Existence A Manuscript by Emily Connelly
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Table of Contents Writer’s Statement Dramatic Writing1.) Unspoken Secrets Fiction1.) Sunken (an excerpt) 2.) Plain Jane (an excerpt) 3.) The Heart (an excerpt) Poetry1.) Creepy Science Sub 2.) Moonlight Blues 3.) Sonnet for Dog Love Motel 4.) Breaking Free 5.) Praying for the Wait to End 6.) Schadenfreude 7.) The Death House 8.) The Forbidden Fruit 9.) Scuffed Air Force, Blue Hoody Wearin’, Kelly Clarkson Jammin, Southside Bike Trail Hangin’ Hopefuls 10.) Prelude to Road Kill Nonfiction1.) Steelers Stars 2.) The Importance of Junior Year 3.) Being 4.) Political Science 5.) Southside 6.) Communications 7.) Racism in Heart of Darkness 8.) The Cycle of American Racism
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Writer’s Statement Over the duration of the past few years, I have witnessed a great change in my writing. I have gone from believing that only poems that rhymed could be considered poems to mastering many different forms such as the villanelle and sestina. I have gone from giving up because a six-page short story was too long to complete to writing an entire novella. When I first came to CAPA, I thought I’d never master the art. I haven’t, yet, but I’ve sure gotten a lot closer. Writing my novella was one of the greatest achievements I’ve had in my life. I chose a subject that interested me, and I enjoyed almost every moment of writing, from beginning to end. This, like many other writing projects I’ve embarked on, taught me a lot about myself. It taught me to have confidence in myself, to keep working no matter how hard things get, because most things pay off in the end. This is another reason I’ve continued this art. When I started writing, I had my mind made up that I wanted a career in the writing field. Having my passion taught to me was something I thought I’d never be able to express my gratitude for. I had dreams of being the author sitting at a table in the bookstore signing her newly released novel. But having my passion taught to me in such an intense course at CAPA also taught me that it is something that I cannot endure on a full schedule for a lifetime. However, I know now that when I’m down or in a rough spot in life or just need to let some feelings out, writing will always be there.
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Unspoken Secrets CELINA Michael! (MICHAEL whips around, surprised to see CELINA.) MICHAEL Celina. I didn’t think you’d come. CELINA Who else is gonna stop you from doing this stupid race? MICHAEL It’s not stupid. I have to do this. You know that. CELINA You don’t have to do anything. Just cause some stupid jocks dared you to race them doesn’t mean you have to. Just ignore them. MICHAEL It’s not that easy. If I bail, they’ll never let me live it down. CELINA Who cares? Are you willing to risk your life for that? MICHAEL I’m not risking my life. It’s not that big of a deal. It’s not even that dangerous. You’re blowing things way out of proportion, as usual. CELINA Are you serious? You don’t think street racing is dangerous? MICHAEL Listen Celina. Nothing’s going to happen. CELINA You don’t. You think you’re so god damn invincible. Well you’re not! MICHAEL Why can’t you just support me? Is it that hard? CELINA I’m sorry but I cannot support you going out and getting yourself killed. -4-
MICHAEL Unspoken Secrets I’m not! CELINA Micha— MICHAEL You know what Celina? This conversation is pointless. I’m done talking to you if you’re just going to bitch at me. (Michael pushes past Celina looking very aggravated. He only gets a few feet past her before she stops him.) CELINA You walk away right now, you’re walking straight out of this relationship. (Michael stops, still facing away from Celina. He turns around to face Celina.) MICHAEL If you’re willing to throw away two and a half years over this then maybe I don’t mean as much to you as I thought I did. You wanna throw away TWO and a half years? Fine with me then. CELINA Don’t be like this. You know I care about you. That’s why I don’t want you to do this. (Celina steps closer to Michael. She takes his hands in hers.) Please don’t do this. MICHAEL I have to do this. For me. Celina, from the day we met I’ve put you before my friends. And I’ve lost them all because of it. Not that I don’t want to put you first, I just need to be one of the guys again. That’ll never happen if I don’t do this. Please just let me do this one thing for me. CELINA Can’t you just send them a nice fruit basket or something? MICHAEL Hmph. I wish… (Beat.)
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CELINA Unspoken Secrets Look I know you just want them to like you, but if this is what you have to do for their attention then they’re not worth it. MICHAEL Easily said coming from the girl with all the friends she could ask for… CELINA You’re punishing me now because I have a lot of friends? MICHAEL No. I’m just saying it’s hard for you to understand what I’m going through. CELINA What, you think life’s been a walk in the park for me? You’re the only one who’s had it hard since we started dating? None of my friends like you. Do you know the shit I’ve been through with them because of us? Everybody hates us together. You think that’s been easy for me? MICHAEL Well I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was such an inconvenience. CELINA All I’m saying is you aren’t the only one who has had to deal with drama from their friends. And do you see me running out doing something stupid like this because of that? MICHAEL No. CELINA Exactly. So why do you have to? MICHAEL Why can’t you just support me? CELINA I told you! I can’t support this. MICHAEL Not just this, Celina. Everything. You don’t agree with anything I want to do. CELINA Yea? Like what?
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MICHAEL Unspoken Secrets I wanted to go out for the swim team; you said I didn’t need to waste my time dancing around a swimming pool half naked with a bunch of guys. CELINA Well it’s true. That’s just gross. MICHAEL That’s not the point. Why couldn’t I do it? CELINA Because… Well because— MICHAEL Because you didn’t want me to? Exactly my point. I wanted to study abroad last semester in China. I even got a scholarship. You wanna know why I didn’t go? (CELINA opens her mouth to answer, but MICHAEL starts speaking again before she has a chance to.) Because you didn’t want me to. CELINA Well that’s different. I would have missed you too much if you left me for a whole semester. MICHAEL Well I would have missed you too, but I wanted to experience that. And I could have. And they would have paid for almost half of it. But you talked me out of it. CELINA Yea but— MICHAEL No! But nothing. And now you want to talk me out of this. But I’m not letting you. I need to do this for me. My life has been so god damn miserable lately. Don’t get me wrong. I do love you, but I need friends. I need to hang out with more than you and your friends. CELINA But why do you have to race to get some friends? Shouldn’t they want to be friends with you for who you are, not who they want you to be? MICHAEL
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Unspoken Secrets Celina this is who I am. This is who I’ve always been. You’ve changed me. I used to be adventurous and fun and outgoing. But look at me now. I’m like an old man. I just sit around and cater to you all day. CELINA I thought you liked doing all that. MICHAEL What? No. I’m not your little bitch. I’m done being whipped by you. I’m not you’re trophy boyfriend that you can just show off to all your friends. That’s not why I’m here. CELINA Well I’m sorry. I didn’t know you felt this way. (Celina takes a deep breath.) But why do you have to do this? MICHAEL (Suddenly very furious.) Look. I just have to. And I’m going to. I don’t care what you say. I need to do this for me. I hope you’ll stick around to watch, but that’s the only reason you have to stay. You’re not talking me out of this. (MICHAEL blows past CELINA again. This time she runs after him. She grabs his shoulder and turns him around. He gives her an angry stare and forces his way past her.) CELINA Michael, if you can’t make this decision on your own, then I’m going to have to make it for you. I’m calling the cops. (Celina pulls out her phone and begins to walk the other direction, away from Michael. Michael turns around and runs after her. He grabs her arm tightly and furiously turns her around.) You take your hands off me right now. MICHAEL Hang up the phone. CELINA No. MICHAEL
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(Very forcefully.) Celina put the phone away. Unspoken Secrets (CELINA snaps the phone shut furiously.) Ugh I’m done with this. (CELINA continues walking, attempting to exit. She slows down and eventually comes to a stop. She turns around exhausted and not wanting to continue on with the conversation.) Michael. Please. Please don’t do this. MICHAEL Look I do love you. I always have. But I just can’t do it anymore. I thinkCELINA No. Wait. I have to tell you something. MICHAEL What? CELINA Well you see… there’s something I’ve been wanting- needing to tell you. MICHAEL What? What do you mean? (CELINA takes a deep breath.) CELINA Michael. I… It just… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. MICHAEL Tell me what? Spit it out Celina? (CELINA begins crying softly.) I’m sorry. You just have me really worried now. What’s going on? CELINA You have to promise you won’t be mad. MICHAEL
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I can’t promise I won’t be mad if you won’t tell me what it is. Unspoken Secrets CELINA (Taking a deep breath.) Okay. Michael I’m… I’m pregnant. MICHAEL What? You’re what? CELINA Pregnant. MICHAEL Since when? When did you find out? CELINA About a month and a half ago. (MICHAEL is silent, with a look of shock on his face. Celina waits a few moments then…) Michael? (CELINA moves closer to his and takes his hand.) Michael are you ok? MICHAEL No. No I’m not. How did this happen? CELINA Well do you really want me to explain it? MICHAEL I know how it happened. But how’d it happen? CELINA I don’t know. (Beat) MICHAEL (Affectionately) Celina, are you okay with all of this? CELINA
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(Bitterly.) No I’m not okay with being pregnant. I’m not okay with being 17 and about to have child. How could I ever be okay with that? Unspoken Secrets MICHAEL God there’s no point in talking to you. You’re so bitter about everything. CELINA I’m sorry. But Michael, really, what would you do in my situation? MICHAEL In your situation? What would you do in my situation? I just found out I’m about to have a baby with a girl that I don’t even really want to be with. CELINA (Hurt and shocked.) You don’t want to be with me? MICHAEL I used to, but not anymore. Face it, Celina. We’re just not meant for each other. CELINA You really think so? MICHAEL Yea. CELINA (Celina looks very hurt.) But Michael, I’m pregnant. MICHAEL I can’t deal with this right now. I gotta go. (MICHAEL begins to walk away the opposite direction CELINA Where are you going? MICHAEL To race? CELINA No you are not Michael. MICHAEL
