautiful melody came out, and two more angels spun out of the sky. Those angels played harps, adding to the simple melody of the flute. More angels descended until there was a whole orchestra of them. Then the dancing angels came down; their blond hair flowing as they danced and leaped. The whole valley was lit up with a golden glow, and the dancing angels descended until their feet were skimming the ground. I let my breath out. It was then I realized I had been holding it the whole time. Then the dancing angels walked off to the side, their hands sweeping the ground and their heads bowed. The music angels descended and landed next to the dancing angels. The music stopped for a bit. Then the angels started playing faster, and the dancing angels spun out into the middle. A strong golden beam shot out of the sky and the angel queen walked down gracefully. Her long golden robe flowed out behind her. After a few more steps, her feathered wings sprouted from her back. She took the middle of the stage and danced briefly while blowing a flute. The angel queen swept her hands in a circle,
spinning as she did so. All the dust particles froze in mid air. Then the angel queen thrust her hands upwards, above her head. The particles flew up, leaving behind a golden trail. The queen followed it, flapping her wings. The rest of the angels sprouted their wings and flew after her, their robes and hair blowing in the wind. The clouds swallowed the last bit of golden light as the last angel disappeared.
“Are angels just naturally bad?”
I was just about to leave when the clouds spread apart again. I heard Dad’s voice.
“Oh, cool. So when will these Vansolini be going back?” I shrugged like it was nothing. My dad’s eyes darted around the room, and then he continued in a whisper, “There’s no saying when. Last time they came, around a hundred years ago, almost our whole population was wiped out.”
“Courtney. Come here.” “The angels are coming down again! I want to watch!”
“No, all the people who die turn into angels. They start out good but those who are too arrogant to come down to earth with turn into Vansolini because the air in heaven will do funny things to their head. They still need to be in touch with the earth and Mother Nature.”
“Our village’s population?” “The angels won’t come down again. You come back here this instant.” The sternness in Dad’s voice didn’t surprise me, but he sounded scared. I stopped arguing and followed him to the back of the mountains. As I did so, I realized the whole crowd was moving back. Mia’s parents were dragging her back too. What was happening?
“No, the whole human population. The air up in heaven can turn you into an evil person.” My dad explained. My head was spinning in circles.
I took a deep breath. The air didn’t feel so evil inside my lungs. I looked down at my arm. There was a huge cut on it, but I felt no pain.
A thunderbolt shot out of the sky, and scorched the middle of the sacred valley. My parents started backing away, so I grabbed my sister and followed them. I saw fear in all the people’s eyes. Millions of black feathers drifted down and littered the sacred valley. Chaos broke out. People went screaming and running back home. My parents didn’t scream, but they took off. I grabbed Stephanie’s hand and ran after them. “What is going on?” I asked, slamming the door behind me. I got no reply, but my parents were scrambling around pulling down the shades and locking the windows. Walking to one window, I peeked out. I thought I saw Mia retreating into her house. Even though she lived just next door I couldn’t be sure, because it started raining hard. My parents pushed the dining table against the door, and let out their breath.
“That makes no sense.”
“Of course it makes sense. Everyone goes to heaven when the die, but those who are too arrogant to come back down to earth aren’t fit to be in heaven. So the air there is… a test. Everyone has one year to visit earth before they turn to a Vansolini, after that, you can never change back.” I heard the thunder crackling outside and the rain pattering against the windowpane. That night the whole family spent their time in the living room, never leaving each other’s sight. I fell asleep on the couch with my family crowded around me. I opened my eyes. It was pitch black. I blinked hard a few times. “Hi Courtney.” “Courtney.”
“The prophecy said that if it rained before the Angel’s Flight, the Vansolini would be coming.” Mom explained, her voice trembling. “Wait, back up. What are the Vansolini?” Mom started shivering, so Dad answered, “They are the angels who have gone bad.”
“Courtney!” Voices everywhere. I woke up. The dream was already slipping away from me. I combed my fingers through my hair, tugging at the knots. The weather outside hadn’t cleared up at all, but at least we were still safe.
The thunderstorm blasted on, and that was when I remembered. If this was all the Dark Angels doing, why didn’t I see any angels? Feeling brave, I silently pushed the dining table out of the way. I glanced behind me to make sure Mom and Dad were still sleeping, then I opened the door to a tiny crack. Suddenly, the wind blew it wide open. With much difficulty, I stepped outside and closed the door as silently as I could.
here.
The rain was so hard it immediately drenched my hair. Raindrops rolled down my face. No angels. Then I saw it. A lightning bolt struck 10 meters away from my house, creating a black spot on the wet muddy ground. A Vansolini appeared on the black spot the lighting bolt had created. He or she was facing away from me, but I saw the black metal wings with tips that were as sharp as razors. The angel’s robe was long and black, and the angel’s feet were a few centimeters off the ground.
“Uh, yes. That’s me.”
At that point, I had saw enough. I turned to go back into my house, but the door wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard I tugged at it. Having no other choice, I ran to the back of the house, my feet squelching in the mud. I looked back at the spot where the Dark Angel had been seconds ago. The angel was gone. I stepped onto the concrete path that led to the back door and was next to the water pipe. Dreading to think where the angel had went, I climbed up the slippery water pipe that led me to the roof. I was just about to pull myself up onto the roof when a Vansolini appeared. His face was long and narrow, his short black hair ruffled by the wind. I was so surprised I lost my foothold, and was only hanging by my right hand.
I heard wings flapping over to me. Behind me stood an angel with polished white wings, and her blonde hair cut to her shoulders. Instead of a long robe she wore a white business shirt and short skirt. “Courtney?” She pointed her pen at me.
“We have a lot to do. Come on.” Her British accent made it hard to understand her, but I followed her anyway. I started walking on my feet, but before I even took two steps, the angel was gone. I tried using my wings. It came to me naturally, and my wings started flapping. I could see the white feathers from the side of my eyes. I finally caught up to the angel. She held out her hand. “I’m Amy.” I shook her hand and replied. “I’m Courtney, but you already know that.” I saw Amy peering at my brown hair. I touched it self-consciously. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that most people with brown hair tend to turn into a Vansolini.” “Well, I’m not going to do that.” I said defensively. Amy shrugged and motioned for me to follow her. “So I take it you’ve seen the Angel’s Flight.”
The Vansolini hadn’t seen me. He looked right above me and out into the forest behind my house. My fingers were slipping, so I tried to swing my other arm up. Because I was exhausted from hanging off the roof for so long, my right hand slipped off before my left hand could get to the roof. I fell down, screaming, and hit my head on the hard concrete.
“Yeah, many times. Why?”
I opened my eyes to find myself sitting on clouds. The back of my head ached where I hit it on the concrete. Everywhere around me, mystical golden light was shining, no dust particles. I took a deep breath. The air didn’t feel so evil inside my lungs. I looked down at my arm. There was a huge cut on it, but I felt no pain.
“Yes. Why?” I answered. Amy, who had seemed so composed suddenly looked very flustered.
Slowly, very slowly, I stood up. “What now?” I asked out loud. I felt my vision growing blurry. So this was it. I was dead, and alone. Well, not so alone. All around me angels were flapping their shiny white wings. Then I noticed something, I was the only one with brown hair in
“Only people who have seen the Angel’s Flight will become an angel.” Amy kept on flying. I followed her. We went down a long hallway with golden light. The silence soon became unbearable, so Amy broke it: “Say, did you die today?”
“While the Vansolini were there. Oh no. This is bad. How long have you been up here?” “Up in… heaven? Well I kinda sat there for a minute or two before you found me.” Amy shook her head, and her perfect wings got ruffled. “We have to get you to your body. Now. Or else you’ll turn into a Vansolini.” Amy started flying away. I flapped hard to catch up to her and panted: “How long do I have until…”
“5 minutes. It is extremely unsafe to go into the Human World while the Vansolini are there, for you might get influenced and turn into one of them.” Amy didn’t stop for a breath. I shuddered. “So is there any chance I’ll make it back as a good angel?” “Since you’ve just died, you’ve still got some human left in you. It will make it harder for the Vansolini to influence you—and hun, don’t call us the good angels. We don’t like that. We’re the Hansolini.” Amy talked as fast as she was flying. I didn’t say anything. I followed Amy to a ring of light. Amy turned around and faced me. “This light beam will transport you to the valley. Where did you die?” “Not too far away.” I replied, beads of sweat forming on my head. Amy nodded her eyebrows were pressed together. “Eat this pill when you’ve found your dead body. Make sure to keep your hands tight on your body so it will transport back with you. It will hurt much more to bring it back, but we need to do some operating.” “Why?” I knew I was wasting precious time asking all these questions, but I had to know.
hurts to remember everything. When you’re down there, just keep a clear head, ok? I heard Amy’s voice. “Ok.” I said under my breath. I walked right up to the Vansolini. Their eyes were trained on me, making me remember every single thing form my childhood. From the life I had lost. For a split second, I felt anger. With that anger I felt the tip of my wings turning black. Keep a clear head. I blocked out the anger and grabbed my body. I was still that plain little girl with the muddy skirt. Fury rose again. I had given up this life. This life when I was still alive. Now I had to spend the rest of eternity living as an angel. I still had so many things to do. My head throbbed even more. No time to waste. One of my wings was already completely black and the other was getting close. No more anger. I grabbed the arm of my old-self and ate the pill. Pain seared through my body, not physical pain. Mental pain. Knowing that I had given up my human life. That pain. I wanted to let go of my old-self. I wanted the pain to go away. A Vansolini walked towards me. “Shut it off.” She said. I clenched my teeth and asked: “Shut what off?” The pain was creating spots in front of my eyes.
Pain seared through my body, not physical pain. Mental pain. Knowing that I had given up my human life. That pain.
“You’re still a bit human, and that human bit of you is lying on the ground in a Vansolini infected world. You can get influenced like that too. When you’re down there, just keep a clear head, ok? Too many memories will turn you into a Vansolini.” I nodded, took the pill and stepped into the ring of light. I found myself in the valley. The sacred valley. I had wanted to set foot on it so many times, and now I was finally here. Just not in the way I wanted. I started flying towards my house. Everything was so much easier when you were an angel. I passed the hilltop where I was laughing with Mia last night. “Oh, I knew that. It’s just so funny to see you up here all alone, in deep thought.” Mia’s voice echoed in my head. No more memories, I promised myself. Flying away from the valley, I approached my house. This would be the hardest of all. I could hear my parents sobbing inside the house. I’m right here. I thought. I resisted the urge to look through the window and flew to the back of the house. On the way over here, I hadn’t seen a single Vansolini. Now I realized why. They were all crowded around my dead body, laughing. More and more memories were flooding in. The tire swing hung from a tree. Maggie. My head started throbbing. It
“Your emotions. Shut it off and all the pain will go away. You won’t have to feel anything anymore. No more guilt. No more pain. Shut it off.” It was so tempting. No more memories. I couldn’t. I had to hold on to the good inside of me. “No. I’m not going to shut it off.” I said. Then the pain engulfed me until all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. The pain ebbed away. My face was wet with tears. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. I hastily wiped my face and blinked away the last tears. The golden light was shining. I made it. Loosening my grip on my old-self’s arm, I saw Amy walking over towards me. Her eyes were sympathetic, but when she spoke it was still in the same business like tone. “Here, give me the body. We’ll be done with it in a few minutes. Now you go and get some rest, yes? You’ll be in room 925. Just press your finger to the scanner.” Amy turned around and walked away, carrying my old-self with her.
