Midnight Writers April-May 2023

Midnight Writers

April/May 2023

Greetings, one and all! Welcome to the final ever Verily Vérité. A tragic, nostalgic event-my dear audience, you will all be dearly missed. It is the month of May and the year is winding down to an end; seniors will be graduating in less than two weeks! A new adventure awaits, beyond these storied four walls--but in the meantime, let’s linger.

Beyond the ever-growing change and new stages to await, some things remain the same. Time stays as cyclical as ever. Springtime arrives, then retreats, then arrives, then retreats, then cautiously steps forward, then retreats again, then sprint full force away, then slowly slinks back and finally settles (such is Maryland, as we know). Flowers bloom, pollen allergies abound, AP exams are conquered (or conquer us), clubs have their end of year celebrations. And what a celebration for us, the Midnight Writers.

I’ve been a part of this club since my freshman year--it was the very first club I joined at Churchill. (And I’ve kept the same pseudonym all four years! Wild.) And for that, and the excellent vibes, it will always hold a very special place in my heart. I hope you freshmen stick around too, and find yourselves here once these four years pass. The vibes of this club really are that great.

See you all around! It’s been a great year.

3

Special thanks to Sra. Steele, Cupid, Vérité, viento de levante, Erebus Tree, svnmii, and sophka

wchs.midnightwriters@gmail.com

À la fin, Vérité/Aphro/Dite/Halimede

issuu.com/midnightwriters

Forever Longing by Heartache

Forever longing for midnight. For the sky to turn dark. For the sun to set. For the comfort of my bed.

Because there one can dream of someone. There is the thrill of being held by a person who you have yet to know. To trust.

It’s foreign. Different. Dangerous.

It’s more memorable than any significance one has ever felt before.

But one’s dream becomes a nightmare the moment they wake. There is this annoyance in loving.

There are quite a few. Actually. Stay open hearted, but be loyal. Be logical, when romance is always (if not most of the time) illogical.

Keep it simple, but what if one were to be different? What is your definition of yourself, does one have to choose?

Sometimes, these things keep me away from it. Call me a coward, it is true. When it comes to offerings from Aphrodite, I feel the need to refuse.

But if one is immune to Cupid’s arrow, why do they dream of someone every night? Can they dream of a lover at all? Why does one romanticize and think so much of a character who won’t ever exist?

How could I handle the life of loneliness, if I keep longing for someone?

How can one love someone if they have set their sights far above the horizon?

Oh, that is another bump in the road. They say that you will never be happy if you have expectations you expect to be met by someone.

But how can one help it? Isn’t it nature to be picky sometimes?

This cycle repeats itself.

Longing. Waiting. Realizing. Stopping.

Then dreaming. Wanting. Believing. Then longing again.

In my secret garden, I’ve grown a family of flowers. That has become quite troublesome.

To those who will never wander inside it, it is quite barren. Other than those flowers.

A delicate Lily of the Valley. Who longs for the return of happiness.

A Bleeding Heart. Who droops with unrequited love. A symbol of a broken heart, bleeding.

And pale pink camellia. Who is always looking to the sky. Longing. Waiting. For someone to detach her head from her empty secret garden.

In search of true sunlight and rain.

But alas, her gardener has yet to plant a flower of courage.

4

“Blooming,” Illustration by Heartache by svnmii

no one really knows because i stare off like i wish for another world

because i’m a quiet girl stuck to books, glasses all like a genius

truth is, i don’t think that much (i think)

it’s always been a daily dream

... golden heart, hazelnut chocolates small bouquets

dancing in the rain walking our town forever smiles in the night it’s cold and i wonder what more could i ever do i always beg please don’t let him go i’m the happiest i could ever Be. ...

-- hey, hiya

-- you have a lot on your mind, perhaps? not really, just aps -- hm. sure you’ll be fine haha ...

i don’t know anyone except my other half

i’ve traced my hand over delicate parts of a lively sculpture

like it’s all my own sometimes at night i’m not lonely in my room ... because i see everyone walking hand in hand

as i reach out for nothing that exists somewhere else

5

goodnight

“Timeeee,” Illustration by nroC

because they all have a reason to laugh and smile

as i think about the way his mouth curves his care, tenderness because anyone has anyone and what about Me? ...

he’s my own little garden a soft shelter

sometimes i can cry and he’s just calm

there’s been sunny days and rainy ones

and then i no longer need to make it when he wants to end it all

it’s night everyday stuck in lost memories ...

there’s no point in school ...