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Oh yea? Watch me. Unspoken Secrets (MICHAEL exits.) CELINA No. Michael, please! (She softens her voice.) I need you now. Please. (BLACKOUT)
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Sunken (Excerpt)
It was December 6th, and the weather in Oahu was surprisingly nice. Harry, the boys, and their girlfriends had all filtered into one of the beach bars. Harry was still a little high off of his amazing honeymoon. He hadn’t been able to see too much of Cyndi since then, so he was in pure bliss to be spending the night with her. They had all planned to go out for a drink or two, no drinking for Cyndi though of course, and then grab a bite to eat. However, the night turned into the two newlyweds branching off on their own for a nice walk on the beach. Harry lost track of time walking with her, and when he looked down at his watch, he realized that they both were going to be late for curfew in just twelve minutes. They ran back to his car and sped back to their bunks to make it just it time. Through all the rushing and stress, it was still one of the best nights of Harry’s life. It was beginning to seem like every time he was with her, it was the new best night of his
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life. Harry didn’t sleep with ease that night. Every time he resituated himself and was just about to fall asleep, Cyndi’s face would pop up in his head and that was it. He finally fell asleep around three in the morning. He woke up, eyes heavy, to the siren sounding alarm of their bunk at 6:15. He dragged himself out of bed reluctantly to get ready for the daily morning drills. They started with a warm up every day, to get their blood flowing, but especially today, Harry wasn’t very thrilled about doing jumping jacks for a half an hour after just three hours of sleep. After jumping jacks came push-ups and sit-ups for another half an hour. Somehow, in being here and doing this every morning for about eight months now, Harry had learned how to catch a little shuteye during these drills. His internal alarm seemed to go off just in time to wake up and get back to work before one of the Commanding Officers walked past. Harry’s internal alarm went off and he jolted up back into his sit-ups automatically. He went at them furiously for a minute or two, but looked around to find that there were no officers in sight. This doesn’t sound like something that would be so distressing or set you back, but for Harry, this was uncanny. He sat still for a second, puzzled. Soon he shrugged it off and went back to doing sit-ups. Not two minutes later, a pack of zeros cruised low over his head. He and his entire ship crew jumped up. Usually the Air Force did not practice this early, or on Sundays at all. They all stood staring for a minute or so before, from their left came a loud explosion. The men looked over to see one of the airfields up in flames. A shot of adrenaline rushed through Harry’s veins. There was a second explosion. Then a third. The bombs were falling like rain now. Harry and the squadron still stood there dormant. Harry was motionless. He dug deep and tried to process some thoughts, but he was blank. About three minutes after the first bomb hit, the men started running around frantically. It was the frantic running that got you nowhere. At one point, Harry looked up to see the guy from the bunk next to him running around the mast in circles. The Arizona was pure chaos. He lifted his head and took a long look at the harbor. He was in disbelief. The West Virginia was up in flames, the Oklahoma, the California. He had to turn away. Bombs fell for about the next five minutes, hitting almost every battleship on battleship row. Both airfields that could be seen from the harbor were up in flames. Harry looked up and watched as planes and more planes, filled with Japanese pilots who had nothing else in mind but to kill as many Americans as they could, flew so close above that he could see the giant grins on their faces. They were in pure bliss. There were dozens of them. Not only had it been unexpected because they had just agreed on a peace treaty with Japan, but nobody thought it was even possible for the Japanese to be successful in an air raid. All the drills that were forced on him completely went out of his head. He looked around to see if anybody was actually doing anything that at least looked semi organized. There was nobody. Even the officers were disoriented. He was watching them for a moment, when they started to evacuate the battleship. They attempted to at least, because as soon as they gave the order to abandon ship, the floor rumbled under his feet and a blast of heat and wind shot him backwards a few feet and onto his back. The Arizona had officially been hit. He crawled onto his elbows and reached up to feel a fat gash in his head. He pulled his hand down to find it covered in blood, but all his pain and shock went away we he caught site, out of the corner of his eye, of the stern of his ship. The entire
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back half was up in flames. Blood curdling screams came from below deck. At that point, Harry had to stop and catch his breath. He knew that on this ship, men that he had spent the last eight months with, men that he probably had seen the night before, men that he had been bunk partners with, they were dead. At that moment a fury built up in him. It was a rage like no other and it made him want shack up with the Browning 50-caliber anti-aircraft machine gun holding on to the railing and just kill as many as those bastard Japs as he could. This anger burned in him, knotted at his soul and forced his face red. Then he threw up. For minutes and minutes on end, he vomited until he knew there was nothing else left in him. Another torpedo sunk into the side of the ship and Harry went flying again. The boat was almost separated in two, with a giant, gaping hole in the middle where it was just hit. Both sides shifted a little and Harry grabbed onto the side railings for support. In the water, there were hundreds and hundreds of men, either trying to swim away or already dead. Bullets started flying down, piercing the air all around Harry. For a second, he thought about jumping off the side like the other men. But like he’d always said and always wanted, he wanted to fight for his country. He wanted to make a difference. He had to help. So he pushed himself off the railing and started towards the deck steps. He knew there were hundreds of men stuck below decks, so he was going to join the effort to get them out. Just in running across the deck to the steps, Harry stepped over at least eight dead men. Dead soldiers. Dead fathers, brothers, husbands. Dead friends. He ran with his head down, being sure not to trip, but nearly fell when he ran into his Captain, who was running the other way. The two made eye contact. It was the most fear he had ever seen in a man’s eyes. It sent chills up and down his spine and through his entire body. He had no idea what else to do, so he stopped and saluted him. “Boy, don’t got time for all that right now. Get to work.” That was the first time the Captain had ever directly given him an order. “Y-yes sir!” Harry said back, apprehensively. For the next half an hour or so, Harry tugged at doors and smashed in deck floors with any given blunt object and with about eighty or so other people helping, only managed to pull six men out from below decks safely. Most of the men tagged it as a lost hope and went running for the hills when the Arizona was hit with its third torpedo. Now they were in danger of going down. Harry didn’t care though. He kept working his little heart out, trying to do everything he could to be helpful. He hammered away at the deck to try to get out the men who were near drowning right underneath him, but each time he finally got to them, it always seemed to be just a bit too late. He threw down his pole, frustrated, and just then, another pack of zeros flew close above them. They circled and flew right back, slinging bullets through the air, spraying the ship with a layer of ammunition. Harry ducked and waited for the planes to pass. When it looked like they had all gone, he stood up. He was greeted with two shots in the torso. One in the upper back. One in the abdomen. He fell to the ground in pain. He called for help again and again and again, but things were so chaotic, that a man lying on the ground with a bullet wound wasn’t really the biggest of issues. He only had to lie there about five minutes before he realized that he had to act on his own. He dragged himself up to his knees and an elbow. Harry struggled for a few minutes to get on his feet, but alas, he finally did. However, he made it about ten steps before he doubled over, puked, and then collapsed.
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He reached behind to his back and could pretty much stick his hand in the lower wound. At that point, he had decided to give up and die with his men, but right then, Cyndi’s face popped in his head and that was all he needed. Harry made it to the side of the ship and jumped into the water below, with about half the other men from the Arizona. He swam, one armed and quite difficultly back to shore, dodging bullets and debris the entire time. He made it to shore just about in time for the first wave to be over. He was carried on a stretcher to the beat up military hospital just down the street. At the door, there was a large group of men, some women, but mostly men, basically piled at the door. Each of them had an N marked on their head that Harry would later overhear somebody call the “no hopes”. The no hopes either had too major of an injury that the hospital just couldn’t handle at that point, or there was little hope that, had they given them treatment, they would have even lived, and so on and so forth. Harry was treated at the hospital, after it was bombed another two times during the second wave of attacks on Pearl Harbor. By midday, the attacks were over and Harry and everybody else in that tiny little island paradise could finally take a breath. But with each breath, they were breathing in the 2,388 dead souls and breathing for the 1,178 more that were wounded.
