J.N. Burnett's Literary Magazine Club // Volume 7, Issue 3 : SHATTER

Page 19

ft. works from the jn burnett student body 7-3 7-3 7-3 april 2023
shatter shatter shatter

editor's note editor's note

Dear reader,

What does it mean to shatter? The physical cracking and breaking of a piece, the cascading rhythm as it falls. Or is it a feeling? A heartbreak. An infectious ill, pieces of ourselves spilled out without refrain. Or could it be freeing? Like an exhaled breath kept held for decades. A simple release of the shards pierced beneath. Or perhaps, could it be a beauty? A sight to see. The Japanese kintsugi, made solely through the art of a broken ceramic, cracks painted over in gold. A beautiful thing created in deep despair.

SHATTER captures the beauty and depth caught beneath the surface of a shattered thing. Step into the hearts and minds of the JNB artists as we explore the heartbreak and healing, the delicate and free; perhaps we can even put it back together, piece by piece.

table of contents table of contents

on the cover

i didn't know // anki tang

editor's note contents

the team

jam-packed spaces of a monster // zoë lo shattered me // ariana mahal

i didn't know // anki tang

crybaby // zoey liang

shadow // hugo hui

filled to the brim // cherry cheng

reality check // tiffany li

smokin' // yuyu liu

QUARTER TANK OF GAS, ONE PISTOL, & ORANGE SODA // erica yang

eyes beyond the screen // elisha cheung

complete fragments // sherry zhuo

book reviews // yuyu liu

the city // michelle xu

αφηρημένη // queenie fung

disillusioned // rachael zheng

Use Your Voice feature thank you!

2 3 4 5 6 8 9 10 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 20 22 23 32 39

the team the team

executives

creative + visual director

yuyu liu

graphic designers

armaan khunkhun

rachael zheng

tayla barbosa

tiffany li

cherry cheng

social media + marketing managers

samantha chow

tayla barbosa

carina chen

contributors

editors-in-chief

madie lee

samantha cham

ariana mahal

secretary & treasurer

tracy yang

writers zoë lo, ariana mahal, sherry zhuo, yuyu liu, rachael zheng

photographers

anki tang, zoey liang, michelle xu

artists

hugo hui, cherry cheng, tiffany li, yuyu liu, erica yang, elisha cheung, queenie fung

jam packed jam packed

a playlist

mosaic records

drew barrymore

girls like me don't cry

skin tight (feat.steve lacy)

devil by the window

prey clean oh no!

nobody as the world caves in rises the moon

brrr crash I AM new year's day lost ozone keep you mine

#icanteven (feat.french montana)

heartless mirror

scan to listen to our playlist and give us a follow!

SZA

thuy

ravyn lanae, steve lacy

TOMORROW X TOGETHER

the neighbourhood

taylor swift

MARINA

mitski

matt maltese

liana flores

kin petras

charli XCX

IVE

taylor swift

linkin park

chase atlantic

NOTD, shy martin

the neighbourhood, french montana

the weekend

kendrick lamar

SPACES OF A SPACES OF A SPACES OF A SPACES OF A

Have you seen me before?

Just search up

Monstera

I am literally beautiful because I have holes in my leaves

Yet I'm a monster

But I'm still beautiful

No, stop letting my beauty shine

It doesn't exist

Let me spread my intoxicating spores

I long to be in the humid jungle

But they took me, dug me up, put me in a chic little pot so I looked as uniform as the tame They cut away my faults, scars and wilts They let my spaces shine While others get cut away When they form spaces in their leaves

I can't bear to fathom why I'm here only to be admired for my looks, to be called Swiss cheese Let me showcase my faults, my wilts my death Because it's all possible

M M M OOONNNSSSTTTEEERRR

I'm put into a pot I can grow into but I'm still confined

I long to be in the green jungle

Where I am a part of those with scars and wilts And imperfections

Where my roots can fly free into the grimy earth

Yet I have holes in my leaves

And somehow loved for the emptiness

They should've let me be They should've left me wild

I died once I grew back

A lot of us have

But I'm only beautiful for the uneven, jagged spaces in my leaves that no one else has Spaces that look like I got ambushed by a fat caterpillar

watching this busy-bodied world pass by Filled with people striving to be amazing and not stopping to see reality

So let me showcase my faults

Let me show you I'm not perfect

Because what am I if I'm perfect?