he comes back eyes swollen

it’s unlike anything i’ve seen

because i have to be the one to hold

he tells me he’s sorry and this makes me cry

sometimes we all feel that we’re not good enough but i think we should all realize that there’s someone who will love you just the way you are i missed stroking his hair i love him because he was real

he says that there’s something alluring about me but what? i never tell him Anything

and then that’s when i should instead of always listening to him instead of looking at everyone else instead of living in a silent dream

6

Before

“Are You Real?”, Illustration by [REDACTED]

lostt

by svnmii

overgrown weeds dead thorns

all the dead plants behind the peeling gates and i always think that it was the most peaceful place to ever be

there was one orange rose and i tore it off my best friend loved it i had cuts on my fingers later but still, i adored it all even if the old vultures hated me of course they all did the vines

by Vérité

crawling up the four corners the red blooms lay their stake from the walls to the windows, they take and they take a neverending, never losing battle of the heart in the end comes victory as they tear the home apart.

mouth by svnmii

taste of primera

fizzy iced tea it slides down my tongue like a light joke pollen likes scratching my throat

multicolored beam almost if June existed

and when i bloomed so did you

plaid whispers and golden picnics

sunlight blinds cloud bunnies i liked comics and the number 8 because of you linked pinkies all a daydream

secret by Vérité

a silent whisper, grows its destructive seedling, walling off the soul.

7

lost and found

by Vérité

The mermaids are still gathered curiously around the sunken wooden hull when the inspection team arrive.

“Ah,” the Head Inspector says, glancing at the assembled crowd. She’s a tall one, eyes piercing, hair pinned back in a severe bun, tail a muted dark blue with the scales shimmering. “Anything we should know before starting our business?”

The question is addressed to the crowd at large. It’s snatched up by an orange-tailed teen in the front. “There’s a person in there.”

The girl says it flatly. The mermaid besides her, purple-tailed, brunette, and practically attached to her friend’s hip, breaks out into fits of giggles.

“Good heavens!” The Inspector’s brows shoot upwards. “Are they alive?”

“He’s fine,” the girl says with a roll of her eyes directed at her friend. “Kiena gave him a breathing shell.” She tilts to her side and pokes Kiena in the side, then mutters, “And mouth to mouth.”

Kiena giggles louder. The mermaids around them occupy varying levels of highly amused to highly irritated. The Inspector raises her brows even higher.

“He was drowning,” Kiena defends.

“I see.”

“I saved his life!”

“Of course,” The Inspector deadpans, then makes a shooing motion with her hands. “Very well. Disperse now. We have work to do.” Protests arise. “Yes, we will keep the town updated! Never fear, all of the good gossip will reach every last one of you. Leave us be.”

With some last looks backwards, the mermaids grumble their way back home, Kiena and her friend trailing behind before ultimately disappearing into the blue. The Inspector sighs and rubs her hand against her forehead before swimming into the gaping hole in the side of the ship. With a sharp gesture of her hand, the rest of the team stays behind.

Inside, the young man is floating about, one hand holding the breathing shell against his mouth and the other flipping through pages of crudely drawn maps. He looks decidedly focused, only to glance up with a beam when he sees the Inspector.

8

“Koi Fish Supremacy *sunglasses emoji*”, Illustration by nroC

“You can drop the shell now,” the Inspector says, folding her arms. “We both know you don’t need it, Jin.”

Jin drops the shell, then swims forward with a blinding grin. “Ma! How’s it been down here? Man, I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“You saw me last week,” she tells her son, unimpressed.

“A week too long, Ma,” Jin says with a shake of his head. “Now, I gotta tell you about this latest voyage because I think I’m really on to something this time--”

“You crashed your ship, Jin.”

“On purpose! I was testing a hypothesis.”

“It was most certainly not on purpose, we both know that.”

“It was, I swear it was! I know what I’m doing, Ma, sometimes you’ve just gotta follow where the expedition leads you and--”

Outside the ship, the rest of the search team settles in on the surrounding rocks. One pulls out a pack of scales for a game of Fishtail.

“It’s going to be a long wait, isn’t it?” one sighs.

The surrounding crew nods, amusement rising.

“With those two? We’ll be here till the break of dawn.”

And their weekly Fishtail hour begins.

Timebomb by [REDACTED]

Boys, amiright?

Reckless, destructive. The fire in his eyes

That lights up your world, Igniting the fuse Attached to your heart.

Crackle and burn. His fire is alien

And yet it’s fate. It brings you to life

And yet it must destroy you. And you fear how little you fear that.