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Plain Jane (Excerpt)
One night, her friend Cheryl asked her to go to Margaritaville with her. Jane, tired from working so much, thought it might be good to get out for a night. Cheryl, however, only had one thing in mind. She had a friend that she knew Jane would like. But she knew if she told Jane that, she wouldn’t come, so she kept it quiet. When they got to the bar, Cheryl’s friend wasn’t there yet. She and Jane had a few drinks. Cheryl started pressing Jane about dating, and Jane knew what she was up to. But right as she was getting up to leave, Cheryl’s friend came in. Jane’s draw nearly dropped to the floor. Her name was Sadie. Every step that Sadie took forward, Jane began to notice how beautiful she was.
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She had a dark complexion—just the way Jane liked it. And her eyes were the most beautiful hazel that she’d ever seen. Her hair was a dark brown and it flowed down over her shoulders to her breasts. Her breasts were another story—possibly the most noticeable thing about her. She smiled. Jane froze for a second. She would remember that smile for the rest of her life. It was so warm and welcoming. It lit up the whole room. “Jane. This is Sadie. Sadie, Jane,” Cheryl said, introducing the two. Jane began to reach her hand out, but Sadie came in for a hug. Jane hesitated for a second and lifted her hands up—one to Sadie’s shoulder blades, one to the small of her back. Her curves were incredible. She held Sadie tight and could feel her breasts against hers. She took a deep breath, snapped out of her daze, and let go. “It’s so nice to meet you,” Sadie said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” “Oh yeah? That’s funny. Because Cheryl seemed to have forgotten to mention you,” Jane said as she shot Cheryl a look. She laughed, making it clear to Sadie that she was joking, even though she wasn’t. Sadie laughed. That laugh… The three of them talked for a while. It was a great time. They drank and laughed. Jane couldn’t take her eyes off of Sadie. Cheryl nudged her as if to say, “I told you so.” Jane nodded in agreement. For once, one of Cheryl’s blind date plans may have worked. Sadie was the most beautiful thing Jane had ever seen. “Well. It looks like you two should get along together fine. I better be going. I have to pick up Mark from the babysitter’s,” Cheryl said. “Aw, are you sure? We’d love for you to stay,” Sadie said. “Yeah. I’m already late. You two have a good time though alright?” She hugged them both, and when she hugged Jane, Jane whispered a thank you in her ear and gave her a squeeze. After Cheryl had left, Jane and Sadie stayed at the bar and mingled for a while. They were getting along great, even better than Jane had hoped for. But she wasn’t sure if Sadie was picking up on her subtle flirting. Jane decided to turn it up a notch. “Do you want to go for a walk?” Jane asked. “Sure. I’d love to.” Jane pulled out Sadie’s chair for her, and when Sadie got up, Jane put her hand on the small of her back and walked with her out of the bar. They began walking down Carson Avenue. It was a very lively place on the weekends. There were bars on every block. It was a great place for young people. “So where are we going?” Sadie asked. “A little spot of mine,” Jane said with a smile. “Oh yeah? Will I like it?” “Will you like it? Of course. It’s my spot,” Jane replied. Jane turned the two off of Carson and started walking towards the river. It was only a block or two away. “We’re going down here?” Sadie asked. “Yeah. Just wait. You’ll see.” They continued walking down until they got to a bike trail right alongside the river. “I never even knew this was here,” Sadie said. Jane smiled. “I can show you a lot of things you never knew.” Sadie had to have caught that one, Jane thought. She did, because right when she said that, Sadie moved over a little closer and latched arms with Jane. Jane stood tall and proud at that moment. They continued walking for about another fifteen minutes. Finally they got to where Jane
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had been leading them. They scooted around a fence and Jane helped Sadie down the little hill and through a few bushes. When Sadie got to the other side of the bushes, she looked up and her eyes widened. She stepped out from the bush slowly. They were on a huge rock that hung out over the river a bit. She looked upstream and all she could see was the river stretching out under all the bridges. She looked downstream and she saw beautiful downtown Pittsburgh in the horizon. The lights from town and from Station Square glimmered off the water. It was purely incredible. “Wow. So this is your spot?” she asked. “Yep.” Jane looked out over the water. It had been a while since she had been there. She had taken Mary there once, but had only come back once since then. Jane was thankful for how especially beautiful everything looked that night. The river was clear and luscious and flowing so nicely. The lights from the city and from Southside and Station Square all collided together in their reflection on the water to form one huge, stunning sparkle shining off the river. The leaves were just beginning to change colors, so the riverbanks were colorful and vibrant. And to top all that off, the air was crisp and cool, and it left a clean, lively feeling in her lungs every time she took a breath. She looked over at Sadie. “You like it?” “I love it! This is gorgeous. I wouldn’t have thought that this would have been your spot,” Sadie said. “Why not?” “I don’t know. I just hadn’t really figured you for the nature loving, romantic type? I don’t know.” “Well, you’re wrong on both of those,” Jane replied, grinning at Sadie. “I see that.” “Come on. Come sit down. Take your shoes off. Your feet feel so free when they’re hanging out over the river,” Jane said. Sadie laughed. They sat down together on the edge of the wall, their feet, in fact, hanging out over the river. Sadie had a smile plastered on her face, and Jane just kept thinking to herself how grateful she was for how wonderful the night had been going. They sat and talked for a while. They only talked about light-hearted things though. That’s one of the things that Jane grew to love about Sadie: she wasn’t one of the girls who always wanted to have heavy, deep conversations. She was perfectly content sitting and having a conversation in which the two told each other every detail they could ever remember from their childhood vacations. It was discussions like that that filled up the next three hours. Jane looked down at her watch to see that it was two-thirty in the morning. “Oh wow. Two-thirty! We’d better be getting home,” Jane said. “Two-thirty? Really? Yeah. We’d better get going.” “How did you get down here?” Jane asked. “Oh I walked,” Sadie replied. “What about you?” “Same. Let me walk you home, okay?” Jane said. In truth, Cheryl had driven her to the bar. She was planning on taking a cab or calling for a ride, but she preferred things this way: with Sadie. “Oh no, you don’t need to. Really. I just live right up the street. On Mission,” Sadie said. “Oh really? Well that’s perfect. Right on my way home.” “Why? Where do you live?”
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“Right up the way from there. That’s the way I like to take home anyways,” Jane said. Jane and Sadie walked together in the night to Sadie’s house. When they got to her door, Sadie stopped. “Thank you so much for this night. And your spot. And walking me home. It was all wonderful,” Sadie said. “Oh it was my pleasure. I haven’t had this good of a time with somebody in a long time. Thank you.” Jane paused for a second. She had so much more to say, but she didn’t know how to say it. She waited too long. “Ok. Well, uh, thanks a lot. I hope to see you again some time. Maybe I’ll run into you down there,” Sadie said. Jane didn’t know what to do. She’d blown her chance. “Yeah. I hope so.” It was pathetic. “Well, goodnight,” Sadie said as she reached over and gave Jane another hug. That was it! Sadie began to walk up the steps. “Wait!” Jane called out. Sadie turned around. Jane walked up the few steps to her. “I’m sorry if this is a bit forward, but I just can’t take the chance of not seeing you again.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Would you like to go out on a date with me?” Sadie smiled. Her smile seemed to stretch out longer than Jane had seen it do all night. “I’d love that.” Jane’s smile basically went from ear to ear after that. “Really?” “Yeah. Here. Let me—,” Sadie reached into her purse and grabbed out a little piece of paper and a pen. She wrote down her number and handed it off to Jane. “Night.” She walked in the door and shot one last smile at Jane before closing it. Jane turned around and walked back exactly the way she had come. That was never the way she took home. She had just wanted to spend more time with Sadie. She walked back down through Southside and up Sycamore Avenue, across Grandview, down Maple Terrace and home. It was a long walk. She didn’t get home until after fourthirty in the morning. She was exhausted. She stuck her hands in her pockets and fell back on her bed. She pulled a small white piece of paper out and saw Sadie’s number, and suddenly, the walk was worth it.
Chapter 4 It was the night of their first date. Jane was more nervous than she had ever been about a girl. She had always been good with women, but Sadie made her question her skill. It took her a long time to choose her outfit. She didn’t know which style she wanted to show off that night. Should she wear more comfortable, less girly clothes, to make it seem like she could be a strong, firm partner in the relationship? Or should she wear something really stylish to show off her good fashion sense? She decided to mix it. She wore a pink spaghetti strap tank top with a pink silk-hooded sweatshirt over top, her nicest pair of jeans, and some black flip-flops. She was comfortable, but she knew she looked good. Jane picked up the phone and carefully punched in the seven digits for Sadie’s phone number. It rang a few times. Jane’s mind started drifting until Sadie picked up.