I pressed my finger to the scanner and took a deep, shuddering breath. The door opened. The room was bleached white and had a bed in the middle of the room. To the right side there was a closet. A lamp next to the closet lighted up the room, it had no windows. I buried my face in the pillow and stayed there. I fell asleep.
"This update is working well! " he exclaimed, feeling that his teleportation did have increased accuracy. He sat down, logged on to iCloud Drive, and edited the Swift code that he was working on for three weeks (which is part of the next version of iOS). He added a "didFinishTeleport()" function to his extension program.
No dreams. I didn’t know how long I had slept, but the knocking sound on my door waked me up. I scuffed over to the door.
"Intruder alert! " a loud voice suddenly shouted, "Samsung troops are invading, please teleport to location 4231 to defend! "
“Who’s it?” I mumbled.
South America, and Japan; the Microsoft Union controlled Europe and Russia; and the Samsung Empire controlled mainland Asia.
“Me.” Amy’s British accent drifted in through the gap of the door. I opened the door for her and led her in. ✍
FAR FUTURE AFTER 200 YEARS By Vincent Cai
After an 8-hour charging, Dave woke up and felt strength flowing all over his body. He teleported to the shower room, where a tiny device turns all dirty stuff into thin air in a split second. "Software update! " said Siri, the virtual voice assistant created by Apple in 2011 and was improved for many years. She then downloaded and installed iOS 207.1.4 on Dave's mechanical body in under 1 millisecond. "This update fixed a bug where the reflex system might be stuck for 30 milliseconds, and improved support for the teleportation system, making it 5% more accurate. " Dave went on and had breakfast. Food, instead of being a required source of energy, became more of an entertainment or a ritual. The food appeared in his mouth, was chewed, tasted, and swallowed, and disappeared. And now it's time for a prayer. People perform prayers before they go to work. Dave turned on the hologram of Steve Jobs located in the center of the room, and he kneeled down to pay his sincere respect to this insanely great innovator. After a 15 minute prayer, Dave teleported to work.
Apple and Samsung is having a conflict in the Sea of Japan, and Apple is beginning to win, but suddenly Samsung troops went over the ocean to invade California, the political and economical center of Apple. So Dave teleported to the exact location he was told to teleport to. He turned on Siri again and commanded, "give me my laser pistol. " The laser pistol has a streamline design, covered with beautiful sapphire crystal glass, and it glows, making it so beautiful in a way only Apple can make. He pressed gently on the home button, turning it on. The words ">slide to shoot" appeared on the glossy 2-inch Retina HD display. The Apple troops pushed the Samsung troops to the shores, where they then had a great battle. Lasers, balls of plasma, and supersonic projectiles flew everywhere. Dave's fingers slid across the screen for hundreds of times, precisely activating the laser every time, dealing great area damage. Suddenly, a ball of plasma stroke Dave in the place where he used to have his kidney. In 2125 C.E., most humans got rid of their biological bodies and replaced them with well-crafted robotic bodies, which made them theoretically immortal. People will not die from old age or illnesses anymore, but it also made software updates and hardware upgrades essential to humans that possess the robotic bodies. Dave was outraged. Nobody has ever harmed him before due to his legendary skills. He commanded Siri to heal him, and then he switched to his electromagnetic cannon. This electromagnetic cannon is extremely powerful, but it has a smaller area of effect, and its firing rate is way slower than the laser pistol. Still, he went on and destroyed more and more Samsung troops. "Here's a private message from The RoundCornered-Square, " said Siri. "Please go to location
4925 to slay the enemy leader, we will send three excellent soldiers to cover your back. " The RoundCornered-Square is the cover your back. " The Round-Cornered-Square is the headquarters of the Apple Department of Defense, builtthe headquarters of the Apple Department of Defense, built on top of the ruins of The Pentagon.
HOLIDAY
So Dave teleported to the exact location. His three companions also got there in time. Dave drew his quantum blade, and went straight at the Samsung commander. Samsung's commander is really big, about 12 feet tall, just like a giant. Rumors have told that this mutation is the works of Samsung, making the commander especially powerful and damageresistant.
By Joanne Teng
“Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! Time to wake
Samsung's commander drew his sword and blocked just in time to save his own life, but the blade already went 4 inches into his body. Dave pulled the blade back and dodged the Commander's fatal attack, and he attempted another quick attack, but was blocked again.
up!” Kristie’s little sister, Annie, woke her up at 6 o’clock. Kristie rubbed her eyes and suddenly goes hyper. “It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!” Kristie jumped on her bed and twirled. “Where are my presents? I’m coming, dear presents!” She imagined mountains of presents piled around the Christmas tree before laughing at the empty stairway and walking down. Kristie hurried with Annie to the Christmas tree, where Kristie slipped.
"Software update! " said Siri, "iOS 208 added new features such as power saving, near-field accurate teleportation, and a 'didFinishTeleport()' function that enables pre- customizing actions after teleportation. "
“Oof!” She stood up and patted dirt off her new dress. She raised her head and saw… nothing there, except for the tree.
"This is just what I needed! " exclaimed Dave, who then pre-customized an accurate stabbing action after teleportation, and teleported accurately above his opponent. His blade crushed into the enemy's body. Samsung's commander gave out a large dying roar, and fell to the ground.
“Where are my presents?” Annie sat on the ground and started crying. Kristie pulled the side of her dress and stood there staring at the empty place. She stomped to the sofa close to the chimney, and sat down hard. Suddenly, she heard a chomping sound coming from the chimney. She stood up with confusion and called Annie over.
Dave put back his quantum blade and summoned his laser pistol back. Again, his thumb slid across the screen swiftly and precisely, while the other Apple troops came in, joined him, and finished off the rest of the Samsung troops together.
“Annie, let’s go see what’s happening in the chimney,” Kristie said to Annie. “Okay,” Annie replied, grabbing onto Kristie’s hand and following. At the sight of where the chomping sound was coming from, Kristie gasped and Annie cried again. It was a chubby monster, and it was chomping their presents. The chubby, cute monster turned and looked at Kristie with a super innocent face. Annie stopped crying and smiled, then held out her hand.
100 years later, the Microsoft Union joined into the United States of Apple after a great vote. In 2416 C.E., Apple conquered Samsung's capital, ending the Common Era. The Third Age of the world has begun, and everyone lived immortally ever after. ✍
“Come play with us!” Annie said. Then the monster stood up and started speaking in English!
Illustration by Isa Pan
“Sorry I ate your presents… I’m too hungry… I
promise I will pay you back! Go to the nearest park from your home then come back, I promise you will be surprised!” The cute monster said.
art: a masterpiece indeed. But by this time, nobody even thought about the book anymore, except for the rare occasion of primary school children stumbling upon it in the school library. And even then, no one noticed the relation between the famous 1950s novel and today.
Then it pushed Kristie and Annie out and watched them walk away. It said something and disappeared. Presents appeared.
However, in October 2018, a group of heretic individuals finally noticed how the government was dealing out money to the apparent ‘less fortunate’ in the book and in real life. People were angry, seeing as the book had a terrible ending. But despite their rage, most people were just amazed. Amazed by C. Edward’s predictions, amazed by the fact that 60 years ago, someone was trying to prepare them, to help them. It was uncanny.
An hour later, Kristie and Annie came back. They were surprised by the presents, and found a neatly written card: Dear Kristie and Annie: I’m so sorry! I promised to fix this! Good luck! - From you know who ✍
WHAT IT WAS
So much so, that scientist Orson Giles was trying to get to the bottom of it. In a nearby museum, there was the same typewriter C. Edwards had used to write the story. If he did his research well, the place where Edwards purchased it wasn’t any ordinary store. This store had been reported to sell unusual products. Just last week, someone had bought a chair that turned invisible when someone sat on it. Crazy objects, really. Could this typewriter produce an outline for the future? Time to put the test into action.
By Elsie Kibby
By Monday, Orson had gotten the gold, and was now well on his way to research. Into the typewriter, he wrote, “In three seconds, an apple appeared on Dr. Orson Giles’ desk”. He counted to three, and soon, there it was, a bright red apple right next to his arm. He was dumbstruck. Orson could save the world with this device. Peace could be restored, and their country wouldn’t be in constant danger from themselves, but at the same time he knew the risks if this were to get in the wrong hands.
1953 He sat at the desk, fingers fluidly tapping every letter on the typewriter. A few clicks later, he was finished: 364 pages of pure genius. The author knew nothing of the future sixty-some years from now, but frankly, that was the point. He figured that if he was going to die soon from whatever this god-awful disease was, he might as well give people his opinion, his prediction of what was to come.
Things could be worse off than they already were. And he didn’t mean the little ‘free meal with every purchase’ kind of thing. He meant full on ‘cop gets murdered, no one cares’ kind of things.
It was a terrible thing, too – the future. The government – malfeasant people – is putting it in the people’s heads, that the things they’re doing is acceptable. And all the people are oblivious. They don’t feel as though the government is wrong. But what they’re turning the world into…well, let’s just say, if his theory turns into reality, he’ll be glad he’s not here to witness it.
Although, in this society, things like those were just…news – it happened, so what? He wondered what it was like in Edwards’ time. People were still recovering from World War II, although from what he’d learned it didn’t sound nearly as bad as the eve of World War III in 2015, when Europe was nearly annihilated. They had lost Norway and Britain – the worst days the world had ever seen.
2018 So, here we are. The author passed two years after the publication of his first and last science-fiction novel; a tragedy much like the story of Vincent van Gogh, without the suicide and mental illness. Citizens praised his work of
So just as any man would, Orson figured this typewriter could be packed away for a long time. A very long time. And so it was.
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THE BIRD By Andy Wang
CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDDDAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! The bird lays quietly in is nest, unbothered, untouched. Its body still radiating from its recent flight, humming softly. Its wings broken, helpless, quietly crying… It was a dark and stormy night, the bird was pushed, pulled, the gods were angry… The shining eyes of the magnificent beast shone through the little droplets, it showered upon the spine of the beast, the bullets shot down as if it would pierce through the stronghold of armor upon armor, it was war. The lightning crackled and boomed like the great cannons, but even the loudest, most dangerous bolts would not be able hit the debauched, agile bird. The animal flew freely, easily dodging each blow, spreading its wings as if it was trying to show off its glorious annexes.
Suddenly, a humongous bolt of lightning shot down upon the wings of the bird, disabling it forever. It shouted for help” SOS, SOS!!!, it shrieked! At an unreachable speed, the bird came down, souring through the darkness, approaching the humongous sea. ✍
Illustration by Claire Lee
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For 40 years, up until Orson’s death, that ‘magical’ typewriter sat in a closet in his bathroom, in a dusty box, covered by towels and an ironing board. Orson had no family, no friends, nobody to come and find it. Eventually, people had to come and clean out the house, and someone was bound to find it by then. They just had to. —————————————————————— “Hey, Tim, I found this…box, should I open it?” “Yea, I dunno. Mr. A. said that we could just take anything that seemed interesting. Man had no will, no nothing. So I’d just go ahead, Ben”. Ben inched towards the box, unfolding the top flaps and peeking inside. “No way! This is that missing typewriter from the museum! He stole this! At least he had a somewhat exciting life”. Tim pushed the door open from his place in the hallway, replacing Ben above the box. He lifted it out, glancing over the gold band on the base, the navy coat, and the white letters on each button. “Dude. We could get like…trillions for this”. “And so we shall, Tim, and so we shall”. The mystery of the typewriter remains unknown. Tim and Ben did not get trillions. They got about thirty bucks for it. Which is not a lot, considering thirty bucks for us is about five cents in their time. C. Edwards is no longer a renowned author. He is just part of history now. He didn’t make that much of an impact on the world. The time at the end of the book – 2020 – passed quite a while ago. People no longer cared much for literature. The eBook phase has come and gone, and no one really reads at all anymore. C. Edwards was a legend, but not one will ever know about it. ✍
THE ROOM OF DREAMS By David Wang .
