Perspective by Mara Cregan

Perspective Cassandra Skweres

Perspective, Cassandra Skweres The Literary Arts Department Pittsburgh CAPA 6-12, A Creative and Performing Arts Magnet

CopyrightÂŠ2019 Pittsburgh CAPA 6-12, A Creative and Performing Arts Magnet Pittsburgh, PA The copyright to the individual pieces remains the property of each individual. Reproduction in any form by any means without specific written permission from the individual is prohibited. For copies or inquiries: Pittsburgh CAPA 6-12 Literary Arts Department Mara Cregan 111 Ninth Street Pittsburgh, PA 15222 mcregan1@pghschools.org Ms.Melissa A. Pearlman, Principal â&#x20AC;Š

“What was love, really? Flowers, chocolate, and poetry? Or was it something else? Was it being able to finish someone's jokes? Was it having absolute faith that someone was there at your back? Was it knowing someone so well that they instantly understood why you did the things you did—and shared those same beliefs?” ― Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice

Table of Contents Mama Liked the Roses Cup of Coffee A Little Bit of Advice Jello Stains What I Want Blink Mom and Me Hot Chocolate 31 Things You’ll Never Know

Mama Liked the Roses We didn’t have much planned that day. It was a Saturday and no one was around. Dad took my little sister to dance practice and was gone for most of the morning. When I woke up, Mom was still in her polkadot pajamas and sipping a cup of coffee on the couch. We watched as the man on t.v. spoke of how the weather was supposed to be nice, sunny with zero percent chance of rain. I asked her if she would be up for visiting Gram today. Mom had nothing better to do, so she agreed. I ran upstairs to get dressed, quickly putting on a new shirt and pair of shorts. When we pulled into Gram’s driveway, she was sitting on her porch steps, waiting for the car to stop. Mom decided that with the nice weather it would be best if we went on a walk. Gram agreed and brought her dog with her. She said they both had been cooped up for the past couple of days and needed some fresh air. Gram suggested a park not too far down from her house to drive to. On the ride, I watched as the leaves outside swayed as our car flew past. The light from the sun peaked through the leaves and into my eyes. It was warm when we arrived at the park. No one was around and the only sound was our feet hitting against the rubbled pathway. We walked side by side, watching as Gram’s dog would sniff the dandelions in the grass next to the pathway. I grabbed Mom’s hand, swinging it with my arms. She started to hum Mama Liked the Roses by Elvis Presley. Gram noticed and began to sing along. Her words rolled off her tongue like taffy, never sticking but always sweet. They continued their melody until we reached the end of the walkway, standing next to Mom’s car once more.

Gram thanked us for the lovely evening. “I needed to get out,” she said. She kissed my cheek and hugged Mom before getting in the car to go home. I felt Mom’s hands playing with my hair, so I glanced up to see her face looking down at me. Mom smiled and kissed my forehead. I remember she smelled of lavender.

Mama Liked the Roses We didn’t have much planned that day. It was a Saturday and no one was around. When I woke up, Mom was still in her polkadot pajamas and sipping a cup of coffee on the couch. I asked her if she would be up for visiting Gram today. Mom had nothing better to do, so she agreed. I ran upstairs to get dressed, quickly putting on a new shirt and pair of shorts. When we pulled into Gram’s driveway, she was sitting on her porch steps, waiting for the car to stop. Mom decided that with the nice weather it would be best if we went on a walk. Gram suggested a park not too far down from her house to drive to. On the ride, I watched as the leaves outside swayed as our car flew past. The light from the sun peaked through the leaves and into my eyes. It was warm when we arrived at the park. No one was around and the only sound was our feet hitting against the rubbled pathway. I grabbed Mom’s hand, swinging it with my arms. She started to hum Mama Liked the Roses by Elvis Presley. Gram noticed and began to sing along. Her words rolled off her tongue like taffy, never sticking but always sweet. They continued their melody until we reached the end of the walkway, standing next to Mom’s car once more.