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“Hello?” she answered. “Hey it’s Jane.” “Hey! How are you?” “Good. Are you still good for six o’clock?” “Absolutely.” “Great. I’ll see you then,” Jane replied. They hung up the phone. Jane took a second to catch her breath. She couldn’t believe how on edge she was about the whole situation. She went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. After that she put her make up and jewelry on. She grabbed her bag and was ready to go. She left a bit early to give herself some extra time to walk over. It took her about an hour and a half and when she got there she was sweating a little. She sat down on a set of stairs to catch her breath and let herself cool down. She composed herself, stood up and made sure she still looked okay, ran her fingers through her hair, and started walking again. When she got to Sadie’s house, she took a deep breath again and knocked very firmly. It took a minute or so for Sadie to come to the door. Jane figured she was finishing up getting ready. Sadie finally came to the door. Jane smiled. “You look great,” Jane said. She was wearing a black and white striped shirt that accented her curves incredibly. She had on a pair of dark blue jeans and some flip-flops as well. She turned around to close the door and Jane noticed how good her jeans made her butt look. She loved that Sadie had some meat on her bones. She was thin, but Jane couldn’t see any ribs. That was always her standard. Thin, but enough meat to cover up the ribs. Jane grabbed Sadie’s hand to help her down the steps. They walked and talked for a while. They both had had time to think about each other, to get nervous and over analyze things, and that made things a little awkward at first. But the ice was broken not too long after. “What’s in the bag?” Sadie asked. “You’ll see,” Jane replied. “Oh that’s right. You’re a big surprise person,” Sadie said and laughed. They continued walking until they got to Carson Avenue, where they turned left and walked to a restaurant called Mallorca. It was a Spanish restaurant. “Spanish? I love Spanish. It’s my favorite type of food,” Sadie said excitedly. “I know.” “You know? How? Did I say something the other night?” Sadie asked. “Nope,” Jane replied. “Well how do you know, then?” “I have my ways,” Jane said. Sadie smiled and Jane knew that she was beginning to get to Sadie. Sadie reached over and grabbed Jane’s hand. Their grip was rather loose, but Jane wriggled her fingers around to tighten her hold on Sadie’s hand. When they got to the hostess’s booth, the man and woman standing there gave Jane and Sadie a disgusted look. Jane could tell that that made Sadie uncomfortable, so she tried talking to her to take her mind off of it. It worked. But the hostess didn’t say a word to them the entire time. She just walked them to a table and marched away. The food was delicious. They ate quickly though. Something about the mood had been off since the altercation with the hosts. Jane knew that things weren’t going to get
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any better until they were well out of the restaurant. She said no to dessert and took Sadie’s hand and left the restaurant. As soon as they got outside, the mood lightened up. It was a beautiful night and there was something about the atmosphere that just made Sadie happier. She was very unpredictable. They started walking back down Carson. “Are we going to “the spot”?” Sadie asked laughing. “You’ll see.” They were going to the spot, but Jane had a surprise. When they got to the wall, Jane told Sadie to turn around. She began unloading the bag. In it was two blankets—one for laying on and one for keeping warm, two plates, some pumpkin pie (also one of Sadie’s favorites), two forks, a candle, and a lighter. She cut up the pie and put in on the plates, lit the candle, and told Sadie to turn around. Sadie’s face at that moment was better than any thanks Jane would get for that. “You did all this?” Sadie asked, almost in shock. “Of course.” “But how? For me?” “Well, yeah. Who else would this be for?” Jane asked. “I don’t know. I just—. Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me before,” Sadie said. “Well then you’ve never been with anybody who’s deserved you. Because this is something you should have every night,” Jane said. Sadie reached over and gave Jane a hug. Her body was so warm and Jane treasured the sincerity in her embrace. They lay on the blanket together and looked up at the stars. Sadie nestled herself into Jane’s shoulder. The summer air had gotten a little chilly in the night, and Jane was doing her best to keep Sadie warm. She held Sadie in both arms, the blanket wrapped around them. They cuddled for a while, talking about all the things that came to their minds. “I really had a great time tonight,” Sadie said. “You’re not like all the other people I’ve dated.” “Oh yeah? How so?” Jane asked. “The way you treat me. It actually seems like you care. Like I don’t have to try and try to be someone I’m not just to impress you. You like me the way I am.” “Of course I do. You’re incredible,” Jane replied. They were silent for a moment, just staring at each other. Sadie perked her neck up and Jane moved in to her lips. It was their first kiss. Jane stopped. She didn’t want to cross any lines. But as soon as she pulled away, Sadie reached up and began kissing her again. Jane rolled over so that she was more on top of Sadie. It was the most passionate kiss that Jane had ever experienced. She lifted her hand to Sadie’s face and cupped her cheek in her hand. For just a few moments, everything was okay. The kiss lasted for a few minutes. There was no lust behind it, only romance. When they stopped kissing, Jane held Sadie in her arms again. They didn’t speak for a while. But it was the kind of silence that a person appreciated; where it’s not that you can’t find anything to say, but where you just don’t want to talk for minute because there are other things that are more important in that moment. They stayed pretty quiet the rest of the night. Maybe it was that they were both a little more love-struck than either of them could have predicted. Jane walked Sadie home and for once in her life, the hour and a half walk home went by like the snap of a finger.
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She was too caught up in her thoughts and fantasies to notice anything else. It was the same story when she tried to sleep that night. And when she tried to work the next day. And when she went out with her friends the next night. Jane was hypnotized. But it wasn’t just Jane who had this problem. For the next few days, Sadie spent a lot of time by the phone, waiting for Jane to call. She had contemplating doing the calling herself, but it was Cheryl she got the number from, not Jane, so she thought it might seem a bit desperate. She wasn’t sure whether Jane forgot about her or she was trying to make it seem like she, too, wasn’t desperate, because it took almost a week for her to call again. This infuriated Sadie. She hated being kept waiting. But as soon as she heard Jane’s voice on the other line, all the anger flooded out of her body and she was filled with joy again. This was just the beginning.
The Heart
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Sharp branches scraped against my raw face as I pushed my way through a thick layer of bushes. My hands were frozen solid even underneath my gloves. It was pure cowhide and they still didn’t conserve enough heat to keep my fingers warm. I found myself a nice spot to stand where I was out of view of the public eye. I wish I could be one of those drug dealers who was comfortable driving right up to you on the street and handing you an ounce of cocaine. But I wasn’t. I’ve always been one of the ones that pussy out and have to park their car a half a mile away and meet you in some damn bush. But I guess that’s the way things go. If you want my merchandise, you’ve got to play by my rules. So anyways, I found myself a nice little log to lean on against this tree to wait until my client got there. It was snowing like we were in the Arctic south or something, and it made everything around me a blur. I pushed one of the branches in front of my face down so I could have a better view of the whole park. Point Park had been my spot for years now and I knew it like the back of my hand. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I should probably find a new spot, on account of the constant stream of people down here. There were boaters, fisherman, cyclists, joggers, everybody. You name it; they’ve been here. For some reason though, I was comfortable. If you were the type of drug dealer who would prefer to sell in wooded areas, there wasn’t a more convenient place in the city. My pickup spot was right downtown and generally every other night, I would come down to town, pick up in bulk from an old buddy of my brother’s, grab a bite from McDonald’s, and walk down to the point to meet however many buyers I had set up for that night. And it was all within walking distance. Talk about convenient. So I was standing there. And the guy was a good half an hour late. He had nerves. I should have left right then. It’s not like I didn’t have anybody else to sell to. I literally had people calling my phone every ten minutes to try to get stuff. To buy from me was a privilege, and only a selected few were able to do so. I’m telling you, I should have left then. I wish I would have, because what happened next changed my life forever. I buried my face in my gloves and blew out a deep breath to warm my nose up. I thought I heard something, so I took a quick glance up to see if it was this guy I was
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waiting on. I didn’t see him so I kept trying to warm my nose up. I heard something again, this time I was sure. I looked up, paranoid as hell. “Why? Why do I deal drugs? Why do I do this? I’m stopping. No more dealing drugs.” Things like this always ran through my head when I got nervous. I think I’m too uneasy a person to be a good drug dealer. Why couldn’t I be more like my brother? He was a great dealer. Maybe that was his problem though. He got shot and killed about two and a half years ago. I took over the family business then. The last thing I wanted, though, was to end up like him. So anyways, I was looking around like a madman, trying to figure out what the noise was. Next thing I knew, some broad was running out about thirty feet in front of my bush. “What in the hell is she doing?” I thought. About fifteen seconds later, a guy who was about eight inches taller than me came running behind her. He caught up and started to beat the shit out of her. I mean, literally. She was on the ground and all and he was over top of her and just beating her and beating her and beating her. I’d never seen anything like it. I didn’t know what the hell to do. I had about half a pound of coke on me and wasn’t trying to busted with all that. Besides, I am about five feet eight inches if I’m lucky. I couldn’t take this guy if I tried. He was like the Jolly Green Giant or something. Anyways, so he keeps beating her and I’m just sitting there thinking, “Damn. What could ever possess somebody to beat a woman like that? There has to be something I don’t know. Maybe she’s his wife... No. Then she wouldn’t have been running from him like that. Unless… Unless he’s that abusive that she’s scared to death of him.” Then I start imagining things like what they were doing before they got here. All the while, he’s pounding the shit out of her face, and I’m just wondering what restaurants they could have gone to before they got here. So I’m still thinking about all of that and next thing I know, he just grabs her purse and runs. Are you kidding me? He just practically killed this broad for her damn purse? She just lay there, not moving. I wasn’t even sure if she was alive. I just stood there and looked at her for a few minutes. What the hell was I supposed to do? Some crazy shit always seemed to happen when all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there. I should have called the cops, I know. But if they came, how suspicious would that look? They would definitely think I did it. And what was I supposed to do with all this coke? But I couldn’t just leave her there. I didn’t know what the hell to do. I stood there for a few minutes in shock. I knew I had to help her. So I looked around. I mean, I took a good five or ten minutes just to make sure there wasn’t anybody around. I didn’t see anybody, so I moved the branch in front of me and sprinted over to her. I shook her up like some dice. She wasn’t moving. I slapped her face a few times. This girl was out cold. The first thought that came to my mind, and God forgive me, was to go for her pockets. In her left pocket, there was nothing, but in her right pocket was her wallet. That made me laugh. The guy ran off with her purse and was going to get home to find that it was just a bunch of lotion and tooth floss that he just killed someone for. So I took her wallet out and started to look through it. The first thing I came across was her I.D. Angela. She was twenty-nine, an organ donor, all that good stuff. Then I found her business card. She was the director of finances at Highmark. Damn. This lady had to have the goods with a job like that. That, routinely, made me think to look for her money. I put the business card back in and closed the flap. I opened up the pocket for the money and she had a good three hundred dollars in cash. I could pocket this and take the night off.