I'm nothing

I'm just a plant that was somehow better because of my jagged, uneven, spaces of emptiness

ËËË
O O O 7
ZZZ O O O
LLL

Feel for the sky but I all feel

Are shards of glass in my spine

Can't help but bend back under myself

A shattered handstand of a thing

Acting quick to please

On my broken glass trapeze

As I stop to see

The life that's waiting Out for me

Hear in a faint twinkling beat

Words of fate whisper out to me

For these are my eyes

My ears

And my tears

Me against my own fears

Yet,

The shattered pieces of me

Tip-toe across the beam

Battling the biggest fear

Of becoming completely and incandescently

A new unshattered me

8
ariana mahal
anki tang 9

CRYBABY CRYBABY zoey liang

CRYBABY

shadow shadow

hugo hui hugo hui shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . shadow . 12

filled to the brim

cherry cheng 13

RRREEEAAA LLL TTTYYY III

C C C HHHEEECCCKKK

tiffany li
yuyu liu 15
e r i c a y a n g 16

sherry zhuo

I allow myself

To shatter beyond repair

Until my reflection

Is no longer

A mirror of expectations

Their version of me

Is forever broken

But oh, world

I have never felt

More complete

c o m p l e t e f r a g m e n t s

complete fragments complete f c o m p l e t e f r a g m e n t s

complete fragments complete f c o m p l e t e f r a g m e n t s

complete fragments complete f c o m p l e t e f r a g m e n t s

complete fragments complete f

c o m p l e t e f r a g m e n t s

complete fragments complete f

e l i s h a c
h e u n g
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book reviews: the young elites the young elites the young elites

author: marie lu

genre: teen fantasy

Book 1: The Young Elites (344 pages)

Book 2: The Rose Society (395 pages)

Book 3: The Midnight Star (316 pages

Summary:

The Young Elites series follows the path of the villain protagonist, Adelina in the politically unstable kingdom of Kennetra. Abused, manipulated and betrayed since childhood, Adelina plots to repay those who hurt her with the same fear and pain they brought onto her. As she delves into the world of Elites — all of whom have been scarred and blessed with extraordinary powers by the Blood Fever — Adelina begins to lose herself to her power: she creates illusions so real that darkness threatens to consume her as she struggles to connect to reality, facing both the ghosts of her past and the limits of her sanity.

Things I enjoyed:

It was refreshing to read from the perspective of a villain, and I think the author did a wonderful job portraying Adelina’s constant internal conflict. It was unsettling to see how Adelina’s thought process was so dark in a frighteningly relatable way. I could relate to some of the things she felt, but it was unnerving to feel that connection, which I believe was an unlying goal of the author. I think she paints an agonizing picture of how hatred hollows out someone until it strangles the life out of relationships, hopes and love, and she does so in a way that shakes the

reader up on an intimate and personal level. I appreciated how Marie Lu portrayed love in a dynamic and turbulent light. This series depicts how love shows up when we least expect it, and will wait for us later down the road. The 3rd novel was by far my favourite in the series. I felt that it was a glorious conclusion to the protagonist’s story, and I felt that it gave the reader closure and just enough of a sense of wonder.

Things I wish the author explored more:

One of the side characters had a strong obsession with another, and I wish the author had explored this more. I felt that this part of the story was hard to connect to, and seemed slightly ambiguous as if there were a couple of loose ends.

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book reviews:

iron widow iron widow iron widow

Genre: Science Fiction

Pages: 400

Summary:

Iron Widow takes place in a sci-fi version of ancient China, in which the country relies on pilots who commandeer mecha giants to fight off Hundun invaders. These mecha giants, known as chrysalises, require pilots to control them, and girls are essentially used as sacrifices to provide the Qi, or life energy, that male pilots need to fight. Wu Zetian enlists as a concubine pilot to exact revenge on the pilot who murdered her elder sister, swearing to avenge her death. However, revenge is swift while the position she finds herself in is treacherous. She is exposed to alarming truths about the piloting system and a hidden reason why girls are sacrificed during battle. The government stands in her way, but Zetian has never been afraid to fight; after all, she has everything to gain and everything to lose.

Things I enjoyed:

First off, I love how Xiran Jay Zhao depicts Zetian’s character. She’s ferocious, ambitious and weathered the cruelty and injustice of being born of a woman in ancient China. As the author describes it, she’s a “gender-roleshattering icon”. Zetian’s character is my favourite aspect of the entire novel, and I think it’s worth the read just for her perspective. She’s a well-rounded character, and I appreciate how she wasn’t portrayed as a goody-two-shoes kind of person,

which would have been unauthentic to her rise to power as the only female empress in all of China. There are plenty of references to historical Chinese figures, as well as a deep connection to ancient Chinese culture and mythology. The romance is also well-developed and keeps the reader surprised by the constant novelties in Zetian’s relationships with those around her. I enjoyed the blurring of right and wrong in this novel, as morals are challenged and reshaped, and good and bad are less of a dichotomy and more of a spectrum of grey.