I didn't expect to plunge into a room of dreams. There I was, writing my homework, and I found myself dizzy, unable to focus. I closed
my eyes and took a deep breath, and I felt a sudden surge of tireness, like I just ran twenty laps. I stumbled, and crashed on my bed. I felt the bed fall apart, and everything was like glue. I couldn't move, see or even feel anything. I wasn't so surprised. It was just another strange nightmare. Then, the crazy thing happened. Everything parted, and found my dream self in a room. The walls were black, with no light coming from any direction, but my dream self could see perfectly. I didn't focus on much details of the room, but only glass jars, big as bottles of water, stood in the middle of the room. Something flickered inside them, and they showed visions I could see with my mind. These were dreams. My dreams. I walked towards them and studied the dreams. Some good dreams, some nightmares, and some I couldn't even remember. I was so focused that I didn't even look at where I was going. I tripped on a jar, and it shattered to pieces. I jerked awake, and found myself on the ground of a bright hallway, the same one in my dream a few days ago, with the flowing fire maze. Weren't I supposed to be on my comfortable bed, resting? Then I figured something out. Something that doesn't make any sense. Something that weren't supposed to happen, but did. My real self got in my own dream. I panicked. In my original fire maze dream, I was cornered by flames, with my friends burnt, and I got woken up by my alarm. But this time there weren't any alarms to wake me up. I hoped I was still dreaming, and I will wake up when I have to go to school, but I knew this was real. I thought about my dreams. What happened after this? I walked around the maze of fire, thinking as fast as I could. Can I die in dreams? If I did, would I go home, on my bed? Then I thought of something. This is my own dream. Can I control what happened in it? I've read about people manipulating their dreams, controlling what's in them. Can I try to do that? I closed my eyes. I concentrated so hard that my head buzzed. Then I opened my eyes, after I prayed to everything and everyone. I was back home, awoke. Then, my alarm rang. Time for school. When I arrived school, people kept asking why I smelled like fire and burnt marshmallows. I just answered "I ate some for breakfast", but my classmates clearly didn't believe me. Then, I went in the science class room, and people were talking about weird dreams. I walked towards
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and swallowed us all. That was all I remembered from the original dream.
the people, ready to join their conversation, since I had a pretty weird dream too. When I heard what they were talking about, I nearly fainted with surprise. They were talking about the dream of the fire maze, and everybody had that dream. What did I do?
"Hey! Come on! Let's try to escape!" My friend shouted to me. I jolted back to reality, or at least my dream reality, in the dream room. I sprinted after my classmates. They sneaked fearfully though the fire maze. The walls of fire shifted once we went through a gate. We were trapped in the maze. I studied the space we had. There was a trap door...the trap door.
Then, my head buzzed again. I tried to make it go away, but it just got worse. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head. When I noticed my mistake, I was too late. The world faded around me and I fell in the room of dreams. This time the room was a bit different... or a lot. This time there aren't just one room, but about twenty rooms connected, and they look different. Some are black like mine, and some are other colored, like white, gray, or dark red. I went to the white room, with my best friend in it. "What is this?" My best friend asked, panicking. "Where is this place?" "This... Um..." I found it hard to explain. "This is the room of dreams."
I'd like to say that I helped everybody escape. The truth is it was the dreams. Even though I was scared out of my mind, I still tried to clear my mind and focus on escaping. I looked around. The fire closing up on us, the trapdoor which I know leads to a trap, and... a glitter of light? I never noticed the dream jars are still here. I sprinted at a random jar with excitement. The good news is that I almost reached the jar, but the bad news is that also means I am almost getting burned to a crisp by a wall of fire.
"What is it?" "Your past dreams will be stored inside here, and for some reason I can get in this place."
I tried to kick the jar to my hand, but the temperature is too hot. I lost my balance, and would've fell in the fire if my friend haven't grabbed me.
"Where is my dreams, then?" I looked around his room. There were nothing, not a single jar, and same for my other classmates. There were nothing.
"What were you doing?" He exclaimed. "Getting the jar." I replied. "Well, there'll be no getting the jar now." He said.
"Wha... What..." I spluttered. My friend frowned. "You don't think we'll be stuck here forever, do you?"
I looked up. The jar fell in the fire. There goes our only hope. I thought. Then, the miracle happened. The fire somehow liquified the bottle, and the dream fluttered out. The dream, turns out, to be about our science test today. Whoever had that dream had saved us all. �
"Well, I'm not sure." I decided to be honest. "I concentrated last time I got in this room and I got out, but I don't think I can manage 20 people..." My friend gasped.
Illustration by Isa Pan
"What?" I asked, mystified.
 
"Look... LOOK BACK!!" He shouted. I turned my head, and what I saw frightened me out of my mind. It was the fire maze, and all my friends were in there, standing exactly where they were standing in my fire maze dream from days ago. Then, I flinched and had a bad feeling. I found out the truth about the room of dreams. It was way more powerful than I thought it was. I replayed the fire maze dream in my mind. Me and my friend, in the dream, had navigated to a trap door, thinking it was the way out. A stream of flames came out of the
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BEING A CHOCOLATE BAR By David Jiang
Illustration by Evan Sim
It is dark in here, but I know all my friends are on
Suddenly I am grabbed by somebody and throw in a basket. And in this basket there are so many different kinds of people in here: vanilla white, milk black, milk white, mint white and some other weird people. Then the basket starts moving and more and more peoples start joining in: skittles, smarties, bubblegum, M&M’s, lays, and gummy bears. The person is just keep walking for the next 45 minutes and suddenly we are in another white bowl. And the guy start eating us. One, two, three, four… Finally the lights went off and the guy went away. And I start a brand new life in the white bowl. ✍
top of me. Suddenly, we are lifted by somebody and pored out to a basket. "Woo!" we all said together. Oh, I forget to introduce my self. I am a chocolate bar called SNICKERS. I think most of the people know me. The weather is cold tonight and the sky is dark. I can see can thing moving in front of me, I think they are angles or something carrying a basket full of my friends. Suddenly I remember want my great grandfather said to me that one day you are going to be in a basket and seeing weird people walking in front of you and pick you up, that is called Halloween. I start thinking am I going to be grab by somebody?
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MINION’S ADVENTURE By Nicholas Zhang I’m a minion, and I’ll make myself clear, because for my love of bananas, Gru give us plenty, we have our own language, so don’t blame us for that, I have an enjoyable life, and I am satisfied. On the day I was born, Gru took me to a school, and from that day, I started my dream with determination, having a heart that was full of kindness, and so I came up the idea I wanted to work with someone! Can’t help to born with this body, full of fat, still, I manage to stay in shape. I’m working hard with my partners; we have party and games, what a life! One day I woke up, found myself in an empty room, which use to be a cozy little wonderland! I look out side, saw something, smell something, mouth something, then saliva raining down through my mouth like a waterfall. I go for it, man, I really go for it, the big yellow stuff, the bell, the coolness, and my partners. I call them partner is that when it came to banana, they never share like real friends do, and even when it came to the time you’ll have your girlfriends! I squished in, pasting through darting in all directions, trying to reach my destination, and I did! When I reach there, waiting, the car suddenly gives a jerk, and then a pipe stuck out, sucking every one of us in... The sight before me ended, and the adventure had just began! ✍
Illustration by Shine Kim
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RISE OF THE SNOWMEN
The boys watched as it gathered snow and sticks were stuck in it as it tumbled. By the time it was at the bottom, it was monstrous. It lifted up its head and pulled two logs towards it. With a chunk, it now had legs. The dry branches snapped as it stood up and roared. Suddenly, the numerous snowmen they had previously built all turned to face them and growled. The creatures closed in.
By JARED MURPHY
Al squealed and grabbed a stick. He whacked the nearest snow creature with it, scattering snow and chunks of coal. The decapitated snow sculpture collapsed onto the ground. Nick stabbed at another with the snowplow. There were too many. They jumped on their sled and raced down the hill. Behind them, the horde pursued them. Fortunately, most fell due to their awkward movement. They tumbled faster and faster. Some crashed into trees and were demolished. Some fell over larger edges and were smashed. The rest hit the driveway at the end of the hill and were dashed to pieces. Some stopped at the edge of the hill, shrieking with rage. The big one did not. ✍
They could not believe it when all of the snowmen- or snow creatures, really, as they were not at all men- began to come to life. It seemed that whatever they shaped or built took on a life of its own. It started when Nick and Al built that one small snowman. As Nick stepped back and declared, “It’s done,” the thing’s face opened up into a mouth-like shape and moved about. It turned to face Nick. Then, it screamed. Nick and Al screamed with surprise. Then, the snowman slid along the ground in an attempt to flee. It failed, slipping and rolling down the hill.
Illustration by Jared Murphy
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immediately. Pack all of your things and take your family to the nearest storm cellar as quic-" The screen went black.
THE TORNADO
As if on cue, a sudden, ominous, strong blast of wind shut the open window above the sofa. The branch keeping the tire swing up snapped in half. The entire house started to lean on one side. An enormous, gray figure appeared in the distance. Trees were ripped from their roots, ponds were lifted up, the ground was completely destroyed, becoming one with the tornado. ssss The shapeless gray blob started to approach the hill on which the house waited. It tore into the front porch, causing countless splinters of wood to fly in every direction. Shattering glass could be heard even through the brilliant screaming the monstrosity created. The house didn't try to save itself; It had already accepted its faith.
By Andrew Wang
Nothingness. Rooms brimming with nothingness. It was still. The only audible noise was the occasional weak, dry groan emitted from the floorboards. A beam of moonlight shone down on the building through the smashed remains of a window, and illuminated the tattered drapes, flowing in the wind like ghosts. Outside, a tire swing hung from the branch of withering oak tree, slowly rocking back and forth in the silent breeze. A crow let out a resounding cry, which echoed through the site. Black clouds hovered overhead. A television in the living room showed nothing but static on its screen. There was some comfort in the sound it made. A sofa bed directly across from it was covered in dust, and the rug below it was worn and ripped. The television suddenly flickered on, showing a news report. "An F5 funnel tornado is heading towards Anadarko, Oklahoma." The reporter announced. "All residents of that area must evacuate their houses
Illustration by Isa Pan
"This is the end." It whispered… ✍
TIME MACHINE FAIL By Billy Raptis
“I’m finally awake!” “Mr. Konnan, I wouldn’t be so excited. Last year your finances were huge.” “Hello? Who is that?” “It’s Bethanny, your finance accountant.” “I’m one hundred percent sure that I don’t remember you.” “Of course you do not! You were inserted in the time machine about 43,900 years ago!” “Oh my god, I can’t believe it!” “What, sir?” “I’ve escaped from the lunatic with the chainsaw that always came into my house!” “Oh, you mean Gurtling, sir?” “Oh yes! That was his name.” “Gurtling, sir, froze also. He said that he wanted to freeze with you so he could give you a rough time, though here in the future we do not allow chainsaws.” Mr. Konnan was speechless. “Sir, before you burst out, we would like to give you a treat.” “Right now, in a hospital? Drop me off to my desk and finish your work. Then I might accept the treat.”