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What a break that would be. I was all set to do it and leave the chick lying there, but when I went to close her wallet, I saw her pictures. They had to be her kids. The first one had “Markie, three years” written on the back, and the second had “Sophia, six years”. I took a deep breath and plopped down next to her, frustrated. I had four credit cards and an easy three hundred bucks in my hand, but all I could think about was how sad these kids were going to be when their daddy came in and told them that their mom was in the hospital, or dead, if she didn’t get any help. And they would all go visit her, and when she got better, if she did, they would have to deal with being robbed, too. It would be hell for them for a few weeks, when all this woman did was decide to take a walk through the damn park. I couldn’t take the money; I was so angry with myself. This world was dog eat dog and I just couldn’t keep up. Shoving the money back in the wallet and stuffing it in her pocket, I got up and trudged away. I was halfway across the field before I even realized that I had just left her lying there. I looked around quickly again and ran back over to her side. What the hell was I supposed to do with this? She wasn’t even moving. I wasn’t calling the cops. Those pigs would just find some way to pin this on me. I freaked out. Before I even came back to my senses, I was halfway across the park with Angela on my shoulders. I couldn’t seem to understand what had to be going through my mind when I made the decision to pick her up and run, but it was too late now to change my mind. I ran and ran until there was nowhere left in the park to run, only city streets. Realizing that it was merely impossible to make it down five blocks through town without being noticed, I turned around to take her back to the field. But before I made it two steps, I spotted a middle-aged man walking behind us. I had to make a decision now. I turned back around and started running as fast as I could through town towards my car. I tried to take the least crowded streets possible. About eight blocks and fifteen minutes later, we finally made it to my parking spot. I spent about ten minutes trying to make the backseat comfortable for her for the drive back to my apartment. I don’t know why the hell I spent so much damn time trying to make it so cozy when the woman wasn’t even conscious to feel comfort. And even if she did wake up, I’m pretty sure she would be in too much pain to notice the fact that I took the time to shape my coat into the most perfectly fluffed pillow for her. So I pulled off of Smithfield Street and drove about 85 miles an hour down every street. The drive that usually takes me twenty-five minutes took me about twelve. I didn’t even bother to park my car. I just pulled up and shut the car off, and wherever it happened to be was going to have to do for now. I opened the door and lifted Angela carefully into my arms and shut the door behind me with my hip. To get to my apartment, I had to unlock two doors and get through three. Let me tell you something: those were the three hardest things I’ve ever done. I’m not sure why, being as the woman was so beat up that hitting her foot off a wall or something wouldn’t have even mattered, but I made sure I maneuvered so carefully that not so much as a hair on her body touched a wall or a door or anything. I set her down gently on the couch and covered her with the blanket from my bed. The next half an hour was spent doing all this shit to make sure this woman, who, really, was still a stranger to me, was comfortable. I set the heat high so that she would be nice and warm, set a glass of water and some ibuprofen on the table next to her, cooked her up some food incase she woke up hungry. I mean I’d never been this hospitable in my life. I felt like I was doing all this as if her being in this position was
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my fault. I stood above her for while. It was probably about an hour I spent next to her, waiting for her to wake up. I knew that I should have taken her to a hospital, called the cops, called an ambulance, something, but it was too late for all of that. She was in my house and on my couch and I was involved now. I found myself just staring intently at her. My phone rang and snapped me out of it. My phone had been vibrating every two minutes since I picked Angela up in the field, but I hadn’t even bothered to look at it until now. I pulled it out to find 32 missed calls, 18 voicemails, and 23 text messages. Remember earlier how I told you that people called me every fifteen minutes to get a hand on some of my merchandise? Well I wasn’t kidding. Just taking the time to bring Angela back probably cost me about fifteen hundred dollars. For some reason though, that didn’t even faze me tonight. I had always been the type of guy that cared more about the well-being of other people more than myself, but due to my social standing, I hadn’t seen this side of me in a long time. To be honest, I kind of liked it. So anyways, when I took out my phone, it was my big customer. He always bought at least a thousand dollars worth off of me at a time, and it was the easiest thousand dollars a guy could make. I clicked the side button on my phone to make the vibrations stop, put it back in my pocket, and continued staring at Angela. Underneath all the cuts and bruises on her face, I could tell she was an extremely beautiful woman. That made me even happier to be helping her. After I stood there for long enough, the day started to take its toll on me. I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, so I went in to my bedroom and lay down. Within minutes, I was passed out. The last thing that went through my mind before I fell asleep, you know, that last image on your stream of consciousness before you fall asleep, was Angela’s face. Unfortunately, I didn’t wake up to that same face. I woke up to the faces that I despised since the day they took my dad away. A police officer named Officer Daniels was yanking me out of my bed. Before my eyes were even all the way open, they had my hands cuffed behind me. As they dragged me down the steps to the patrol car, I saw a few paramedics helping Angela into the back of an ambulance. She glanced over at me with this look of complete fear and dread. That face is a face I’ll never forget. I knew what happened. Angela woke up in the most horrible pain of her life. She had no idea where she was. She stood up and got her bearings, only realizing that she had been beaten up, and not remembering anything else. She found the phone and called the cops, easily assuming that I was the culprit. After shoving me into the backseat of his car, Officer Daniels walked away to check up on Angela one last time. His partner, whose name I did not catch, made a comment to me about all the drugs they found in my apartment. He said he looked down on guys like me who sold drugs and beat women. I didn’t even know how to respond to that, so I didn’t. I went into a daze in the backseat and played out the events of the past 24 hours in the back of my mind. The odd thing about that moment was that I almost felt for Angela more than myself. I knew that in this particular situation, I had done nothing wrong. All I did was try to help, and now, it would cost me my life in prison. But for some reason, I still felt horrible for her. She was the one who had to wake up in the worst pain of her life in some strange place, not knowing what was going on. And she was the one that was going to
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have to find out that I wasn’t the one who beat her up. In fact I was the one who tried to save her. I didn’t know how she would find that out, but I knew, in my heart, that she would. And she would have to live with that for the rest of her life. A drug dealer like me belonged in jail, but not for the reasons that I was being taken in tonight. I guess I’ll never know what would have happened had I let her lay there in the cold, unconscious that night, but I think about it every day all day sitting in this cold cell. I’m nineteen years old and I’ll be here until I’m ninety. The thing I think about more, though, is the smile Angela’s husband and kids had on their faces when they got the news that she was okay. To me, that thought made all of this worth it. Every last second.
Creepy Science Sub: An Ode to My Physics Teacher A long, long time ago, early this semester, I almost cried when I saw your face.
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And I knew if I had my choice, I'd never have to hear your voice, or never have to see you in this place. But your snaggletooth made me quiver, and your bald spot made me shiver. You always smell like nachos, and sometimes even tacos. I can't remember if I threw a fit, when I heard your name could be Ms. Schmidt. The worst day of my life I'll admit, is the day Ms. Pearsall quit. So why, why creepy science sub, why? You look like hell frozen over but a little less spry. Every time I see you I think you are a guy. And think this'll be the day that I die. Thinking this'll be the day that I die.