Things I wished the author explored more: Honestly, this novel was a pleasure to read and I’m not sure what I have to say about the author’s writing. I will admit that they left us on a huge cliffhanger, but it only makes me respect their writing more.

wu zetian
19 yuyu liu

THE CITY THE CITY THE CITY

“So Stephanie, how is your second week back to school?”

The stench of a flowery candle burns my nose as I breathe in and let out a deep sigh. I stop staring at the inspirational posters of puppies and kittens on the sage green walls and turn to Ms. Keller, my new therapist.

I don’t really get why I had to get a therapist. All that happened is that me and my friends got a little too drunk and I woke up in a hospital room with a few nicks and a killer headache. I figured my parents wanted me to fix my behavior, but it still feels unnecessary. I won’t say anything about it though, because I’d rather talk to some lady in an ugly room for 45 minutes every week instead of being grounded for sneaking out and getting sent to the hospital for alcohol poisoning.

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“It was okay, I guess,” I mutter. “I kinda flunked my math quiz on Wednesday, some of my friends and people at school are kinda icing me out, but it’s whatever. I talk to Audrey when we’re in class, and Mabel hangs out with me during lunch and after school.”

“Mabel keeps you company outside of class? That’s your best friend, correct?” she asks. She slows her scribbling to a stop and kind of stares at me weirdly. It looks like she’s trying to look neutral, but she also looks like she’s a little lost. Where’d this lady get her degree?

“Yeah? Me and Mabel have been hanging out during lunch since forever, so I don’t see why we wouldn’t.”

The room goes silent for a few seconds before Ms. Keller starts slowly writing something down on her notepad. “Right… and does anyone join you for lunch?” She looks up from her notepad expectantly.

“Nope. It’s just me and Mabel. Like I said, my other friends have kinda been ghosting me since the incident so it’s been just us two this week.”

“And this doesn’t make you feel upset? Angry, maybe?”

“...No? I mean, I’m kinda bummed that my friends are ghosting me, but I have Mabel, so I don’t really care.”

“Okay, so nothing has been making your return stressful? Nothing causing you lots of stress or anger?”

“Nope.” I glance down at my phone to see that Mabel hasn’t responded to my text... and that it's finally 11:30. “And our time is up. Bye!” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I get to school, it’s a bit before lunch starts, so the halls are empty except for the occasional student with a spare block or those people who are brave enough to linger at school when they skip.

When I arrive at my usual lunch spot under the stairs, I plop down on the dusty floor and pull my phone out to send Mabel another message.

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She’s been really bad at picking up my calls and texts recently. I pick semi-soggy fries out of the paper McDonalds bag in my lap as I wait for Mabel to return my text. By the time the bell rings, she hasn’t responded yet.

The mob of students being let out of class start flooding out into the hallways and down the stairs. There’s three types of people who see me in the halls. People who stare at me weirdly, people who see me and immediately avert their eyes, and people who see me and then turn to their friends to whisper. At first it did bother me a bit, but I figured that people probably just don’t wanna get involved with you when you drink a few too many drinks and end up at the hospital. As long as I have Mabel, I don’t really care about what others think of me.

“Hey, you get bored without me?”

Halfway through lunch, I turn my head to see Mabel sauntering down the stairs. Her short brown hair bounces with each step she takes.

“Of course I got bored.” I deadpan, rolling my eyes. “Why didn’t you respond to my text? I’ve been dying here without you.”

“You messaged me? I didn’t get the notification,” she says while trying to reach into my McDonalds bag.

“Hey! Those are my post-therapy fries!” I declare with fake anger, quickly snatching the bag out of her reach.

“7 years of friendship and you won’t even share your post-therapy fries?!” She pretends to be hurt before lunging for my fries again. “I need them more than you! I was the one who had to sit through morning classes.”

I jump onto my feet and away with my fries, shielding them with my arms. "Well, that’s not my problem. If you want post-therapy fries then you should-”

“Uhm.. Stephanie?”

Audrey stands at the bottom of the stairs, clutching her books to her chest as her brow

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furrowing with confusion. She moves her head to scan the area around me, looking for the source of disturbance before pursing her lips.

“Oh hey, Audrey! What’s up?” I say, straightening myself out so I don’t look completely crazy. Audrey is one of the only people other than Mabel who still talks to me normally. It’s a relief because we sit next to each other in Science, and if I didn’t have her, I would’ve had to drop the course.