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“I’m sorry sir, our computer company has exploded.”
trail of blood following him. He walked out of the store handcuffed, literally HANDCUFFED. Mr. Konnan walked back to the room that he woke up in, and in less then 2 minutes he was back in 2014. ✍ The storm raged and the frigid night shuddered, torn in two. The man sat in the very corner of a desolate building, hunched over a desk. When he noticed a figure in the distance, he grinned darkly. From his pocket, he pulled a gleaming dice and tossed it up into the air and caught it again. He threw the dice towards the approaching figure, and disappeared. ✍
Mr. Konnan could not believe it. “Take me to my house, take me to my family!” Mr. Konnan screamed. “Sir I strongly advise you to stay calm. Your family is dead and your house is burnt down, you have nothing left except me.” “Well, what year is it?” “It is October 29th, year 45914, sir.” “Oh my god, for how long was I frozen?” “For 43,900 years, sir. I’ve already told you.” “Okay, where will I live?” Bethanny is on the phone.
FUTURE
“Hello, Bethanny? Are you there?” “Yes sir, I’m still here. I’m talking to the phone.” “I’m hungry, get me food!” “Okay, sir.” “Tell me, what was the surprise-treat you wanted to show me?”
By Grace Liu
No answer. The boy groaned. The sun was blinding—too bright for someone that had lived in darkness for two years. The bed creaked as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He walked over to the window, and pulled open the heavy, velvet curtains. An endless sea of glittering buildings rose before him. Rooftop gardens colored the city, and a circling garden surrounded the buildings below. Then, there was a knock on the door.
“Where will I live? Hello, Bethanny?” Mr. Konnan un-tied himself from the bed he was held in. Ok, where do I go now? Mr. Konnan thought. Mr. Konnan looked for the robot that he was talking to 5 minutes ago. He started walking in the building that he woke up in. The building had everything! Mr. Konnan looked around. He found the apple store, which was launching the new iPhone 43,905. He went in and looked at the phone. The phone could transform into a car, a house, a fridge and even a toilet! Mr. Konnan was busy looking at the phone. He played FIFA 45,914 with Messi’s great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great… This is going to take a long time so, Messi’s great grandchild of 45,904 generations. Playing for Barcelona. He was busy playing with Messi the 45,904th, when Bethanny came and tapped his shoulder. He turned around and bumped his head on Bethanny. Her metal forehead made his nose bleed. “Oh, I am so sorry, Mr. Konnan.” Gurtling walked into the room holding a chainsaw and before he knew it, there was a broken chainsaw on the ground and Gurtling was partially dead with a
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The boy froze, panicking for a moment until he realized that the war was over and there were no more Nazis chasing him—that there was no longer a reason to hide. The door opened. Two men stepped in to the room, silent on the carpeted floor. They wore peculiar clothing: long, draping, curtain-like shirts and pants in colors that varied and shifted as they moved around. “Roller 7897 has awakened,” a mechanical voice announced as they entered. “Name: Vincent. Age: 12 years. Time: 1938.” “Please sit down,” the two men said. “We must perform a health check.” From his sleeve, the first man pulled out a syringe, wielding it like a knight brandishing his sword, preparing for war. The second man slipped on a glove, embroidered with metallic circles over the nerves on his hand. He reached forwards and seized Vincent’s arm. The metal on the gloves were cold, like ice. The first man stepped towards him, and in an instant, as deft and quiet as an owl descending on the cornered mice, he entered the syringe into Vincent’s skin. A wave of darkness crashed down
on him. ————————————————————————
“Then, I’ll start now!” Vincent was ecstatic. “Where do I start with?”
Vincent frowned. It was night already? And here he was, thinking that he could explore the city without any fear of running into Nazis. His annoying parents had never let him go outside with his friends—even when there was no war. They kept telling him this and that, bickering about how he shouldn’t do this and how he shouldn’t do that. They had
“All new citizens are expected to go to the City Hall. Please come with me,” she said, floating up and down expectantly. Vincent frowned. Why wasn’t the Deviguide moving? Suddenly, the speaker above buzzed to life.
driven him mad, so Vincent had decided to leave and never go back. They can let their fear rule their lives, but Vincent left and came to the future on his own. He scratched the back of his neck, frustrated. He wandered around the room, running his fingers over the slick varnish of the wooden table. A mechanical device Vincent didn’t recognize sat on the desk. Curious, Vincent reached up and tapped the screen. “Hello,” a voice said. Vincent expected to hear the door open, but instead, a cartoon creature appeared in a hologram, projected from the screen of the device. “I am your Deviguide. I am in charge of introducing you to the brilliant new city of Crystine and helping you along.” The creature twirled around as it spoke. It was simple, with pale blue skin and fingerless hands. Vincent scowled, annoyed. He didn’t need some bobbing toy to follow him around. He wanted to explore the city! As if sensing Vincent’s impatience, it held up one arm and said, “Ticket.” A thin strip of blank paper appeared in her hand. The words appeared as if there was some person writing on it, instead of empty air. After the final word appeared, the Deviguide handed the paper to Vincent. “This is your ticket into the city. Please hold it close, as I can only make one copy.”
“Your Deviguide is under maintenance. Please wait outside the Roller Building. The Mechanical Maintenance Center will send someone to pick you up immediately,” a voice said, startling Vincent. The Deviguide continued bobbing, up and down, up and down. ————————————————————————— Vincent stepped outside. A saucer-like device hovered above the surface of the ground, a glass dome over it. “Welcome to the City of Crystine! I have orders to take you to the City Hall, correct?” The device spun around, talking excitedly. “Correct,” Vincent said. He took a hesitant step towards the device. As if sensing his presence nearing it, the glass dome retracted into the device. “Could you,” Vincent began, unsure of how to voice his question politely. “Could you perhaps tell me what you are?”
”The creature twirled around as it spoke. It was simple, with pale blue skin and fingerless hands.”
The paper glowed, illuminating the room with artificial light. Vincent reached for it hesitantly, unsure what to do. When his skin touched the holographic image, it flickered for a moment, before fluttering down into the palm of his hand. It was no longer a hologram. A piece of real paper rested in his hand—physical evidence of his escape from the war that nearly drove him mad.
The device laughed. “I am a MHB, or a Magnetic Hovering Board,” it explained, but Vincent didn’t know how to respond. Finally, he took a brave step onto the laughing MHB. The City of Crystine was magnificent. Around him, Vincent saw enormous gleaming buildings, emerald grass, and brilliant blue skies. The sun warmed the waltzing breeze and people bustled around him, laughing and talking amongst each other. Paradise, Vincent thought. He used to wake up to the sound of fire, gunshots and chaos, and walked the streets in constant fear. I’ve escaped hell and came to heaven.
“What do I do with it?” Vincent asked, rocking back and forth on the soles of his feet. “When can I start exploring the city?” The thin, wiry smile appeared on the Deviguide’s face.
The MHB sailed through the winding streets and dazzling architecture. As they slowed, the curtain of skyscrapers slowly parted and revealed a twisting, ivory building that stood, tall and grand in the center of a garden and spiraling cobblestones.
“Whenever you like. The city of Crystine welcomes you.”
“It’s almost as if I’m in Alice in Wonderland,” Vincent remarked, turning to look at the entire city that lay
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at his feet. And just as he turned back towards the City hall, the white wooden doors opened. ———————————————————————— “The City of Crystine welcomes you!” Two people stood at the steps of the City Hall, holding the doors open. “My name is Avelina,” the women said. The man nods cooly, “I am Cedrick. Please come with us.”
“Just like Malcolm Crystine said, we are all citizens of the City of Crystine. Now, why don’t you explore your new home?” Cedrick said, laughing. They pushed open the grand wooden doors and Vincent took his first step into the city as an official citizen. ———————————————————————“Hey,” a voice said behind Vincent. “Uh,” Vincent said, apprehensive, but as he turns around and sees that the boy means no harm, he answered. “Hey.”
They lead Vincent through twisting corridors with pristine white walls and portraits that dated back centuries, into a large chamber with a desk in the center. The walls are holographic images, a panoramic view that shifted and showed life around the City of Cristine. Cedrick walked forwards and presses a card to the screen, and the wall comes to life. The lights dim and the screen darkened as a voice began talking.
“Great!” the boy exclaims. “What’s your name?” “Vincent.” “I’m Casper,” the boy said. He looked at Vincent’s clothes and the Identification Card in his hand and asked, “Are you a roller?”
“Life before the City of Crystine was one of the worst times of human history. Disease, crime, and war plagued our world.” The holographic screen shifted, playing a aged, black and white film from a battle. “People lived in constant fear of death and mortal strife.” The voice went silent, and there was the sound of bombs and screaming and death. A sound of death so loud that it made him want to cover his ears and cower in the corner of his room because it was so, horribly familiar. “Then the worst decade in history began, World War 3. It was a nuclear battle that forced thousands of species to extinction and killed more people than all the battles in history combined.” The walls changed to a clearer, colored film. There were explosions everywhere, and not a single sign of life. “Human and animal kind was almost wiped out, until one man stepped forwards and demanded peace. He brought thousands of people to stand at the top of the tallest building on earth, and vowed to stop the war.” The hologram showed a man with a huge crowd behind him, tall and proud and powerful. “That man was Malcolm Crystine, the founder for the City of Crystine. He did as he promised and from the aftermath of war, he built a gleaming city.” The screen darkened again, and suddenly, the face of Malcolm Crystine appeared. He stood in front of the City Hall. “From this day forwards, you are all citizens of this new city. There will be no war and disease and everyone can live happily and peacefully forever,” Malcolm Crystine said to the camera. “Welcome to the City of Crystine!” The lights turned on again and Avelina clapped. She stepped forwards towards the table at the center of the room and pulled a card out from a drawer. “This is your Identification card. Please hold it close at all times,” Avelina explained.
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“What’s a roller?” Casper laughed at Vincent’s question. “Yea, you definitely are! Remember before you came here, there was a man who asked you to roll a dice?” “I remember,” Vincent said, not keen to meet that man ever again. “Well, being a roller is basically when you roll a dice, it signifies how you have signed the contract and will be sent to the City of Crystine. It was devised as an unsuspicious way to bring people like you here,” Casper explained. “Oh,” Vincent muttered, awkward and hesitant. “So, do you have any idea where I can start?” “I would recommend the library,” Casper said, gesturing at the tall building that spiked into the sky. “I could show you the way, if you want.” “Yea, I think that would be good,” Vincent said, agreeing. He started down the path towards the library. Casper walked behind him, pointing out every landmark that caught his interest. “There, the plaza. People gather there to celebrate every holiday.” Casper’s pace slowed to a stop. “I’ve heard that rollers can be…” Casper said, not finishing his sentence. He fiddled with his sleeves and finally asked, “Are you Jewish?” Vincent’s blood froze. The peculiar question forced him to stand paralyzed in fear and rooted to the ground.