Moonlight Blues Hey baby, baby I can’t walk on the sunny side no more. My eyes hurt; I can’t walk on the sunny side no more. But the goo Lord knows that I been here before.
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I’ve lost a lot baby, my tummy aches from this loss. They all done gone and left me and I have lost. If you would’ve asked me, I couldn’t have foreseen this cost. I don’t know what else to do; I’ll wait for the dark. Don’t want nothin’ else; just want to see the dark. My life looks grim; it’s lost all its spark. Now I know I messed up. I just need one more chance. I know I can fix this. Just give me one more chance. I can promise you though, baby. I won’t misuse that chance.
Sonnet for Dog Love Motel
For the newly opened love motel for dogs in Sao Paulo I’m feeling a bit amorous today. - 30 -
I think it may be lack of canine love. My owner would fix this if I could say, just say that all I want is a piece of love. Something romantic, passionate, sweet. But, and I think because we cannot speak, a man opened up our own dog retreat. Now I can find a pup with good physique. I think that I can find love on my own and I think silky sheets are overdone, but I do not want to end up alone. If this is what it takes to find the one, let’s close up the blinds so that I can find a cute little puppy that blows my mind.
Breaking Free -A villanelle These words won’t come out. I can’t speak. I’m stuck staying silent all the time.
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This is just who I am this week. You tell me I’m not strong, that I’m weak. I’m drawing a blank. I can’t find the line. These words won’t come out. I can’t speak. Please stop taking my freedom from me. I want to yell, scream “This life’s not yours. It’s mine,” but this rebel isn’t who I am this week. I’ve become numb to this life. I can’t breath. When did parenting and dictating become intertwined? You’ve forced these words out. I can’t speak. It’s time for me to take the lead. I’m taking control before I die inside, because this is a new me this week. My new independence is something I’d like to keep. Making mistakes isn’t a crime. These words will come out if you’ll allow me to speak. Can you please help me be me this week?
Praying for the Wait to End -A Sestina I think that any ordinary person would snap and give up after fifteen months of waiting
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for you. But not me. I spend all my life hoping that you’ll come to your senses, praying that when this dream comes crashing, I’ll be able to piece together my heart. To be able to forget about the pain. But everybody knows you never truly forget pain. The kind of pain that makes the heart snap into two, or three, or a thousand little pieces. To be honest, I don’t know what I keep waiting for. My mind and body left you so long ago. I pray That my heart will too so I can salvage the rest of my life. It’s not much. You’d think I’d have learned to live independently by now. To separate myself from the pain you inflict so readily. This relationship is only a prayer. Always hoped for but never achieved. Would someone snap me back into my senses? I’m sick of waiting and I’m wondering if my mind will ever be at peace. One thing that I ask is that you don’t try to make peace with me. I’m not sure it’s in me anymore. I’m livid. How does it feel to know that the weight you put on my shoulders inflicts on me enough pain to make the whole world seem dim? I snap because I know to you I’m nothing but prey, a game. But this? Is not a game. Sometimes praying doesn’t work. I can pray for the million pieces of this scattered puzzle called my life to snap back into place. To wake up from this nightmare, live again. But it never works. Love isn’t a painless thing. IT rips your dreams apart and all you can do is wait for your lover to come around and love you too. Wait for someone, something, to answer your prayers. Just sit and watch the rain fall against the window pane. Take a breath. Let it all in. Try to find peace. Try to make something of your heartbroken life without them. Hold it together a little longer. Don’t snap. I wish I could keep my composure as much as I say. Wait patiently. Be understanding. Ignore the endless pain. But for now, I’ll just keep pushing, keep hurting, keep living.
Schadenfreude He was the type of person that lived in the shade others left behind. While others walked, he danced on their pains. Leaving in his trail an ache
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that no one could fill. But he refused to hear their cries. All he saw before him was the search for one more victim, one more person to con into his fraud. So with his thirst he once again began his chase. He would allow himself to be drenched in the joy of their pains. Everyday he deafened himself with their sorrows, knowing that behind their nude and raw feelings, their anger and rage, he was the cause.
The Death House My village: attacked. Kwasi: left to die in my arms, My parents: killed before my own eyes,
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Stuck on a boat being taken away from everything that I once knew. This can’t be real. Afi tells me to keep faith, to stay hopeful. “You be hopeful, chile. You have a strong, strong spirit.” How can I be hopeful? Hopeful of what when there’s nothing left to live for? I close my eyes and see The faces that were my home For one last moment, I am at peace. Then, the water, deep blue like Besa’s, eyes, rocks underneath the boat and jolts me back to the one thing worse than my nightmares: reality. But I mist live on. For everybody that will not: That cannot. For my mother, my father, And for poor, poor, little Kwasi, I must live on, And in my spirit, I shall carry theirs.
The Forbidden Fruit (Temptation: To try to get (someone) to do wrong, especially by a promise of reward) One would never predict the effects of temptation until they themselves faced with an invitation
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that is the doorway to an action completely unexpected. It’s not something you can prepare for, or something you know from instincts how to resist or accept. Temptation is simply a challenge that many fail. It’s being invited to something that sounds enticing and accepting it, expecting no repercussions, and never knowing or understanding how much giving into that temptation would change the course of things forever. An invite always sounds sweet to start, solely because you could never expect the consequences until you’ve already experienced the loss. The knowledge you gain from that loss still won’t stop you the next time something tempting arises. Some never learn. But before you give in, consider thinking twice, because in a lifetime, a person will be invited to things that have the potential to devastate. (Never eat the fruit from the snake’s tree.)
Scuffed Air Force, Blue Hoody Wearin’, Kelly Clarkson Jammin, Southside Bike Trail Hangin’ Hopefuls My we, we’re the type that
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wears blue bandanas out our back left pocket just so we can walk through Beltzhoover and feel tough. At home, we have closets full of purple pig covered pajama boxers, but as soon as we step out that door, we’re back to the Air Force wearin’, hood reppin’ thugs. We hate cops. My we, we’re the type that listens to Kelly Clarkson songs until we sing them in our sleep, but if you ask what we’re listening to, we’ll say Weezy or Joc because we know it’s what you want to hear. On our Ipods we have play lists titled “party” and “crunk”, but if you click on them, you’ll find they’re all cutesy love songs. We’re hopeless romantics and we recite The Notebook lines as part of our daily vocabulary. My we, we’re too mature for our age, but we’re not sure if that’s a good thing anymore. When did we stop being kids? My we, we’ll be Hey Arnold addicts, it’s all in our personalities. We’ll watch Family Feud like it’s our occupation and all the while sit wondering what if? My we, they’ll scrunch their faces and hold their noses up to me because I escaped their hell. Because I had the strength and power to. They’ll put me down and throw me out until I cry, but I won’t give in. Because with or without them, I will survive.
Prelude to Road Kill I thought that learning how to drive in the broad daylight was hard. That was until tiny
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animals started coming out from dark bushes, trying to do something that pushes them to become road kill, departed, because they see shiny lights, jump in front of my car, and die cause' I can't see at night.
Steelers Stars The Pittsburgh Steelers started out the 2007 season on fire and it looks as though they plan to keep it that way. With a 7-2 record, the Steelers were the number two football team in the nation at midseason, best in the AFC. Is this the road to the Super
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Bowl? Could it mean that the Steelers are on the way to having the most Super Bowl wins in NFL history? Well with the superstars that the Steelers are packed with, it just might. Ben Roethlisberger started out the year just wanting to redeem himself for his exceptionally bad season in 2006. He has done much more than that. He is 160 for 242 in pass attempts, with 2,020 yards, 22 touchdowns, and only 7 interceptions as of midway through the season. He is doing a phenomenal job getting out of the pocket and exploring his options across the field. Not only does he explore passing options, but he rushes, too. Ben Roethlisberger is the Steelers’ 3rd top rusher with 18 runs for 135 yards. Week after week, sports announcers rave about Big Ben’s talent, potential, leadership and success. Fast Willie Parker is faster than fast this year. He’s quickly approaching his 1,000-yard season with 212 rushes for 873 yards. The Steelers are the number two rushing team in the nation and Willie Parker plays a big part in that. This year, however, the Steelers have more than just their running game. They’ve also got an exceptional passing game. The three shining wide receivers this year are of course, the 2005 Super Bowl M.V.P., Hines Ward, the Steelers’ very surprising Santonio Holmes, and their relatively new, hot receiver/ tight end, Heath Miller. This year, Santonio Holmes is our leading wide receiver with 34 receptions and 589 yards. Heath Miller follows with 31 receptions for 421 yards. Hines Ward, who was out with a knee injury for a few weeks still is right up there with the other two with 35 receptions for 382 yards. Even the Steelers’ fourth man, Nate Washington, has 16 receptions for 251 yards. The wide receivers are working wonderfully together and it definitely seems that will be the case the rest of the season. Another huge factor in both the Steelers’ rushing and passing game is the offensive line. They, by far, have had the biggest improvement from last year. They are allowing Ben a lot of time in the pocket and are putting up great blocks for Willie Parker and the Steelers rushing game. This group of guys is the group that’s normally overlooked or taken advantage of. They make Ben, Willie, and most of the rest of the team look good, because without them doing as well as they are, the Steelers would be falling apart. The number one defense in the NFL- the Steelers. Their defense is unreal and packed with big time players. James Harrison is number one on the boards in the defense this year, with 57 tackles, 48 solo, 6 sacks, 1 interception, and 6 forced fumbles. Numbers like these are sure to make him a candidate for the Pro Bowl. Ike Taylor, although he’s got a temper that will get him into trouble every game, is one of the Steelers’ top defensive players with 40 tackles, 33 solo, one sack, 2 interceptions, and 1 forced fumble. Right along side him is James Farrior with 42 tackles, 31 solo, 5 sacks, and 1 forced fumble. Of course Pittsburgh’s beloved Troy Polamalu is shining once again this year. With 36 tackles, 28 solo, and two forced fumbles, he is being talked about as one of the best safeties in the league. With all the stars in Pittsburgh, it looks like the Steelers could be on their way to another Super Bowl, but playoffs are definitely certain by this point. With the loyal fans and great players, the Steelers are definitely in contingent to be the next NFL champions.