“I was just going to ask you if you wanted to head to class together,” she says, looking away and down the hall. “...And I was going to ask who you were talking to.”

“Oh sure! I was just protecting my fries from Mabel.” I turn to shoot a glare at Mabel, which is returned with a wink. I grab my bag and wave bye to Mabel before joining Audrey in our trek to class.

“Do you get what’s happening in this unit?” I ask.

Her lips curl into a downturned smile when she turns to me, “Not at all.”

At least I’m not the only one confused.

“Can I come over after school and work on the homework with you? I don’t think I’ll make it to school tomorrow if I try to do the homework on my own tonight.”

Her lips purse a little before she looks away and mumbles, “Sure.” -

“He’s such a slow texter it drives me crazy,” Audrey says from her bed, exasperated as she looks at her empty notification box.

It’s been a while since we stationed ourselves in Audrey’s room. The walls are a bright yellow and she has cute matching sunflower bed sheets and a rug to match. She used to be situated on the floor with me, but she has since migrated to her bed to complain about her boy problems.

“Okay well, at least he texts you back. Every time I message Mabel she never responds.” I say, throwing a chip in my mouth. The crisp crunch of the chip fills the

26

silence of the room.

“...What do you mean?” Audrey asks. I can tell she’s trying to ask in the most neutral way possible, but I can also tell that she’s hiding something. I get the feeling that most people have been hiding things from me recently, but I just don’t bother to ask.

Shrugging, I tell her: “Every time I message Mabel she never texts me back. And it’s not like she’s mad with me either. I talk to her everyday at lunch and she’s normal. It literally makes me want to choke her out.”

“Oh. Uhm-”

“No, like seriously! Like slow texting is bad, but at least you get a response after a while.” I throw my hands into my lap, exasperated. “If you ask for advice you'll get it within a few hours. I ask for advice and I don’t get it until lunch the next day! It makes me want to throw her in front of a truck.“

“Stephanie,” Audrey’s face is dead serious when she stares at me. “Stop saying stuff like that.”

“What?”

Audrey looks away and pushes her hair out of her face. “You shouldn’t joke about stuff like that. It’s not funny, and your reputation isn’t the best right now…”

"Jeez, it’s just a joke, Audrey. What’s gotten into you?”

“What got into me?” Her head whips around to face me and she raises her voice, her tone dripping with disgust. “I should be asking you that! You’ve been acting like nothing happened and I’m sick and tired of pretending that nothing happened.”

“I knew you were hiding something! What the hell are you even talking about?!”

"The reason everybody is avoiding you; the reason why nobody wants to talk to you anymore,” she stands up from her position on the floor with her chest heaving and her face warped with anger, “is because you killed Mabel!”

A thick silence suffocates the room.

27

“Audrey, I literally just had lunch with Mabel today. You saw her yourself.” I say slowly. “How did I kill someone I saw this afternoon?”

“No I didn’t! You weren’t sitting with anyone today when I came by. You’ve been hallucinating her and talking to thin air this whole time!”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not! She really is dead! She’s been rotting in her grave for 2 months already! Nobody brings it up because we were told not to, and because we don’t want to end up like Mabel!”

I let out a laugh, but it doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t feel right.

I don’t feel right.

I shoot up from my position, and I think the chips that were in my lap fall to the floor and spill everywhere, but I’m not sure because my hand is already on the knob of Audrey’s door and it’s swinging open violently, slamming against the door stopper protecting her sickening yellow walls.

I burst out of Audrey’s room and grab the railing to the stairs as I fly down them, my hands staggering down the wood as my clammy hands catch and squeak on the lacquered surface of the wood.

I hear Audrey stumbling out of her room and running down the stairs behind me and I think she asks me where I’m going, but she sounds so distant compared to the thunderous beating of my heart.

By the time I make it out the door of her house, I feel my lips responding to Audrey, but my mind is figuring out the quickest route to Mabel’s house:

Turn left. Walk 3 blocks down the street. Turn right onto Shuswap Lane. One more right at Shutterbug Avenue. House 8292.

A flashes of distant memories claw their way to the surface of my mind as I bolt down the empty, dark street.

What.
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Screaming. Cursing that is spat out so violently that it scratches at your throat.

What are these memories? Where did they come from? Never mind. It doesn’t matter.

My hands tremble as I shove my hand into the front pocket of my hoodie, trying to grab my phone.

When I reach the front of Mabel’s house, I frantically pound at her front door. The hinges creak under the assault of my fist to her door. My phone continues to ring as I continue to try and call her, but she doesn’t answer.