Mama Liked the Roses We didn’t have much planned that day. It was a Saturday and no one was around. When I woke up, Mom was still in her polkadot pajamas. I asked her if she would be up for visiting Gram today. Mom had nothing better to do, so she agreed. When we pulled into Gram’s driveway, she was sitting on her porch steps, waiting for the car to stop. Mom decided that with the nice weather it would be best if we went on a walk. Gram suggested a park not too far down from her house. It was warm when we arrived at the park. No one was around and the only sound was our feet hitting against the rubbled pathway. I grabbed Mom’s hand, swinging it with my arms. She started to hum Mama Liked the Roses by Elvis Presley. Gram noticed and began to sing along. Her words rolled off her tongue like taffy, never sticking but always sweet. They continued their melody until we reached the end of the walkway, standing next to Mom’s car once more. Gram thanked us for the lovely evening. “I needed to get out,” she said. She kissed my cheek and hugged Mom before getting in the car. I felt Mom’s hands playing with my hair, so I glanced up to see her face looking down at me. Mom smiled and kissed my forehead. I remember she smelled of lavender.

Cup of Coffee After Hannah Bottomy’s Currents

CHARLOTTE got into bed, her pajamas on and hair brushed, pulling herself into a ball. She could feel the warmth radiating off of her body and into the sheets. Charlotte slowly drifted to sleep, listening to the fan humming above her.

BEFORE THAT, she had walked to the door with Sam, her date. He slowly picked up her hand and kissed it. Charlotte could feel a tingle gliding up her arm. “Good night,” Sam said. “Good night,” she replied, closing the door behind her.

BEFORE THAT, Sam had parked the car in front of Charlotte’s house. He smiled at her and got out of the car. She watched as he walked towards her side and opened the door. “Here you go,” he said, holding his free hand out for her to grab.

BEFORE THAT, Sam and Charlotte had left a little restaurant in the middle of town. They walked in the cool air, Charlotte’s heels clicking against the pavement. They talked about their families as they passed building after building, looking for the garage Sam had parked his car in.

BEFORE THAT, Charlotte and Sam had been sitting at a table, eating filet mignon steak, his medium and hers medium rare. Each drank from their glass of wine. He liked

red while she liked white. Sam listened as Charlotte spoke about work, the college she was going to, and the type of person she wanted to be. He watched her gently push her hair behind her ears and her eyes glimmer whenever she looked at him.

BEFORE THAT, Sam had picked up Charlotte at her house, ringing the doorbell and waiting until she appeared through the stained glass. He stepped back as she opened the door. She wore a silk red dress, red stilettos, and red lipstick. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a sort of half-up-half-down style. Her hair was slightly curled at the ends and she smelled of cherry blossoms.

BEFORE THAT, Charlotte had been getting ready in her room. She got out of the shower and dried her hair with a towel. Her dress was placed on the bed, her shoes on the floor. She sat at the vanity and curled her hair, watching as each strand formed into spirals. She pinned her hair in the back with a black clip in the shape of a circle. She grabbed her lipstick and started to spread the shade along the curves of her lips.

BEFORE THAT, Charlotte had been sitting at a table in a coffee shop. A man, unknown to her, walked over and sat down in the seat across from her. He said, “Hi, my name’s Sam. What’s yours?”

A Little Bit of Advice

It was a Sunday afternoon. Gram had felt lonely and invited mother and I to come over and play cards with her. Mother said I had time before bed, so we went. Gram had just finished lunch around the time we got to her house. She had the cards set up on the kitchen table. There were three piles of cards; one for me, one for Gram, and one for Mom. She decided that we were going to play war then 21. She loved playing simple, old school games. During the game, Gram asked me questions about school. She wondered what my favorite subject was this year and which teacher I liked the most. I could feel the one question I had been dreading about to roll off her tongue. “So, Sam,” Gram said, “have you made any new friends this year?” I didn’t know how to answer that simple question. “Not really,” I said. “‘Not really’ ain’t an answer. You either did, or didn’t.” Gram kept shuffling the deck of cards in her hand as she waited for my answer. “No, I haven’t.” “And why is that?” “Kids at school haven’t been really nice to me.” “How are they not nice?" “No one sits next to me at lunch, kids take my money for snacks, and people whisper about me during class.” “Do you know why they are treating you like this?” “No.”