Crackle and burn.

You can hold it a bit longer. It isn’t too close. Your fuse must be lengthy, And the fire can’t burn fast. You can hold it a bit longer.

Crackle and burn. The fuse ran out A long time ago. The supernova destroyed you, You were never the same inside. His fire rages inside of you And gets bigger at the thought of him. His fire eats away at you inside But you can’t let it show. Besides, it’s warm, You don’t want him to take it back.

It hurts.

You know it does. But now it’s your fire. Your problem. Your pain.

You can handle it a little longer.

9

b o o m .

The Prey in the Night

by Victoria Desrosiers

I wake up with a pounding in my head. The smell of saltwater fills my nostrils and makes me gag. The realization hits me that I’m not on the ship, as I was supposed to be. I’m on some sort of island, but the light is too bright for me and I can’t see. I’m sure I was looking for something.

I stumble as I try to get up, the island is quiet and small, I can see all the way across it. The only sound is the crashing of the waves. As I get up, I realize that my boots are gone. My feet burn as I walk across the scathing sand. I can’t remember what I was looking for.

I can’t believe my crewmates left me here, or maybe the ship sank, or maybe I asked to be here. It doesn’t matter, I can’t even remember my own name. My head feels like it’s on fire. I put a hand on it and it comes away bloody.

Day sinks into night and I can’t remember what I’m doing here or what I was looking for. I lay down on the sand, my head wound staining it crimson red. I remember that this is dangerous, it’s not just sharks that are attracted to blood, it’s also birds. As I fall asleep, I dream of a beautiful song.

The next day, the pounding in my head gets worse. I can feel my blood thudding in my ears so loudly it blocks out even the sound of the ocean. The sun reflects the white sand, burning my eyes. I have given up on trying to move. Now, I just lay in the white sand, my throat so dry I can barely breathe.

Finally, darkness comes and with it a cool air. I feel like I can finally breathe. I stare at the dark water. As I watch the calm waves, a pearlescent fin appears. It looks so beautiful, I’ve never seen any fish that color. I try to stay awake but exhaustion pulls me into darkness.

I wake up to the sound of thunder. The sky is black and it’s hard to see in front of me. The dark water froths toward me and I crawl away. I listen to the thunder, but under it, I swear I hear the most beautiful singing.

Hesitantly, I crawl towards the water. I see the pearlescent tail again. I wade into the water. I slam my head into the waves and look down, I see a mermaid. Her back is turned to me but her tail is beautiful and she has long dark hair. The saltwater stings my eyes and the current pulls me toward her.

She turns to me, her eyes are completely black. She bares her fangs and I am pulled under.

A Blur of Rainbow

by Victoria Desrosiers

Thomas couldn’t sleep. It was probably just the stress of managing some of the biggest stars in Hollywood. He hadn’t slept for two days, but he figured that he would be okay, he just had more time to work now.

Thomas had spent his time reading through a few potential scripts for his actresses, but by now, the words were starting to blur. But Thomas still couldn’t fall asleep, a steaming cup of coffee sat on his oak desk. He glanced out the window of his office and decided that he should return to his hotel.

10

“friends birthday :]”, Illustration by Hecate “Bisexual Lighting,” Illustration by Hecate

Thomas got a cab. During the whole ride, he was silent. Exhaustion had seeped into his very bones. He watched as the neon signs of Hollywood flickered and danced across his tired eyes.

“Tommy, I can’t thank you enough for taking me out today.”

“It’s not a problem at all Betty, after all, you’re going to be a star.” Tommy said, staring at Natalie. She was beautiful, with dark brown hair and warm brown eyes. Tommy could practically see her impending stardom.

“Awww, you’re such a sweetheart.” Betty said, planting a kiss on Tommy’s cheek.

“Not in public!” Tommy said, “Betty, if they find out about us, your career will be in serious danger!”

“You’re right,” Betty sighed and looked apologetic, “It must be the wine.”

“Let’s get you home then.”

Tommy arrived at his room, he laid on the plush bed and closed his eyes. Despite his exhaustion, sleep didn’t come. Tommy felt awful. He turned on the television and attempted to pay attention.

Blue light flickered on his face, illuminating dark circles under his eyes. He groaned and turned off the television, he knew where he had to go.

Thomas and Betty sped down the road, sharing a bottle of whiskey between them. Betty screamed with delight after every bump in the road.. Thomas laughed, and, encouraged by Betty, went faster. He was so in love with her, he had worked with many beautiful actresses, but she was different. Thomas was happy to be the one behind her fame, begging directors to give her scripts and organizing photoshoots. She had a few promising movies to be released in the next few months, and then it was up from there.