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The Importance of Junior Year Junior year: graduation projects, college searching, resume building. Is there a way to get through it all without losing your mind? The answer: I really don’t think so. Sorry for all of those who have yet to be eleventh graders, but there is no way to avoid the stress and wear and tear that junior year will put on you. There is, however, a few
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ways to make things a little less chaotic. My first piece of advice: don’t go into the year blindly. Know what type of work you’re going to be facing. If you don’t know, here it is. For some of you, you’ll be starting graduation projects. This is by far the most grueling experience you’ll encounter in your high school career. Get it over with as quickly as possible. The weight that it puts on your shoulders will bring you down hard if you wait too long. You also need to start looking at colleges and finding ways to make your resume look as impressive as possible. What is the thing that colleges see first when they’re considering an applicant though? Your grades. The most recent grades that they’ll see? Your junior year grades. Having those grades lower than you’d like will only cause strife and anxiety. When losing your mind during junior year, anxiety is not something that will make things better. So now you’re going in prepared. But that’s still not enough. Being prepared doesn’t mean you’ll do the work well. That’s my second piece of advice. Just because you turn in the work doesn’t mean you’ve got the A. A grade sheet full of fifty percents is no better than a grade sheet full of zeroes. If you’re going to spend your time on it, put in the little extra effort to get a grade that will actually help you. Don’t be lazy! My last piece of advice, which might contradict what I’ve said in the preceding paragraphs is, don’t be afraid. Junior year can bring some good things. If you do what you’re supposed to, keep things organized and in line, the majority of the year could be a breeze. Make sure that you take things on with a good attitude and put as much effort as you can into the work you do. It’ll all pay off when you can apply to the school you want in your senior year with confidence.
Being Why do we exist? What purpose do we serve here on this destined to fail planet? Why am I here? What is my job? These are questions I had asked myself for so long. That is, however, until I found the answer. My purpose here is to entertain. It’s to fill people’s imaginations with what I’m imagining, to try to share my thoughts through my - 41 -
words. That’s why I’m here, and that’s what I’ve been doing since I’ve made that discovery three years ago. A lot of people say that I’m one of the lucky ones. I knew what I was designed to do before I even started high school, and I’d have the rest of my life to do it. Well I’ll just say now, that it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Every night, when my body is trying to sleep, my brain tosses and turns, desperately needing to put my thoughts down on paper before I forget them. Most days in school, I find myself getting yelled at because I’m jotting down a poem or a song instead of doing my schoolwork. But what am I supposed to do when it’s all I think about. I try to push my thoughts to the side and focus on other things, but my imagination won’t let me. Whether I deny it or accept it, they’re still there and not planning on leaving until I put them down somewhere safely. So I’ve just found it much easier to accept the fact that this is my life, whether I like it or not. I can’t say that I was too thrilled at this discovery, but it’s time to accept it. And if that’s what I’m here to do, then so be it. I can’t control it. The only thing I can do is accept it and run with it. It is a disease running through my body that does not have a cure. This is me.
Political Science For the longest time, I have been enthralled by politics. Even as early as the 2000 election, when I was just ten years old, I can remember sitting in front of the television, keeping my fingers crossed, hoping for the candidate that my parents voted for to win. That was just the start of it.
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Just when I was beginning to mature was when America began its run of crises. From September 11th to the war in Iraq, now to the economic ordeal, America has, in my opinion, gone downhill. Aside from 9/11, all of these things are direct responsibilities to failed policies in Washington. As someone whose family was struggling back when the economy was booming with Clinton as president, it sure isn’t any easier now that taxes are up and incomes are down. I wanted to help prevent this from happening to future families like ours. Since then, I have become a true political activist. I have recently become captain of the Pittsburgh citywide chapter of a program called the Barack Stars, which is actually centered in Philadelphia. I am also volunteering with the Campaign for Change and currently awaiting a result from an internship application. But I have only just begun my exploration of politics and history. The rest, I hope, is yet to come. I believe that I am qualified for this major simply because of my hunger for learning its content. But beyond that, I am well spoken and my words transfer well to the page. The experience that I have, listed above sets me apart from other seniors, and I know that my eagerness and enthusiasm could flourish in this department. By majoring in Political Science, I feel, I am leaving my options open to any of the multitudes of political professions that interest me. I know that this is the department in which I’d like to explore my knowledge and passion for the field, and I hope to have the chance to do so next year.
Southside
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Whether you’re looking for a place to ride your bike, a place to catch a movie, a place to do some shopping, grab a bite to eat, meet new people, or just hang out with your friends, Southside is the perfect place to be. Between Southside Works, Carson St., and the bike trail, there’s more than enough to fill up an entire day. At Southside works, there is more than first meets the eye to entertain you and your friends for a day. Aside from the obvious (movie theater, shops, and the Cheesecake Factory and its fountain) there’s the chess pavilion, the apartment complex, the Caribou Coffee fountain, and much more. The chess pavilion is just behind the Cheesecake Factory and has a life sized chessboard and a few smaller boards. When it’s warm and sunny out, it’s a great place to go to get out and enjoy the weather while still doing something you love. Carson Street also may seem like a well known, worn out place, but it takes more than a few walks up or down it to truly get to know what’s there. First off, the dining will take you from one of the best Thai restaurants I’ve ever eaten at (Thai Me Up) to a nice, laid back diner that’s great to go to just to hang out for a while (Tom’s Diner). The prices are all over the scale, so whether you’re looking for a fancy sit down dinner or a cheap, quick place, you’ll be able to find it on Carson. On Carson Street, there are also some more leisurely things to do. The South Side Athletic Club is a great way to stay in shape and to let some energy out. It’s one of the nicer gyms in the city and is very conveniently located. The Ormsby rec. center and park also serves well to let some energy out. With a full-sized basketball court, a baseball field, a pool and a playground, it sometimes doesn’t even seem necessary to have a rec. center. However, there are constantly activities going on inside too. Carson Street is also the place to be if you want to see your home school play a little football. George Cupples Stadium, otherwise known as South Stadium. is the home to all the Pittsburgh Public Schools’ football games. Some other games, such as soccer and lacrosse are played there as well. Last but not least, the Carson Street phenomenon: the Beehive. Even with its new non-smoking ordinance, which has lost it a considerable amount of business, it is the most attractive things for teens on the Southside. It has good food and drinks, a pool table, ping-pong machines, and Internet and Wi-Fi access. Lastly, the bike trail, which runs right along the river, is a big selling point for Southside. When it was first opened, not very many people used the trail, but now it has become a huge trend. With nice fishing spots, a rope swing, a boat launch, a picnic park, a skate park, and great places to kick back and relax, the bike trail is slowly becoming the next new thing. - 44 -
As far as Pittsburgh hang out spots go, the Southside is right up there next to Oakland and Squirrel Hill. It attracts people of all ages and will continue to do so. While it may seem a little overrated at times, just remember to give it a second look and see what Southside really has to offer, beyond the obvious of course. You’ll be truly surprised.