“Did you make them upset?” “I don’t think so.” “Then maybe those kids are as shy as you. Maybe they want to get to know you, but are afraid to? Besides the ones stealing your money of course. Those kids are just plain ol’ bullies.” “Sweetie,” my mother said, ‘why didn’t you tell me about this?” “There’s nothing you can do about it. If I told you and something were to happen, those kids would call me a snitch.” “What’s so wrong with being a snitch if someone isn’t nice to you?” “What’s wrong is that I’d end up coming home with bruises all over me because those kids would be mad.” “Well, what can I do?” my mother asked. “Nothing,” my gram replied. “It’s better if he deals with it himself. You have to start standing up for yourself kid, or you won’t get anywhere when you’re older.” “Why?” I asked. “Because no one gets anywhere by doing nothing.” “That’s not always true,” mom said. “Yes, it is.” “So you’re telling me, you’ve never just done nothing.” “No, I haven’t. If something happened that hurt me, I told someone or did something about it.” “Sam just told us what happened and you said that I can do nothing. You’re contradicting yourself.”

“No, I simply said that your son needs to stand up for himself. Yes he told us, but we can’t do anything about it because we don’t go to school with him. He needs to find a way to resolve this issue by means at his school. He just said he can’t tell his teachers or else he would become a body bag. What he can do is confront them.” “Why can’t he ignore them? They’ll go away if they don’t get any satisfaction.” “Ignoring is the same as doing nothing, and by the sounds of it, these kids won’t just go away.” “And how come he’s only just told me this now, huh?” “I don’t know. You’d have to ask him.” Both Mom and Gram looked over at me, waiting for me to answer. I breathed in and out. “It’s like I said, if I told and then you told the school, I’d get beaten up.” “Oh sweetie.” Mom tried to brush the bangs out of my face, but I moved my head back. “Mom, please stop.” “Alright. Just next time, let me know. It might be a situation I can actually help with.” “Fine.” Gram coughed. “I’m not getting any older,” she said. “Scratch that, I am. Are you ready to play again or what?” “Yep," we said, and we played until the sun went down.

Jello Stains After John A. McCaffrey’s Words

Sam sat in his grandma’s kitchen, watching as his mom and his grandma walked around in circles, gathering ingredients to make strawberry pretzel dessert squares. It was summertime and the heat was unbearable. Sam’s grandma had fans all over the house, the light sound of vibrating metal could be heard anywhere. Sam stood by the kitchen island, crushing pretzels into tiny crumbs with a glass cup. He wiped some sweat from his face and continued working. His mom was now cutting strawberries over at the table and his grandma was preparing the pans with butter. Sam looked at one of them every couple seconds, keeping tabs on how both of them were doing. As Sam looked over to see his mom, she cried out in pain. Sam placed the glass cup down on the counter and moved over towards his Mom. “What happened?” Sam asked. “I cut myself,” Mom said. “Where’d you cut yourself, honey?” Grandma asked. “Ah, just my finger. The cut’s little though, thank God,” Mom replied. “By the sound of it, I thought you cut your finger off.” Grandma laughed and moved back toward the pans. “You know where the bandaids are.” Sam’s mom left the room. Sam went back to his spot near the kitchen island and continued to crush pretzels. While working, Sam remembered one time when he messed up cooking. It was the very first time he had helped his grandma and mom make strawberry pretzel dessert. He didn’t realize that he had to follow the recipe to

make it correctly, so he ended up ruining the dessert rather than making it great. Sam had been so clumsy that he got jello all over himself. He had it on his shirt, his hands, in his hair, and somehow in his ears. Once he got home, Sam had to take a really long, hot bath. He couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t help but think of what his grandma and mom thought of him. When Samâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s mom found him crying, she comforted him. She told him it was more fun than they had had in a long time, this made Sam happy. Now that Sam was older, he no longer had jello up his ears, but delicious desserts in his mouth. He was able to crush the pretzels into crumbs and very carefully lay them evenly on a tray coated with butter. Sam, every now and then, would to take a strawberry from the pile of sliced berries as he worked on the pretzels. He may have changed but the memory would always stay the same, and heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d never forget how much he connected with his mother and grandmother.