“No,” he said automatically. Casper looked up, frowning. “No?” he asked, as if not wanting to believe what he just heard. “So it’s true. Rollers aren’t Jewish?” He said that as if it was impossible, that it couldn’t possibly be true. Suddenly, Casper looked up and grabbed his wrist, dragging him across the street and forcing several cruising MHBs to a stop. They ran past people to the center of the plaza, and Casper turned back to face Vincent. “You’re not Jewish?” he asked again. “No,” Vincent replied. Casper’s eyes were wild, and he pulled from his sleeve a long syringe almost identical to the one that the two men had. His grip on Vincent’s wrist was ice cold. “Not,” he said. “Not Jewish.” The syringe slid into his skin, and once again, Vincent fell down into a wave of darkness. He fell onto the center of the city plaza, under the radiant azure sky and bleached clouds surrounded by a ring of people, never to wake up again. ✍
the pig tale By Billy Raptis
"Pigg was just sitting there reading his book at break. His book was about a little pig that had just been kicked out from his family when he was 3 years old. After about a year, he found himself an adoption center which he stayed there for about 2 years. Pig was absorbed deeply in that book until a pig from his grade came and tapped him. He asked if Pig wanted to play soccer but Pig nodded no. Pig continued reading his book. Pigg took Pigs book and set it on fire. Pig couldn't believe it! He fell down sobbing. The schools principal came and picked Pigg up and pulled from his ear to his office. The flaming book touched a tiny tall grass and within seconds the entire soccer field was on fire. After about 30 seconds the fire station came and took the fire off. The fire came up again straight away and burned the entire place. Everyone survived. Pigg came out and kicked Pig's bum. He murmured, "You dirt nugget!" and he walked to the PIG police station. He was imprisoned for only 7,000,000,000 years! Pig couldn't believe it! It was only a couple billion years! Pig went home and made his pet ant tell him why only that amount of years. Ant said that he didn't know why. Then pig drove his pig bike to the PIG police station. He saw a saw and just ignored it. Pigg was in a prison cell and was munching on some hay for lunch. That hay was horrible! Pig slipped through the metal bars and got in the cell with Pigg. They read the book together and stayed together for the night.
Illustration by Isa Pan
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Who knew that being mean could lead to the biggest friendship ever? Pig thought. The next morning Pigg started crying to Pig. Pig felt sorry for Pigg. Pig went home and got the best bacocandy he could find. when he went back to the place that Pigg was in, he threw the bacocandy through the window with the metal bars. The bacocandy flew inside the prison and Pigg caught it. Then pig snuck back in the prison. When pig settled down, they had
Nobody noticed anything because the drill was a silencer. Pig bought a flight ticket to Pigg's family, and they flew away to a different country. Since that day they had been exchanging Skype calls and mails. That was 75 years ago. It was time for pig's funeral and Pigg was happy for his old best friend who snuck him outta jail. Pigg is now the richest living thing in the world and he just wishes he had his friend by his side. ✍
I wasn’t so sure. But the thing was making its way to the chimney. We turned back around and stepped our first step in the dining room. “But sister, it sounds like he’s in the chimney!” My older sister looked up. Streaks of doubt and deep thinking crossed her face. Perhaps she was considering that it was a robber after all. Dust streamed from the chimney. Based on how many grunts there was, I could tell that the person was chubby, or considerably fat. Finally, finally, two little stubby legs appeared underneath the place were we hung our stockings. The legs were fat, and the shoes… red with fluffy white stuff. The figure landed on his butt on the logs in the fireplace, and he smiled at us.
Illustration by Chloe Hui
THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS
Santa!
By Vivian Wu
I
woke up with a yelp. Today was Christmas! I ran to
my sister’s room and woke her up. There was no sleeping in on this cold, happy day! We both ran down the stairs, racing each other until we were at the bottom. We went into the living room and checked out the Christmas tree. Still the same lights, still the same star on top. Nothing was different. Not even something under the tree. We looked all around the tree. Nothing. No flash of a ribbon hidden underneath the branches, no notecard peeking out of the mess of decorations on the tree. I turned to my big sister. “Where are the presents? Didn’t Santa come?”
Ideas rushed in my mind, all things to consider. Trap him and bring him for show and tell, force him to take me to the North Pole, look at his reindeer (See if they are as fat as someone…). But one idea stood out. He needed to take cookie eating down a notch. Rosy cheeks, merry eyes, this was truly Santa. He also smelled like gingerbread. We all stared at each other, not daring to break this sacred moment. Then, he threw some…some…pixie dust, which knocked us out. Yeah, I know. We both fell down and hit our heads. I don’t remember what happened next, but I woke up with a donkey neighing. A donkey? I looked up to find my Christmas present. A donkey with a ribbon tied around the neck.
I saw my sister struggling under her mask of pure innocence.
Just what I wanted. ✍
“Maybe he will come later. Come on, little sister; let’s first go eat breakfast.” We started towards the door. “Did you hear that?” Some heavy pit-pat sounds came from the roof. “A robbery?” “Probably not, sister. Surely it’s just the chimney duster.”
Illustration by Hannah Jon
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not to travel across dimensions too much because every time you do, you experience a few minuets of uncontrollable agony. It honestly feels like every single cell in your body is being electrocuted all at once.
HISTORY’S TRAVELER By Peter Heller I briskly walked the dimly lit road, as my destination was several miles away. I was on a highway in the middle of West Virginia, smack dab in the middle of nowhere! Why was I walking down a highway late at night, may you ask? Well, my vehicle, the one I use to travel through space and time with, was parked at a small hamburger joint called Harry’s All Night Hamburgers. It normally functions as a car but its engine was broken. And so another traveller agreed to fix it. While I waited, I got a ride with another guy, who was going to the nearby town Eastwood. His car also broke, so I had to walk all the way back to Harry’s All Night Hamburgers. All of us travelers through space-time used Harry’s All Night Hamburgers as our resting spot. For some reason, that restaurant seemed to be in almost every single alternate universe. I arrived close to 2 AM. As I approached the small ramshackle building that posed as a restaurant, I could tell something was wrong. I could hear yelling and what sounded like people singing. There were lots of people celebrating something. So, I walked in and asked my old friend, George, what was going on. He said that some scientist in some alternate universe managed to find out how to travel back to a time you already visited. The scientist managed to find out that every time you tear through slip-space and travel timelines, you leave behind these traceable particles called techrons. These techrons apparently have a specific code to find out from which universe they come from. The scientist then created a machine that can read these codes and open a hole to the dimension on the code. I was thrilled. Every one of us travelers had been unable to go back to our own worlds and now it was possible. There was just one problem: it had never been successfully tested. The scientist was also inside Harry’s and was looking for volunteers. Seeing I had nothing to lose, I agreed to be the test subject. The experiment was pretty simple. I would travel timelines and then use the techron code reader to open a portal back. The techron code reader looked like a solid brick, with a small slot in the side that sucked in the particles, and a screen to display numbers. I got in my vehicle and went through dimensions. Many people don’t know this, but when you tear a hole in slip-space, it really hurts. People try
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Once I arrived, everything looked the same as the dimension I had come from. That’s the thing about alternate dimensions. Most alternate dimensions look the same, but there are small differences between them. The techron brick began to freak out and let out beeping noises. Numbers started to form on the small screen. 43556864305822389. A set of multiple numbers. The first three numbers are the time I had to leave at, 4:35 AM. The second set of numbers were the longitude and latitude of where I had to be, which is this spot and the third set of number, and the most important, was the code I had to enter into my device to take me back to the last timeline. So 4:35 AM was when Harry’s world, and this world will be closest together. I checked my watch: 3:30 AM. So I still had some time. I decided to go into Harry’s and grab something to eat, but I noticed that something was off. I was the only one in the parking lot, and Harry’s All Night Hamburgers was boarded up. That was weird. In every alternate universe I had been to, Harry’s was always there. It was always full of people from alternate dimensions. Meanwhile in some government monitoring station, the alarm rang. They had picked us some techron particles coming from somewhere in West Virginia, out in the middle of nowhere. The man looking at the monitor smiled, every so often they would get an alert from that region, of a traveller who had accidently stepped into a universe where the government had found out about travellers and set up special monitoring stations to find those travellers. Within minutes, a silent, jet-black helicopter flew up into the night sky. Back at Harry’s, I had looked around to find out what had happened. All I found was a sign that said this place had been condemned back in 1991. I knew there was a town nearby, so I decided to go there and look for answers. I got in my car/time machine and started driving. About one minute after my drive began, the vague outline of a jet-black helicopter came into view. A couple men stepped out, dressed in full black combat fatigues and carrying guns. The one who appeared to be the commander, walked up to where my car had been a minute ago. I said that I was here only a few minutes earlier, and that I was on my way to the town. He called the town’s
police, and told them I was already at the town.
extended out the side of the helicopter, there was a loud bang sound and next thing I knew the tires on the left side of my car blew out.
After a few minutes of driving I arrived at Eastwood. It was a small little town but something seemed wrong. Then I noticed it. There was a huge black building that seemed wildly out of place sitting in the middle of town. It had towering electric fences topped off with barbwire surrounding it. When I say huge I mean huge. It seemed as though it was built to be seen from space! It dominated the skyline for miles and it was in the middle of a mountainous area. Now I knew something was seriously wrong in this town. I was just about to turn around and head back when a spot light was cast on my car.
My car was sliding along the ground when it became 4:35 AM. I immediately punched the button and got out of that timeline. I felt the normal effects of jumping timelines and then arrived right in front of Harrys All Night Hamburgers. I got out of my flipped over car to a wave of cheering. It had worked, the device worked. The scientist walked up to me and shook my hand. “My device worked” The scientist cried.
“Attention citizen, you are in very strict violation of curfew, stay where you are until the proper authorities arrive to apprehend you.” Seconds later a black car drove up to mine and I got out as the officer threw me in the back of his car. At this point I was very confused, I had no idea what was happening.
“But there is just one problem, techron particles decay over time and for most of you they are already gone. So basically none of you will be able to return to your home timelines.” He said to the crowd. And the cheering stopped instantly as the wave of understanding swept through the crowd. ✍
“Officer, this is all a big misunderstanding.” I said.
FAITH IN LONELINESS
“What do you think you’re doing?” The officer asked. “Don’t you and all your world jumping buddies know it’s a terrible idea to come to this timeline?” “No,” I responded. “We don’t know how to control what timeline we jump into.” “Look, I like helping people like you, so in thirty seconds you’re going to run back to your car, punch the gas and leave this universe.”
By Ray Kao Dean rummaged through the deep mucky green marsh. His camp must have been long gone by now. Not another living creature in sight, though there was an abundance of dead ones. He rummaged through the deep layer of mud that was set beneath him, trying to find any signs of civilization. He had no such luck. Underneath the mud was dirt. It had hardened to a point where his nails couldn’t even pierce it. The dead stems of the vines that once dangled so playfully were now shriveled up. Their personalities stripped from them, and now they lay there like nothing but carcasses.
I nodded. “Okay.” Before I left, I noticed something about him. He looked very familiar. Then I realized it. He had the same face and the same voice. He was Harry, but younger. I then ran out, and hopped in my car, and drove as fast as I could. Harry yelled something, but I couldn't hear it. It was approaching 4:35 AM, and I was almost happy that I had made it out of here when I saw them. 2 jet black cars following me. As soon as I had ran back to my car they must have started to follow me. If I could just get to Harry’s then I could get out of this crazy world. That’s when I saw it. A sleek black helicopter flying through the air towards me. It was 4:34 and I only had one minute left to wait so I just drove faster. Then something
He had now been travelling for a while. He had left his last companions after he took all of their food. He snuck away at night while the fools were asleep. Dean felt no remorse or what he had done. He did what was necessary to stay alive. He had always managed to do just that.
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The bombings happened nearly 10 years ago, while Dean was still a sophomore in college. When they heard about the bombs that were to drop, everybody panicked. There was no restraint as to what people would do for their safety, they would sabotage others, push them to the ground, force them out of a bunker, etc. Dean predicted that the even would occur a long time ago. He studied all of Russia’s military tactics all the way from the 2010’s up until now. He knew a horde of soldiers or bombs would arrive in America. He started collecting a large amount of asbestos, the easiest fire retardant material to come acroos, and lined his entire house with it. His parents didn’t suspect a thing. He knew that the bombs couldn’t be nuclear because all nuclear power was eradicated by the year 2027.
to succumb to his fatigue, Dean saw a clearing, something he hadn’t seen in a long time. He scurried towards the bright sunlight that pierced through the desolate swamp and what he saw next, was definitely a sight to be rejoiced. Clean water. Dean slowly stumbled towards the crystalline puddle, and right as he reached the water, Dean tripped and due to his exhaustion drifted off into slumber. A whole 18 hours had passed before Dean finally awoke. A state of panic engulfed him. The puddle of water was no longer there. Distraught and furious, Dean started to seriously contemplate what he was doing, and what his objective was. Staying alive? Partially. Helping someone? No. So why even bother with it anymore? He had a perfect way out of his suffering right then and there.