Communications Recently, I had been contemplating the idea of reversed racism. To me, the fact
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that there could be a cable channel called Black Entertainment Television still means that there are race barriers being put up to separate the blacks and the whites. When there can be all black colleges, but it is against the law to have an all white college, I felt like we were still lingering in the past, pitying and therefore coddling the African American generations of today. Is that not continuing on in the same destructive path that Dr. King once tried to lead us away from? Over the past weekend, I met a man who goes by the name of Brother Vincent, a homeless African American man. My friends and I bought him dinner and sat with him in a Burger King for over an hour. While sitting with him, I had figured that there was no better time to inquire about my race issues than with a man who had been living it for almost thirty-five years. At first, when I proposed to him the idea of blacks now being racist against whites, which, in turn was then making whites even more racist, I was afraid he was going to get up and walk away, he was so offended. However, as we continued talking and I finally convinced him to listen to my full opinion, we both came to a realization. Our realization, which neither of us really had an open mind for previous to that, was that, in today’s society, the only way for the all the races, but more particularly our two races to survive, is for all of us to work together. We realized that there always would be some kind racism for the simple fact that the cultures between whites and African Americans are vastly different. As James Madison once said, as long as the reason of man continues fallible, different opinions will be formed, and thus, as long as these two races continue to be culturally and ethnically different, two men, by which I mean a person of any color, culture, sex or religion, will never be able to live without some form of hatred. In realizing this, Brother Vincent and I agreed to, from that point on, look at racism in a different manner. I agreed that when I saw an example of what I had thought to be reversed racism, I would then merely look at it as a way to express an individuality of a specific culture. And he agreed that, no matter how familiar it is to him to assume racism in a hard exterior white person, he would allow a chance to understand their opinions, like he had done for mine, before he made any decisions about them. This weekend I learned something very valuable about the efficiency of communication, and that is that with a little time and a little talk, more can be solved in my life and maybe in the world, than can ever be solved by sitting back and assuming things that lead to nothing but judgment and intolerance. It is in experiences like these that I come to learn a life lesson that is then shadowed in my actions permanently, and it is in situations like these that Dr. King’s dream lives on.
Racism in Heart of Darkness For years, it has been debated whether Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness is a
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socially acceptable piece. Many think that he demonstrates great racism and intolerance in his novel. But is this really the truth, or is this an opinion formed by only looking at one side of the equation? The truth is, this belief is a direct result of one-sided views and unfair accusations. Considering the time and context in which this book was written, it is unfair to call Conrad a racist. In fact, looking at the society in which he was living in at the time that he wrote Heart of Darkness, he was more tolerable than most of the rest of public. Looking at it through the eyes of the world today, yes, his novel may seem cruel and atrocious, but it is just those atrocities that drove him to write the story. What else does he have to base his story off of, other than what he heard and what he saw with his own two eyes? Conrad wasn’t a racist; he was just a man who was stunned by the things he saw on his journey to the Congo. Chinua Achebe argued that Conrad belittles Africa and its natives. In his article An Image of Africa: Racism in Conrad’s ‘Heart of Darkness’, Achebe explained that Conrad does not speak of Africans as his equal, but as people who are lower than he and deserve less than he does. Achebe had no problem stating that Conrad’s novel had “rendered no service and enjoys no old-age pension.” However, this is not true. It is because Achebe and others have searched so hard to find racism in the novel that they have actually overlooked the bigger picture. They have given Conrad an unfair disadvantage by overanalyzing each and every one of his words. For example, if you look at this quote from Achebe’s article, it is he who is creating the racism, not Conrad. “It is not the differentness that worries Conrad but the lurking hint of kinship, of common ancestry” (Achebe, 2). Considering the interactions that Conrad’s key narrator, Marlow, had with the natives, and the partnership that he embraced on his trip up the river with them, it is unjust to say that the possibility of kinship is what worried him. With that idea of out the picture, and with Achebe straightly stating that it is not the differences between the natives and the white man that scares Marlow or Conrad, what is left to call racist? Achebe later goes on to criticize Conrad’s passage about the African woman he encountered. Conrad writes “She was a savage and superb, wild-eyed and magnificent” (Conrad, 2). To this, Achebe says, “This Amazon is drawn in considerable detail… for two reasons. First, she is in her place and so can win Conrad’s special brand of approval and second, she fulfills a structural requirement of the story” (Achebe, 2). Here, Achebe is arguing that Conrad has ulterior motives for talking of a native in such a manner as this, a good manner. This draws the conclusion that everything that Conrad wrote was wrong, no matter what it was. If he spoke of an African in a bad way, it’s all towels thrown in; he’s too racist to even keep reading the book. And when he spoke of an African in a good way, he has to have another objective. Why? It is because Achebe, who was so anti-colonization, wanted to do everything he could to make sure that a book so different from his Things Fall Apart was branded as a racist book, therefore making it disrespected. Achebe also tried to debate the idea that Conrad was hiding behind his narrators. After admitting that Heart of Darkness is a fictional book and could very well have been no reflection of Conrad’s actual ideas, he says, “Certainly Conrad appears to go to considerable pains to set up layers of insulation between himself and the moral universe of the story” (Achebe 2). Again, this opinion was only formed because Achebe was so quick to jump to the only conclusions he let himself believe. In The Titanic, is the writer and director, James Cameron, using Bill Paxton and Gloria Stuart to express his love for
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Leonardo DiCaprio? Nobody would agree with that because it is such an absurd idea. So why is it okay for Achebe, or anybody else for that matter, to jump down Conrad’s throat for writing a book with language or ideas that they may not agree with? Luke Ravi, the author of an essay on www.oppapers.com agrees that the language in Heart of Darkness is a bit racist, but that we need to look beyond that to find other meanings. “When we look at the language, we are just looking at the very surface of the story. Heart of Darkness is a story full of irony and deception” (www.oppapers.com). This is true. If you get caught up in the surface information, which you may or may not find racist, you miss the bigger, deeper themes of the story, such as inner revelation, and, like Ravi said, irony and deception. With or without Ravi or Achebe’s judgments, it is easy to find places in the book where Marlow is showing compassion or sympathy towards the natives. For example, he said, “They were dying slowly- it was very clear. They were not enemies, they were not criminals” (Conrad, 83). Any man who can come to a realization like that in the situation that he was in could not possibly be considered intolerable. Another example of his tolerance of Africans is when he saw them falling down trying to carry the heavy packages for Kurtz. At that moment, he felt sorry for them and wished there was something he could have done. If you read Heart of Darkness without race-fogged goggles, you will be able to see Marlow’s feelings. Deep down, Marlow did not agree with many of the things that were going on, but he was too afraid to admit that. And for the people who think he was hiding behind multiple narrators, that would be the only reason why. The actual opinions that he had were so against his own people’s that he was afraid to reveal them. You can tell these things if you read carefully. When Kurtz died, why does Marlow show no emotion at first? It is because he truly felt that Kurtz wasn’t deserving of anybody’s sadness. He did not agree with the things that Kurtz did, and that plays a major role in why Marlow did not tell his wife about what he had been doing. Also, using Conrad’s own life as a judgment, it is obvious that his intentions were far from malicious. All of his life was spent sailing. He mirrored this in his narrator, Marlow. From the time he was a little child, he had dreamed about going to the Congo. “But there was one yet—the biggest, the most blank, so to speak—that I had a hankering after (Conrad, 71). It was something he envisioned since he was a little boy; to him, it was a fantasyland. When he finally got to venture to this place, it was nothing like he expected. He witnessed things that haunted him for the rest of his life, which is why he wrote the novella. Conrad was trying to show us a deeper meaning. A revelation of the inner self, ways to find who you truly are. Most importantly, he was trying to show us the frightening side of the truth.
The Cycle of American Racism Forty-five years ago, the riots were so bad at the University of Mississippi when
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James Meredith was to start classes that John F. Kennedy had to send the U.S. National Guard to protect him. Remembering that incident, and many more included in the Civil Rights Movement, is almost mind blowing to be preparing to inaugurate the first African American into the White House. Is this what we’ve been working for since the days of Dr. King? Throughout its’ history, this country has not been the most accepting, to say the least. We’ve had a constant struggle pushing for African American rights, and the younger people of this generation sometimes fail to remember that. Things were not always the way that we know them now. African Americans couldn’t always join us in the voting booths or in schools or buses. In today’s desegregated world, people tend to forget about that. Forty-five years ago, Martin Luther King Jr. and 250,000 other people marched on Washington to fight for change for the blacks in America. Today we are all facing change. Today, we have elected our first president of color. But is this to say that we are finally past the race barrier? Is prejudice and discrimination completely removed from today’s society? Absolutely not. Our country still has many, many milestones to overcome. Before Barack Obama was even elected, a group of white supremacists had planned and attempted his execution. Many members of the dying generation and the Baby Boomer generation are very much still living in their stubborn idea of segregated America. The children of these generations, naturally, pick up on their parents’ opinions, and thus are picking up on their racism as well. It is a cycle that may very well continue on forever. But when the majority of the country can move past it to choose a leader and President based on merit and worth rather than race or origins, we are moving towards a more equal America; an America that Dr. King lived and died for forty years ago.
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