What I Want After Alison Townsend’s The Barbie Birthday

I remember it had been cold. I was walking home from work, bag in hand, heels clicking against the concrete. Then I saw her. Tall, slim, legs-for-days, and amazing attire. I couldn’t believe a woman like that would be walking around in the same neighborhood as me. She looked more together than I did. Highlighted papers in my bag were crumpled together in weird forms of balls, my tights had miniature holes in them, my hair looked as if I housed birds in it, and my heels were from a Goodwill store down the street. As I walked the rest of the way home, I couldn’t get her out of my head. I know people always have crap that they have to deal with in their lives and sometimes I can tell based on how they dress or how they walk in a crowd. With her, it was different. She looked as if everything she wanted she got, and her plan was set for the rest of her life. How was it that she had her crap together and I didn’t? I honestly wasn’t even sure if I could live through tonight, let alone the next day. I realized, that if I felt this way, then why was I wearing a ring on my left finger? At home, I waited in my room for Sam to come home. We had been engaged for three months and now, the only thing I could think of was why did I say yes? I looked around our apartment, trying to find the answer hidden in everything; a crack in the wall, a loose piece of paper, food in the refrigerator. When I couldn’t find it, I resorted to a nap.

When I woke up, Sam was in the living room on the couch doing work. “Hello,” I said “Evening.” “Did you make anything for dinner?” “No. As soon as I got home, I had to start with this paperwork. I wasn’t sure when you were going to wake up, so I didn’t bother.” “Oh.” I moved over to the island in the kitchen and leaned my elbows on the counter. I watched as Sam continued skimming the papers in his hands. “Sam, this doesn’t feel right.” “What?” “This, us, it doesn’t feel right.” Sam looked up, putting the sheet of papers he was holding on his lap. “What, are you having second thoughts?” “Maybe.” “Why?” “I just feel like this isn’t right. I want to do things, but I’m not sure if what I want includes you.” “What? Do you not love me anymore?” “No, I’m just saying I know who I am and what I want to do with my life, but I’m not so sure how it includes you.” “So, what? You want to take a break?”

“I’m not sure. I just really needed to get this off my chest.” Sam sat on the couch staring at his papers. “Sam it is not you, truly. I love you, I do, I just need to figure things out. If I get married, I want to be sure I’m doing it for me and you, not just for you.”

Blink

There once was a young girl who lived all alone. She grew up in an orphanage just outside of the city. In the orphanage, she dreamed of finding a home. She would watch as kids younger than her would leave with parents every day. She couldn’t understand how the parents could love them more than her. Years went by as she watched new kids leaving while she stayed in the exact same place. When she was an adult, she left the orphanage and fled to the city. In the city, she got a job working at an office. While working, she met a man. He made her feel special and not alone like she once was. In time, the man and girl grew closer and became married. A year later, the girl gave birth to a child. The girl realized she was no longer just a girl, but a mother too. The child grew to become her own person, leaving her parent’s house as a woman. The woman later on got married and gave birth to a son. The son became a reason for the mother to visit more often. The mother would visit the woman and her son every holiday, stopping by with presents to give and food to share. The mother would bring candy for the son and take pictures with the woman while she was there. Not long after, the mother’s husband died. She became all alone and sad. She stopped visiting the woman and the son, hiding in her room. She would listen to music as she’d fall asleep, a numb feeling inside her chest vibrating ever so softly. It took the mother a couple months for her to feel happy again. Years had gone by since the mother had lost her husband. The mother’s hair had grown white and her back arched. She began to use a cane wherever she walked. Time

seemed to pass quicker as the days turned into nights and she found herself back in her bed, pulling the covers over her shoulders to keep warm. The woman and the son would come to visit, always trying to help whenever they could. Every time, the son would give the mother a kiss on her cheek as they would go home. One day, after a dinner of meatloaf, the mother decided to take a nap. As she walked up the steps to her room, she tripped an fell. When the woman and son came to her place, they found her lying on the floor. When an ambulance showed up, the mother was taken to the hospital. The mother woke up to noises in the hallway. She could slowly start to feel the pain in her arms from the IV. She propped herself up in the hospital bed, allowing herself to see in the mirror. The mother watched as she touched the wrinkles on her face. The mother realized, that in the blink of an eye, she had grown from a small child to a very old woman in a hospital bed. Where did the time go?