“Mabel! MABEL! OPEN THE DOOR!” I yell.

The door swings open and I can feel the rising hope in my chest get stomped into the pavement when it’s just Mabel’s mother behind the door.

“Stephanie? What’s going on?”

“I need to see Mabel, can I just-”

I’m sorry, I.. I think she’s asleep right now. You can talk to her tomorrow.”

“It’ll be really quick, I swear! I just need to see her for a second.”

“Stephanie, it’s very late. I think you should be getting back home. I’ll call your mo-”

I don’t give her a chance to finish her sentence as I squeeze through the space between Mabel’s mother and the door, pushing her out of the way and stumbling to the staircase.

My feet stomp and patter loudly against the carpeted stairs, but I can barely hear them. Suddenly, my knees buckle as my head throbs with a rush of unfamiliar memories.

A bottle shatters onto the gravel next to a messily paved road, its broken shards flying up and nicking my shins.

29

Steadying myself, I push myself up and fly up the rest of the stairs running to Mabel’s The door handle feels frigid against my burning hands.

“Mabel?!”

I fling the door open to see Mabel standing, looking out of her window with her back facing me.

“Mabel!” I heave and grab the doorframe, leaning my weight against it. “Mabel, thank god. You’re okay. You’re not fake! You’re right here! You’re right.. h..ere..”

Mabel continues to stand, unmoving in front of her window. My throat aches from my heavy breathing and my chest feels like it’s going to explode, but she continues to stand there. Silent.

“Mabel…? What’s wrong? Why won’t you say anything?”

“Stephanie.”

“Mabel?”

“Do you remember what happened that night?”

“Kind of? Not really? Mabel, why won’t you turn aro-”

“How could you forget?”

“What? I- I was drunk..! What.. what are you saying?”

“Don’t you remember our argument?”

A hand comes in contact with my cheek. My face stings as the anger boiling in my stomach erupts.

“Remember how you threw that bottle of beer onto the road?”

30

I can feel how deep my fingers grip into her shoulders but I don’t care. I hope my fingernails break the skin under them. Her hair is dishevelled and stuck to some parts of her forehead.

“Mabel, stop it-”

She trips, or maybe I pushed her with a yell.

“Remember how the truck swerved to avoid the glass?”

Headlights blind me as I scramble to grab her hand. I miss her by a millimeter.

“I can’t believe the driver didn’t see us.”

A truck honks.

She turns around.

The resounding sound of bones cracking follows.

Her short brown hair is encrusted to what’s left of her face by blood and grime. Half of her face is mutilated beyond recognition and the other half is bloody and bruised. The entirety of her torso is mangled, with the skin of her abdomen completely torn off. One of her intestines hangs out of her and falls against her bloody leg. The flesh is torn off of one of her calves, leaving only the bone to keep her upright. Her left arm is twisted grotesquely and her elbow bends in the wrong direction. Her right shoulder is popped out of its socket, and only the remaining top half of her right arm hangs limply by her side. I can see bits of white where the flesh was ripped off and ground into the pavement, leaving the bone exposed.

“I can’t believe you killed me.”

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burnett club feature:

Use Your Voice

Use Your Voice is a social justice-oriented club that aims to foster a safe, inclusive, and welcoming environment in our school and the local community. Our club spotlights social issues through a variety of educational projects and events to encourage meaningful dialogue around social justice topics. Some of our past initiatives have included educational posters and announcements on cultural holidays, an online film festival and luncheon, an emergency supplies drive for earthquake relief, student-made hallway murals, and collaborative fundraisers to raise money for community organizations. Finally, we want to remind everyone that your voice matters - don't be afraid to use it!

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the window

Our world shatters

When a window breaks

The glass shards impale those who are close to it

Those who try to put it back together

Those who cannot afford to move away

Those who lack protection

Our hearts shatter

When we see our friends cry in pain

Bleed and suffer from the injuries

And when we realize we can’t heal everyone’s wounds

How many more friends do we have to lose

For people to take action when they hear the news

Our nightmares ask “what if my window breaks next?”

But our hopes will never be shattered

As long as we have each other

We know that, together, we can repair the damage

This is a poem that portrays the emotions that our club members feel when navigating social justice issues. Though it can be a heart-shattering and arduous journey to fight for equity, it also brings people and communities together.

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canned focanned fo canned food drive od drive od drive canned focanned fo canned food drive od drive od drive

" we have mirrorballs... they are broken in a million times, and
catch you in our next issue JN BURNETT'S LITERARY MAGAZINE CLUB

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