Hiding in his scorching bunker with his mother, Dean knew they would be one of the few people in world to survive the 10-minute bombing battle that ensued. Nothing was spared, neither the living, nor the inanimate. All would have been burnt to a crisp, and only slight reminders of what used to be, would be apparent.
“No,” he said aloud to himself, “No. No. No!” he shouted louder.
Dean felt no remorse or what he had done. He did what was necessary to stay alive. He had always managed to do just that.
Dean’s next goal would be to find a safe haven. He’d been trying to do that this whole time, but luck wasn’t on his side. He had been led to many places, in which civilization seemed promising, but all were left in a state in which was too painful to describe in grim detail. Dead bodies that were ripped apart, tiny bugs covering all the bodies. Dusty bones, lined all the concrete streets, as if the people who once lived there were barbarians. The tents and huts where people once lived were now torn into shreds, with a pungent odor still emanating from the decaying carcasses that lay, lifeless, on the floor.
Collecting himself, Dean picked up his possessions and continued with suicide still lingering in his mind. Strutting on in the desert that seemed endless, Dean started to sing a song. He didn’t care that his throat was dry and that he had no water source, he wanted to sing. So he did. He sang a tune of sadness, and it the song seemed to be just like the desert, never-ending. “I’m sailing away, set an open course for the virgin seas,” he sung, “I’ve got to be free...” This was his favorite song as a child. His mom would just play it over and over again on their car rides together.
Dean had plenty of food. He had spent all his parents’ and his own savings on canned rations, and pre-cooked meals. But they were near their expiry dates. Dean understood the state that he was in, and often wondered if everything would just be easier if he ended his own life, so he didn’t have to suffer. Every time he’d just shrug off the negative thoughts and bring back the positive ones. Thoughts that made him feel like his own life was worth saving. Such as his promise to his mother, that he would stay alive, just for her.
Dean started to tear up. His body slowly being flooded by his emotions. The sad thoughts that cluttered his brain, was too much to handle. He needed something reassuring. Just as the thoughts pop up, the sandy fog clears, Dean sees a cliff in the distance. Presuming it as another hallucination he shrugged it off. However, as he neared the edge, it started to seem more real. The rugged rocks and the grains of sand, tumbling downwards into the large canyon.
After traveling for a while in any direction that seemed suitable, Dean grew more and more tired. He had lost all hope in ever escaping the swamp in which he was in for over a week. But just as he was going to succumb to his fatigue, Dean saw a clearing,
“It’s a sign.” Thought Dean, “God wants me to take a leap of faith.”
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Dean dropped his bags and all his materials just to make it to the cliff. He looked down and saw
nothing but darkness. The abyss was waiting for him. Dean prepared himself on the ledge, one foot in front of the other. His knees felt weak, like they could collapse at any moment. It was now or never. It didn’t seem like there was another option, except for traveling who knows how long into another direction. He was done being a roamer. He just wanted to know if he was meant to survive.
and splashes as they attempted to hydrate themselves. The windows opened and shut along with the howling winter storm, tapping out the rhythms of the song, banging against the hard, wooden frame that managed to last through the years. Little grasshoppers strummed on their wings on the frame, adding their own little songs to the cabin, mixing with the other sounds.
His muscles grew tense, face dripping with sweat. In his head a million thoughts and fears bounced around. Then, as if his thoughts were the fog on a windy day, cleared out. Without a single care in he world, he jumped.
Upstairs, the sheets on the bed billowed, creating a deep gusty sound, laughing throatily and merrily at the orchestra. Little squirrels found comfort under the covers, snuggling into the goose feather mattress, sighing and yawning contently, their breaths adding a tempo to the cabin.
Thinking about the promise he made to his mother, he said aloud, “Please let there be something at the bottom, please.” ✍
In the attic, the radiator creaked, coughing out the lyrics to the song. It hissed when dust got too close, shooing it away with hot sparks bursting out, scorching the floor beside it, which were already rotted through time. Bats fluttered their wings, awaiting a careless bug to approach, their wings adding even more noise to the house.
SURVIVING THE STORM
So the house and its residents sang, somehow harmonizing together. The sounds screamed above the noise of the storm, covering up the chaos of snow and ice. It beckoned for more to come, for more to join in the merry tune. Soon, it seemed that the whole forest was singing along with the cabin, creating such a racket.
By Agnes Shan
The little broken cabin in the forest wakes up
The house sang through the days, its music lasting through the winter, the sounds lulling the animals into an almost comatose state of utter bliss.
at night, the shattered lights carefully decorated with fireflies, glowing in the dark, welcoming all the forest animals to stay under the old roof, hardly used in years. It reaches out into the forest, grabbing the life, enticing them towards it, longing for the company of other creatures.
The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, and before long, the snow was gone. The trees began sprouting green buds, still damp from the snow. Life around the cabin flourished as well, the moss drying off and stretching further over the large boulders. Daisies and clovers popped through the forest floor, adding color to the otherwise green scenery. The cabin itself stayed the same, the wood rotted and filled with ants with moss clothing half of it, the holes barely patched up in the dilapidated ceiling.
The radiator started crackling, aware of the presence of others, happily warming the cabin on the cold nights of snow. It was always happy when the little animals sat with it, as it was too secluded from the outer world for others to enjoy the years upon years of stories the cabin had to tell.
The animals that once resided in the cabin sprung out again, happy to finally be able to sprint around the forest. They dashed through the trees, hopped up and down, their energy bottled up and over the top. They stampeded away from the cabin, leaving it all by its lonesome again. The cabin’s floorboards gave one last sigh. The windows crashed shut one last time. Even the once lively radiator seemed to be sad, the heat fading from it in a long, loud whistle.
The stairs croaked out a tune as little bunnies hopped up them, it’s voice rusted and hardly used. It still sang merrily though, happy to have the tiny little critters accompany its song. The refrigerator and freezer, leaking, would sing along with the stairs as the water dripped and dropped on the cold stone floor. Mice scampered through the water, making splices
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The cabin overlooked the forest and watched its friends hop about, climb the trees, feel the warmth of the sun, and dance through the grass. How it longed to be a part of them, to jump through the daisies with the rabbits, to dance between the trees with the deer, to scale the trees with the squirrel. But it was not to be, for it was a cabin, and it sat there amidst the daisies and clovers. The wooden floorboard dampened and rotted, and its only companion was the occasional ant that came to find food. The only thing it could do now was watch the animals in their merriment, spinning and twirling through the forest—a whirlwind of happiness. They were here, then there: they were everywhere. Yet, to the cabin, they were nowhere. They animals were always running around the cabin, but never in, as if taunting it. So the cabin’s windows were kept closed, except for a tiny crack. Everything in the cabin was sleeping. The radiator, realizing that no one was there anymore, shut down. The lights remained cracked, the fireflies no longer there to light them. The refrigerator continued dripping, although there no longer was any mice there to sip lightly at the water.
The cabin was swept up, door first, completely ripped off its rusty hinges. Next the walls collapsed, the floorboards crashing down with it. The beds and chairs and bureaus all followed the floorboards into the cyclone, letting go of the earthen floor. The refrigerator and radiator held on, but to no avail—they were swept up as well. The hurricane continued its rampage through the forest, until there was nothing left except the cellar, that stayed safe against all odds. The things carefully stowed away in it were unharmed, save for a few papers that were half soaked with water. The forest was left barren, left with the strongest of trees and quite a few stumps. The grass and flowers looked patchy, growing in thick patches here and there. What remained of the once beautiful forest tried to recover from the suddenness of it all, there for only a split second before disappearing once again after taking what it needed. On the far side of the forest, it had dumped all that it had taken, a large hoard of rubbish and dirt, a gigantic mountain of useless materials that would never be used again. The windows stared at the refrigerator, which in turn stared at the broken radiator. The radiator had a long, but deadly crack running through it, fatal. It no longer gave those long, hissing sounds it’d always had. The windows were shattered as well, but not to the point of no repair. The refrigerator would never be used again, along with the radiator.
”The helicopter didn’t care.”
The cabin seemed to be asleep, barely noticed, faded far into the background of the lush forest. The floorboards and stairs no longer sang out their stories, for nobody was there to chorus with them. And for weeks, the house remained silent, sleeping, peaceful.
But then it came, the wind picking up as it got closer and closer, whirling around and around, a spinning tube of death. The twister spun its way through the forest, mercilessly picking up the animals and trees, tearing them out by the roots. The bears roared at the wind, but it raged on, sweeping all that dared to get close. The house woke up, sensing the danger, its shutters screaming. The rusted pots and pans were shrieking, everything was running about, in a frenzy. In the cellar, everything was calm and peaceful still, not realizing the danger the hurricane brought with it. Upstairs, everything was a lost cause, a certain destruction approaching. The windows began to scream out their last notes, the refrigerator’s water was still dripping, everything was moving at a much faster pace. The cabin was harmonized once again, but it was a chorus of chaos, everyone singing the same shrill notes of panic.
The oak bed was split in two, the floorboards littered everywhere. Only the cellar and the windows remained, the cellar completely oblivious to the entire event. The windows were in terrible shape, but could still be repaired with a few nails and some wood. There was no one there to repair it, though, no one to patch up what remained of the house. The window stared up at the sky, watching the tiny spot of a helicopter zip about, watching the damage the hurricane had caused. From below, the cellar could also see the helicopter, and prayed silently that it would save the rest of the house, fix it up. The helicopter didn’t care. It stared intently at the massacre for a while, before flying away once again, the propellers spinning around and around. The cellar and the windows gave up hope, and remained as they were on the ground. There was no way they’d be fixed now, so far from the rest of the world they were a lost cause.
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The few deer that had survived hopped into the destroyed forest again, nibbling at the remainder of the greenery. Badgers and moles, who were underground from the entire event peeked out again, carefully inspecting the rubbish pile. Little bugs came out again, crawling over the items, burrowing into the wood. The cellar and the window both stared quite amused by the little critters.
THE GIFTS OF SHADOW By David Wang
A soft wind swayed through the trees, running around the windows, picking them up and making it sing. Instead of the once steady beat it had always rasped out, the windows began croaking out a different tune, the rhythms inconsistent.
It was a normal vacation before everything went wrong. Lily and her husband James went onto a vacation. Just a normal vacation at the beach. They went swimming in the beautiful ocean... Then, Lily glanced back. Near their towels, a new bag, decorated beautifully, stood near the sand. There was a label: To Lily.
Creak, creak, SLAM! SLAM! Creeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaak. Creak, slam, creak. The windows’ curtains billowed with it, whistling the new tune. The animals, hypnotized by the strange new song, all gathered around the pile of trash, gazing cautiously at the window. They breathed in sync to the song, and all was good with the world again.
Lily, curiously, walked towards the bag. Carefully, she opened it. Elegant, colorful flowers, inside the bag. She didn't dare take it, assuming it was some kind of trap. She walked back to the hotel immediately after that.