Mom and Me After Bette Midler’s The Rose

My mother once said that women’s sole purpose in life was to marry and have children of their own. I never really understood her anti-feminist comment until I was in high school. Around then, I started to disapprove her ideals of woman and their roles in society. Yes, I wanted to be a mother, just not the same day I would throw my cap and say goodbye to the past four years of my life. The easy part was choosing what I wanted to be. The hard part was, I didn’t know how to tell my Mom. College wasn’t an easy subject matter with Mom. She would always rant about how woman were trying to be something they weren’t. She thought the only thing they needed to do was find a man and settle down. Instead of bringing it up, I applied on my own. It hurt, but I knew she wouldn’t speak to me the rest of my life if I did. Every day after my first application went out, I made sure to get to the mail first. My idea was that if I didn’t get in, Mom wouldn’t need to know. Sneaking around was just a way to protect her. During school days, I would leave school a second before the bell rang, run home, peek inside the mailbox, and then go inside as if everything were normal. On the weekends, I would watch the mailman drop off our mail as I ate breakfast in the morning. After I finished, I would go out, get the mail, and hide whatever was addressed to me in my robe.

One day, I forgot and my Mom found out. I had gotten a letter in the mail saying I had been accepted by Michigan State University. “How could you do this to me?” she asked. “Because Mom.” “Because why?” “I’m not a little girl anymore. I want to go to college and get a degree in a profession that I like.” “Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve said?” “Yes, and I hate it. You’re telling an entire gender what to do while thinking only about yourself. Woman in the world want to be more than just a mother.” “You mean you.” “Yes, I do.” “Get out.” “What?” “I said get out! And don’t bother coming back.” I left without a word. The rest of the year, I stayed at a friend’s house. Once I graduated, I was gone. A couple years later, I met Sam. He was sweet and kind, and loved me for me. He admired my ambition for my degree and I loved him for it. After graduation, he took me on a date. It was nice and sunny. The wind was breezing ever so slightly. We were eating our lunch under a maple tree. All of a sudden, he was on knee asking me to marry him. Of course, I said yes.

The only thing was, after he proposed, I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t stop thinking of my Mom. All she ever wanted was for me to be with someone who loved me and to start a family of my own. I thought many times that day to call her up and tell her I was engaged, but it hurt too much to pick up the phone. I guess Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll never know what might have happened.

Hot Chocolate After Robert Olen Butler, excerpt from Intercourse

Sam You are so cold, your toes are tucked into the edges of the couch, your body is bundled under the blanket you bought a week ago, you are seven feet from me but those seven feet feel like seven miles, when I speak, there is no response except the sound of your breath escaping your lungs, I watch as you stare at the burning logs, I move toward you but you push me away, Charlotte, you push me away as I try to hold you in my arms, as I try to comfort you on that couch your mother got us for our wedding shower, I didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t want her to but you insisted that we let her, you still sit on that couch, the fire going and the boiling water on the stove, almost ready to be poured into a cup of cocoa powder, marshmallows will dance on the top of your cup as you sip from your mug which I bought for you on your birthday, those marshmallows will kiss your lips and burn your tongue while I sit back and watch, I will watch as you slowly divide yourself from me, as if we easily melt like the marshmallows in your hot chocolate and think, why donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t you kiss me anymore, do you not love me

Charlotte You come home from a long day at work, I watch as you rub the back of your neck, as you rub the ends of your eyebrows hoping it will help the migraine go away, you put your stuff down on the floor, the snow melting from your belongings onto the hard wood, I told you to never do it again but you never listen, I listen as you try to talk to me, as

you try to tell me about your day, I listen as I watch the bark engulfed in flames, the ashes falling to the bottom of the fireplace, I can hear the crackling in the wood as it breaks apart, piece by piece, I watch as you head to our room to get changed, your clothes soaked from the snow outside, I rub my hands against the blanket, trying to make my body warm, you come into the living room and sit down next to me, your hands wrap around me, I shake them off, I get up and grab the pot of boiling water, pour it into my mug, smell the chocolate as it rises from the cup to my nose, you stare as I walk back to my in-caved seat, your body inches from mine

31 Things You’ll Never Know After Mathew Burnside 1. It wasn’t your fault. 2. Your son knew you brought him a new fish home when his other one died. He could tell the new fish had more of a red accent to his flippers. Benji was metallic green. 3. The man you lost your virginity to was not a virgin. 4. Tomorrow was going to be your 20th wedding anniversary. Your husband didn’t book a reservation at your favorite restaurant like he usually did. Instead, he had written you a letter. 5. The only time your daughter ever found your jokes funny was on your birthday. She felt you had the best jokes when you were more confident about yourself. 6. Your best friend had a crush on your husband. It ended when she found out you were pregnant. 7. The woman down the hall from where you worked took your position once you were gone. She had been wanting it since the day she arrived. 8. The man in the car that hit you lived. He woke up with amnesia. 9. The boy who kissed you under the bleachers in college didn’t actually like you. He made a bet with a friend to see if you would sleep with him. He lost. 10. The kid who stuffed love letters in your elementary school locker was Jay. He was a couple seats behind you in English and loved to listen to your voice whenever the teacher called on you to read. He didn’t know how to approach you, so the letters were the best way to. When he finally got the courage to ask you to a dance, you said no. It hurt his confidence the rest of his life. 11. The man who hit on you at the pool used to be your husband’s best friend in high school. He didn’t mention their relationship because he already knew who you were. 12. When you flew three hours to see your son graduate, he noticed as you entered the room. He didn’t walk up to you because he was afraid you’d cry all over his robe before he got on stage. He knew you’d want good pictures of him for years to come. 13. Your parents threw a party after you left for college. 14. On your sweet sixteen, your mother cried herself to sleep.

15. The cookies you baked in eighth grade as your Secret Santa present were left in the cafeteria over winter break. By the time everyone came back, the cookies were stale. They were thrown into the trash after someone tasted them. 16. When you were ten, your dance teacher thought you had a shot. If only you dedicated more of your time to dance would you have succeeded in the art. Instead, you were busy making friends. 17. Your cat didn’t run away when you were young. Your mother hit it with her car as she was pulling into the driveway one night. She buried it under a pile of flowers the next day. 18. Sleeping was the only way your husband felt at peace. The ring he wore was his personal cage. 19. Your best friend lied to you when she said that you looked beautiful. She didn’t want you to cry in the mall after you and your high school boyfriend broke up. She thought you were pathetic. She only cared so that you would pull yourself together. 20. Your daughter kissed your forehead before you were tucked away forever. 21. At the movie theaters, when your husband was going to the bathroom, he was actually talking to the woman selling the popcorn. 22. Your son knew your husband was having an affair. The moment he found out, he stopped talking to your husband all together. The only reason he still came to family gatherings was because he needed to make sure you were okay. 23. Your father’s last thought was of you learning how to ride a bicycle for the first time. 24. Your daughter got pregnant. The father was the guy in the band she always hung out with. She got rid of it before senior year started. 25. Your mother, after you told her you were pregnant, stared at herself in the mirror, touching the wrinkles on her cheeks. 26. You left your wedding ring on the vanity in your bedroom before walking out of the house. 27. The woman you saved from getting hit was a mother of ten. She didn’t even realize there was a car heading toward her until she felt the pressure of your hands on her back and her face hit the asphalt. 28. Your mother never wanted to be a mom.

29. Your daughter was planning on running away. She and her friends had been talking for months. The piggy bank on her nightstand had $500 already in it. The suitcase in her closet had a ticket for London. The plane would leave tomorrow. 30. Your husband was cheating on you with a thirty-year-old woman from work. He wanted to tell you, but he didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know how. How could he say that the past twenty years of your life with him was fake? 31. Your son will visit your grave every year, even though he will grow old and become married. Even when he has children and grandchildren, he will visit. He will lay dandelions above your tomb in remembrance of the only woman he ever truly loved. â&#x20AC;Š