A cricket hopped through the tall green grass, already overgrown from lack of attention. The rest of the cricket’s orchestra had already disappeared through the grass, hopping gracefully through the trees. But the cricket could sense something else in the woods, something wonderful even.
"Why are you in such a hurry, anyways?" James asked. "Oh... nothing." Lily lied. "It's just a sun allergy." "You never told me you had sun allergies!" said James. "Maybe you'd like to stay in?"
She quickly sped through the tall weeds and shrubs, as if knowing where the cellar door was hidden under a large clump of dandelions. She could still hear the chirrup chirrups of her fellow orchestra members, but she turned heedless to their cries and continued through the greenery to her target.
But Lily's attention was not on James, but another anonymous package outside the window. She opened the package. Inside, a golden watch glittered. Lily frowned. Are those a surprise gift from her husband?
She found the door easily enough, almost falling through one of the holes. Delicately circling the area, she finally mustered the courage to leap into the cellar, landing on the floor fully intact.
She thought. It'd won't be as fun for him if I asked him about it. She went down to get some water, and besides a water dispenser, a beautiful bag laid on the floor. She couldn't take it anymore. Forgetting all about her thirst, she burst into the hotel room.
The cricket was amazed by the cellar, everything still there after so many years. The papers had all but disintegrated into an orderly pile of ash on the floor. Several old glasses were covered with mold, and filled with water.
"Did you put down the gifts?" Lily demanded. "Gifts? What gifts?" James asked, mystified.
Despite the large fluffy green rug of moss on the floor, the cellar had survived all conditions, it’s somewhat plain decor remaining. It was what it did, survive through the most severe circumstances. A lone survivor, waiting in the shrubs and greenery, waiting to someday be found again. ✍
"Oh... Never mind," replied Lily. If her husband didn't know about the gifts, then he obviously didn't give it to her. James frowned. "Why don't you sleep for a
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moment? You must be tired.�
In her dreams, she saw a person at her hotel, wrapped in black cloaks. He walked fast and without a sound. With a closer look, she noticed that the person was hovering an inch above the ground!
Lily sighed. “Okay." She lay on the bed, thinking she won't be able to sleep after everything that happened. A second later, she closed her eyes and plunged into dreams.
There's even more. Where ever the person went, lights went dark, and the shadows seem to manipulate like the man radiated darkness.
In her dreams, she saw a person at her hotel, wrapped in black cloaks. He walked fast and without a sound. With a closer look, she noticed that the person was hovering an inch above the ground!
The person kept floating and went into the elevator. There were people inside, but they didn't seem to see the dark person.
There's even more. Where ever the person went, lights went dark, and the shadows seem to manipulate like the man radiated darkness.
"Grab the dark person!" Lily wanted to shout, but her voice won't work. Then, the dark person turned at dream Lily. She passed right through her and pointed at her hotel room. The door clicked, and the dark person walked in.
The person kept floating and went into the elevator. There were people inside, but they didn't seem to see the dark person.
She woke with a start and blinked.
"Grab the dark person!" Lily wanted to shout, but her voice won't work.
"Lily? Something wrong?" asked James. Then, the dark person turned at dream Lily. She passed right through her and pointed at her hotel room. The door clicked, and the dark person walked in.
"Oh... nothing." Lily replied.
She woke with a start and blinked.
Then she found another gift bag, and James stared at it, not hiding his wonder... and what was it in his eyes? Lily thought. Then she knew. Suspicion.
"Lily? Something wrong?" asked James.
"Umm... Lily? What was that?" Asked James.
"Oh... nothing." Lily replied.
Lily didn't reply. Instead, she opened the bag. A box, glittering gold, with "To Lily" on it, was in it. She opened the bag.
She lay on the bed, thinking she won't be able to sleep after everything that happened. A second later, she closed her eyes and plunged into dreams.
"A GOLDEN RING?" Exclaimed Lily. "Excuse me?" said James, frowning. "Is something going on there?" Lily should have explained, but she was lost in thoughts. James bit his lips and took a deep breath. "Lily?" His voice was extremely soft, like . "Is there something you want to tell me?" "No." Lily shook her head desperatly. She knew she'd lost her husband's trust. "Okay. Then why don't I go down to do some work?" said James, and he was gone before Lily knew it. She was so tired that she fell asleep instantly, again, since her last dream woke her up in about ten minutes.
Illustration by Claire Lee
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The same dream came to her, but only this time, his husband was in it. The dark person noticed James. "Ahh. The one's husband." The shadow person said. His voice was impossibly deep. He pointed at James and he collapsed on the hotel floor.
three sections. In fact, we had tramcars connecting the three school buildings. Today, when I rode the tram to the common area, I fell asleep on the ride ended up with a very bad dream. I missed the terminal station. I guess the driver did not see me when he got off. When I woke up, I found myself in complete darkness.
"I will take you." the dark man whispered in dream Lily's mind, and Lily had a feeling that he was whispering to James too.
“Hello?” I stood up. Silence. “Is there anybody there?”
The dark man waved his hand, and the shadows manipulated, and covered James. Then, the shadows went back to normal, and James was gone.
Silence. I drew my pocket flashlight out and pressed the button, a large ray of light shot out of the bulb. I waved it around, but no one was in sight. I opened the door of the car. “Huh?”
"Nooooooo!" Screamed dream Lily, and her voice worked.
I was underground, in a place I’d never been to in the school area. I walked around, realizing there must be at least fifty tramcars parked here. This was a parking lot. I trotted to the edge of the parking lot.
She woke up with a shadow at the hotel room door, and the shadows came to Lily to cover her. Then, everything went black. ✍
WELCOME TO LIVE ACADEMY By Kevin Cui
“Welcome to Live Academy!” announced Mr. Ymedaca, our school principal with excitement. “A new school year has started again, I would like you all to report to your classroom.” Mr. Ymedaca waved his hands around like a bird. He dismissed us from the auditorium. My name is Tommy Alperton. My family and I had just moved to Riverview, Dad had found a new job here, but I lost all my friends from my old neighborhood. As I walked down the hallway, I saw other students chatting, running and eating. Ms. Lydia was my new homeroom teacher. She was very nice, her dress was as colorful as a rainbow, and her earrings sparkled under the gleaming sun. Our school was the biggest school in this town—it has
I felt a budge on the wall. I held my flashlight above it, observing it. It was a big red button, above it there was a little sign, it read:
HALT! DO NOT PRESS! “Should I press it?” I whispered to myself. “What will happen?” But I made up my mind, I leaned my finger against the button, and pushed it hard. I looked around. Nothing really seemed to change. Suddenly, the ground underneath me started to shake wildly. The ground underneath me opened after a few seconds. “What the…” I managed to shout as I fell into unknown hole. That was the last thing I remember before I fainted. “Wow! “I’m still alive!” I exclaimed. Torches were lit everywhere, golden carvings decorated the walls, color gems dropped from the ceiling, it looked like an underground palace. It made me remember the ancient Egypt unit we did in Social Studies in my old school. I noticed deep canyon was in front of me. The hall was at the other side of the canyon. I had nowhere to go: above me was the tunnel I had fallen down, the three sides were blocked with solid walls that wouldn’t budge. It took me about ten minutes to find a plate on the left wall. I flicked the plate off the wall easily, and found another big red button. Above it, were the words:
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WARNING 2: DO NOT PRESS! “Should I press it?” I whispered to myself. “What will happen?” I made up my mind. I leaned my finger against the button, and pushed it hard, again. Immediately, a iron bridge branched out from the cliff, connecting the hall. I walked to the other side. There were two enormous doors with golden handles, I used all my might to open the door only a crack, and I slipped in. Then, I found myself facing with two armored, strong-looking, armed and tasked guards. Neither of them looked like they were nice people. They had badges on their hairy chests. It was an skeleton logo with words Ymedaca The Evil™ printed on it. “Where did you come from?” one of them thundered. “Students are not allowed in this area!” The other held me by my shirt. “I didn’t came here on purpose!” I screamed. But it only made them even more suspicious. “We’ll take you to see Ymedaca!” Suddenly, I felt something in my pocket. I drew it out, it was my pocket flashlight. I had an idea. “Hey!” I punched one guard in his pig-like mouth, and shined the flashlight right in his eye. The other reacted quickly. “Robert!?” He blubbered. I shined the light in his eye too. He dropped me suddenly, I bolted toward the next door. But unfortunately, the surveillance camera captured the whole scene. “Ugh! That disrespectful boy ruined my plan!” Ymedaca was furious. He was watching at the control center, replaying the scene again and again. I made my way through the hall, came to a problem immediately. The Hall narrowed into a hallway, the hallway narrowed into a passage, the passage was just wide and tall enough for me to walk through. Soon, I came to an end, there was a metal door. “Search!” Ymedaca thundered. “I command you to search every corner of this fortress!”
continued. “Don’t let the boy get out of my sight!” While the guards are searching. Tommy has already made it safely to the secret of Ymedaca. I was about to open the door, but before I could do anything, a voice boomed behind me. “I have been waiting for you for a long time. Our hide and seek game ends here!” I spun around. “I knew some students would be smart enough to break into my secret fortress.” he hissed. “That’s why I have guards here guarding 24 hours everyday.” He sat in his golden sofa, while two guards brought him a snack. “I’m sorry ,Tommy,” he whispered. “You will not leave this fortress, ever. I call this Fort Sinister! Now that I’ve got what I wanted, I guess I will have to end your life, and you will never know the secret of this wonderful plan,” he continued. “But before I do that, I will tell you one more thing, my full name is Ymedaca The Evil, but if you read it backwards and minus ‘the’, it turns out to be Live Academy! Executer!” “Tommy, time to get up!” I opened my eyes slowly. I realized I was safe on my bed, in my house. I was never in Live Academy. It never existed, but, if you are reading this, you should not say that Live Academy never existed. Only because… I had last minute chances to pack my suitcase and boxes. We were moving today, to Riverview. We carried the boxes and suitcases out on to the truck, dad drove the truck. Eventually, after 5 hours of driving, we arrived at our new house in Riverview. It was a rainy day in Riverview, we had to unpack all my stuff today, because school was starting tomorrow. I walked in the great hall of my new school, it was decorated with balloons, and confetti sprayed everywhere, students talked everywhere. The floor with made of granite stone. I walked in the auditorium and took a seat. “Welcome to Live Academy, students!” announced the principal with excitement. “A new school year has started again, I would like you all to report to your classroom!” he waved his hands around like a bird. He dismissed us from the auditorium. Our school was the biggest school in this town, soon I found out it has 3 sections. In fact, we had tramcars connecting the 3 school buildings! Today, I rode the tram to the common area, I fell asleep on the ride, and I had a very bad dream yesterday. I missed the terminal station, but I guess the driver did not see me when he got off. When I woke up, I found myself in complete darkness… ✍
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ABUSIVE
WHY I’M LATE By Jenny Song
By Stephanie Cheng Based off a scene in the novel You&You&You by Per Nilsson.
“Jenny Song, why are you so late? Mrs Green screeched at me.
I thought we were in love. I thought he loved me. I thought I loved him. Though it turns out “my stereotypes are true” (Nilsson 188). My immigrant gangster boyfriend, Victor, hits me. Hard. Then he apologizes and rubs my bruises and whispers and my ears and makes me want to do whatever he says. That, surprisingly, works every time.
I looked over to Mai-Ling. Come on Mai get me an excuse!! I thought to my self. But she just nodded her head at Mrs Green. “Well. I was looking for my pencil case…and then I found it on my bed. I picked it up, but then the moving van came in and busted my bed. I had to go to Ikea but I didn’t have enough money. So I went to the Australian NASA. They had to give me a job to make money to buy a new bed. I had to do training in a few minutes and then they sent me to Mars…I was sort of lost. So I wandered around and found a robotic dead dog. I looked at it, and touched the ‘on’ button. The dog turned on, and it became my friend. But then, he talked!
I was walking home with Victor. Casually. Of course, it would be like any other day, where he would come over to my apartment and, well… “Make love to me” (99). Normal. It was just as we entered my apartment and I closed the door when Victor hit me. Though it may have been more or less like a “quick smack” (98), I collapsed. I wasn’t weak. I could have taken that kind of hit any day. It had only hurt like hell, because it was my boyfriend who had hit me. Him, of all people. I stayed there, on the floor, restlessly with my hair covering my face. Then out of nowhere he pulls me up to the wall, “upright in front of him” (98). He had been scarier than any robber or thief that could hold me at knifepoint. That was because my “love” for him was my weakness. “The person who’s in love is always at a disadvantage” (185).
He said his name was Robort Steamer. So then we got back on the spaceship and returned to NASA. I asked those guys if I could keep the dog, but they said they had to study it…and so I was devastated. I bought a new bed and I slept for a few minutes because I was so tired of the jet lag. Then, I realized that I had to get to school, but it was too late. So I ran and ran and ran….” I trailed off, tired of talking.
The story went like this, more or less. The two of us were supposed to meet at the bar. Then I spot him. Victor. “Three girls are standing around him” (94) with his hand on their backsides. I can tell he’s having a good time. The thing is, I’m not mad. Jealous? No. Sad? No. I can tell Victor can see me, even just out of the corner of his eye. I decide “to teach the guy that I love a lesson” (96). I lean in towards a man in the corner of the bar, around his twenties. Instantly, we connect. Instantly, Victor jumps up and I pretend to notice him. Well I guess that made him mad.
I took a deep breath. “That is why I’m late.” I smirked triumphantly. Everyone gaped at me, even Owen (my evil ex) and Gwyneth, my fake friend. I think Mrs. Green’s gape was the widest. She just gestured me to my seat. I sit next to Owen, so I looked at him and his so called “valuable” phone. Being stealthy, I took it, and he didn’t notice! ✍
“‘You don’t dis me. Ever. Do you get it?’ (99)” He says. His voice, sterner then ever before. I felt like if I said the wrong thing he would throw me against the wall. The only thing I can do to calm him down and prevent him from hurting me more is doing what we came to my apartment for. Of course, he strokes my hair and “lovingly” kisses me and he thinks that will make up for what he did. No way. Because those aren’t kisses of love. ✍
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ANTHONY’S FANFICTION TALE By Gabby Abando
By Jared Murphy
I swear, if I have to take a screenshot of a fandom post I am going to short circuit.
Anthony hate bees. But bees likes him. Coffee lightens him up every morning. him.
After she does her homework all I can feel is the dragging of the mouse and hear the clicking of the screenshot. Percabeth and Caleo left and right I think it’s becoming a real problem. Her fingers pound the keyboard and she types at rapid-fire speed. She doesn’t even have to look at the keyboard to type at all! I don’t know if it’s just me or can I start to feel dents in the keys? She has no idea how to wash her hands! After school on the bus she opens me up and writes her Fanfictions, and her hands are all dusty and grimy from whatever she’s been doing all day.
Drugs disgust
Elephants are too big for his car. Face
painting is his specialty.
Guns scares him.
Hexagon is his middle name. iPod is his only friend. Jumps to sleep, every night.
Kite flying
makes him think of wanting tie himself up on the kite, and ask someone to fly it for him.
Llama once ate his socks. Meteor fell on him, but the grim reaper decided that he should have a chance to live because of his stupidity.
Oh, sometimes I wish she’d treat me with more care. When the teacher gets cross and tells the students to close their laptops, she doesn’t close my lid. Oh, no. She slams my lid. I’m surprised that my screen hasn’t cracked yet. She’s spilled so many liquids on me from water to iced tea, I can feel the circuit boards inside my body starting to get sticky. It’s disgusting. And when the internet doesn’t work, she blames it on ME! She pounds on the monitor with her fist, and yells in frustration. What do I have anything to do with internet connections? If you are planning to destroy a piece of technology, at least destroy the internet router!
Nauseous is what he gets, when twirling in his living room, nonstop. him.
Octopus try to suffocate
Paper gave him a paper cut once and he
didn’t stop crying, ‘till someone was forced to take him to the hospital. wants to play dress-up.
Quilt is used when he
Rolling down the hill, is
what he normally do on his freetime.
Saxophone makes him think of the octopus. Tutu delights him. Umbrellas are after him. Vaccines makes him feel lightheaded. Wax paper was in his digestive system once.
Xylophone is his favorite band. Yak is his pet.
She never puts me to sleep, she never shuts me down! All through the night I am up and awake, my brightness turned on full blast, buzzing with energy from the charger she’s plugged into me all day.
Zebra styled clothes, are his favorite. I bust open the classroom door after a whole morning of sleeping. Class has
I keep reminding her to backup her files, but she just won’t listen! Every time I notify her, ‘HEY! YOU’D BETTER BACKUP OR YOU’LL BE SORRY!’ she doesn’t want to listen to me! And then she gets mad at me when I lose all my memory and lose all her files! Hey, if you wanted to keep those screenshots of Rick Riordan’s tweets, you
already started. The teacher looked at me with angry grey eyes. ✍
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you should’ve just listened!
“But-” Her mom glared at her, meaning that she shouldn’t tell that they were only visiting Santa’s fake workshop, since it doesn’t exist.
And here she is, writing all my thoughts about her on a Word Document. Okay. You want more? Well I’ll tell you more! You never-
She closed her mouth and pretended to zip it and throw the key away. He mom nodded, satisfied that her daughter would keep her mouth shut about this.
What? What’s this?
She looked over to her sister who was sitting in the middle area, where there were about four passenger’s seats in the area. She was bouncing up and down on her seat and her seat belt in place, keeping her from running around in the plane screaming, “I’m going to see Santa’s Workshop!!!”
YOU’RE GOING TO SLIDE THE SCREEN TO WORK ON YOUR FANFICTION? AGAIN? DISHONOR! DISHONOR ON YOU, DISHONOR ON YOUR COW!
One of the flight attendant, who had golden locks escaping from her high bun underneath her cap, came over to her seat and said, “Miss, we’re about to land, and the behalf of your safety, you should stop bouncing.” Stacy flushed, her cheeks turning bright red, and nodded. Paige smiled and shook her head. Oh, Stacy, she thought.
You shame me, human. ✍
THE FAMILY VACAY
“Dear passengers, we are about to land on the North Pole airport. Please stow your table, and put on you seat belt, for safety measures,” The pilot reported from the plane’s speaker.
By Alyssa Adira
“Oh my god, look at that! That’s so pretty!” shrieked Stacy.
Paige sighs as she looks through the window. The thick white clouds blocked her view of the lovely blue sky. Paige was on a family vacation with her family to North Pole, mostly because her little sister Stacy, wanted to know if Santa’s workshop was there.
“Shh!” the passengers said. Paige looked through the window again, and saw the snow covered mountain and the airport appearing as the plane approached. Its beauty struck her. I can’t believe we’re finally here.
She groaned miserably and slouched back to her passenger seat. “Mom, why do we have to go to this trip again?” she asked out of boredom. Her mother rolled her eyes in annoyance, since her oldest daughter kept asking her the same question over the 100th time! “Well, we’re going to the trip because your little sister wants to see Santa’s workshop, and this is a great way to spend some family time together!”
And this time, she felt happy.
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✍
them, ignoring the protest my ankle was making, and tackled Clarence. He faltered for a millisecond, and then glanced towards Dean, who responded my tapping me around the shoulder, causing me to turn, eyes shining and making a slightly insane, lopsided grin, before Dean grabbed me.
Replace
He stared into my eyes and spoke, ever-careful: “Faith! Faith Allison! Calm down! He’s not Clarence Milligan …”
By Catherine Lin
“What do you mean he’s not Clarence?” I screeched, unable to comprehend.
“Clarence Milligan, time of death: 10:45a.m.” the nurse announced, shaking her head. The others simultaneously stepped away as well, pulling a white sheet up over his pale features. I couldn’t tell which had stepped outside to face me directly, with a “sorry about your fate” look on her face.
Novak laid his hands on my shoulder and explained: “Miss, I was not aware that this…body had a twin. I am Clarence Milligan…” Now I’m just more confused. Dean sighed, “Faith, Clarence died, this is his…A.I thingy, here to continue his career. We have already sealed the hospital’s mouth, what about yours?” I stuttered, mouth agape: “W-well, I-I guess um…I won’t tell.”
Clarence Milligan was my only friend, a renowned actor that I had met during one of my visits to the lake.
Finally, I steeled my resolve. “But, Clarence…You have to answer a question.”
“Why? Why him?” I screamed, tears suddenly falling as my knees went weak, and I collapsed, on the clinical marble floor of the hospital. The nurse bent down, and hauled me up onto a chair. “I’m sorry…” she trailed off, turning around to help the others roll the gurney down the aisle. Standing up, I ran. I laid my hands on the metal, peeling off the sheet, staring at his lifeless face. Leaning down, I gently slipped his metal ring of his finger, pocketing it. He had wanted me to have it. During one of my rarer visits when he was hospitalized, my Stanford classes making a big dent in my social life, he had latched onto my hand, telling me to keep the ring after he dies, so here I am, numbly walking towards my impala, toying the thing with my finger. Slipping into the car, I revved the engine, and headed to where he worked to bring the news… Arriving on the nicely built structure, I slipped inside, and sauntered up to the front desk, asking for Dean. Dean Singer, best friend of Clarence. Hearing the elevator ding, I glanced over, hopeful, as Dean slid out, arms around a man slightly shorter than he was. The mystery man looked tense as they approached me, and glanced up from where his gaze had been fixed on his boots. My starling grey eyes met his, and I faltered. Clarence Milligan stood there, unharmed, when I just saw him breathe his final breath. Running towards
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“Yes, Miss. What do you wish of me?” he asked, slightly monotone, but his eyes sparkled with a curiosity that Clarence, the real one, could match bit for bit. And for a moment, my voice faltered, mind flying back through all the time that the real Clarence and I had spent together, before jerking myself back to reality. “Stay with me like the.... like Clarence.” I said, then I continued “and I’ll call you Milligan.” Clarence sounds…too… I thought in my head. “Yes, Sir.” ✍
The Hunt Volcanic Wings By Philip Ma
When my class was studying ancient hunters and gatherers, we were asked to write a paragraph through the perspective of one of the hunters.
By Eric Liu, Hugo Tulus, and David Gong Lava solidifying, wings extending, the wings of stone took flight. The wings of stone are as fragile as an infant’s hands. The wings are the color of the pulchritudinous grey hound in the cold winter night. Trying to find the searing hot lava in the cold dark statue is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. The thick smell of ash filled the atmosphere. The powerful wings of stone shatters before dawn. ✍
We waited early in the morning for any animals to take a drink from the river in front of us. We waited for what felt like an eternity, and then something big happened. A Mammoth showed up. The leader of the hunt told us we couldn’t take any chances. We would surround the creature and spear it all at once. Once we all got in position, we all threw our spears at its legs. The mammoth cried out in pain. All of us charged toward the crippled beast, axes and knifes in hand. I collected my spear after we finished it off. I noticed it’s smaller than the ones I’ve seen before. I must be an infant mammoth that got lost from her mother. So sad. I murmured a “Sorry” before chopping it up and carrying it back to our camp. ✍
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