Thomas decided to walk to the place, he didn’t want any potential paparazzi catching him in a cab. His weary steps gently pressed the sidewalk as he listened to the liveliness of Hollywood at night.

Thomas crept into the hospital. The nurses ignored his presence, his fame allowed this. He arrived at Betty’s hospital room, the walls had been painted a putrid shade of green. Betty was watching television, the lights flickered, casting shadows on her scarred face.

“Hello Betty,” Thomas croaked nervously, “How are you feeling?”

Betty ignored him and continued watching the television, a tear slid down her cheek, she cleared her throat.

“You promised that I was going to be a star.”

“I know that,” Thomas said, “That can still happen.”

“You took away my future, I’m out of time.”

“I’m sorry, I can fix things.”

“No you can’t, just stop pretending.” Betty said, looking at Thomas with a look of pure anger. Her brown eyes had lost the warmth and beauty they had once held. A half moon scar slashed across the right side of her face. Thomas, with his head down, left the hospital.

As Thomas left the hospital, he tried to reason with himself. There would be plenty more women like Betty, and he would make them stars. It wasn’t his fault he crashed the car, Betty encouraged him, she played a role in her own downfall. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault.

The lights swirled around Thomas as his body finally relented to the exhaustion that he was feeling, he collapsed in the middle of the road. Rainbow lights swirled around him and created a beautiful picture of Betty, before the crash. Thomas smiled, and then fell into a peaceful darkness that he would never awake from.

“Looks like you’re out of time too, Tommy.”

Thomas sped up even more, Betty cackled. The lights of the neon signs became a blur of rainbow. The lights shone on Thomas face as he pressed even further on the accelerator. Suddenly, Betty’s laughter morphed into a cry of fear. Thomas tried to hit the brake but it was too late.

11

“BONE!!”, Illustration by Hecate

(noun)

by Eneas

It started as a normal morning to most. The smell of a freshly baked loaf of bread wafted over the roofs and through the windows of the simple wooden houses of the kingdom. The scented trail could be followed from the (nearby) walls of the kingdom to the small stone bakery near the center. Just minutes after the new batch of loaves was pulled from the fire, the creak of the wooden door could be heard a few steps from the table, and a new voice joined those merrily chattering at the tables around the bakery. The newly baked loaves were gingerly placed into a basket as a new batch was placed in the fire. One loaf was taken away to be made into a sandwich, while the rest were left to the buyers.

One of the merry voices of the tables stood up and lightly approached the counter. Some chatter, laughter, and a clink of some coins later, three loaves of crisp and warm bread were grabbed from the basket on the counter and brought to the table to be enjoyed with some additions. Chatter occupied the table for a long time, preventing anyone’s appetite from taking over. One loaf was finally removed and broken, finally enjoyed by the table. After some more chatter, the two remaining loaves were taken by one of the diners as the diner exited the bakery. The dirt paths outside had the footsteps of the crowds surrounding. It was by no means an eventful day, but the crowds were gathered as usual, going about their daily business.

The diner stumbled and accidentally dropped one of the loaves. He looked sadly at the wasted bread, but continued on, leaving it in the street. The foot traffic around the loaf moved on as the various people in the kingdom continued on their way. A group of servants walked by in crisp, white uniforms. The group was not large, made up of only four servants and one head. One of them, holding a platter of loaves of bread, stumbled in close to the same place as the diner had stumbled earlier, dropping several loaves. He steadied himself and, checking behind him, frantically began to pick up the fallen loaves, accidentally picking up the dropped loaf, not quite dusty despite the traffic passing around it. Checking that all loaves were balanced, the servant rushed to join the tail of the servant group, carefully checking the ground before each of his steps before he took them.

The group of servants continued to the castle in the center of the small kingdom, and stopped in front of a large wooden door. The head servant instructed them to wait until she returned with the all clear. She entered the castle to verify some instructions with the king, leaving the remaining servants to wait outside.

Just then, a loud boom echoed outside the kingdom walls. All of the servants jumped and looked around frantically for the source. A few loaves of bread fell to the ground, but the servant left them, distracted by the sound. It was soon followed by another boom, but this one could be traced to the large wooden gates of the north wall of the kingdom. This sent the servants into a frenzy as well as causing a panic of many around the kingdom. The panic increased as the warning bells began to frantically ring, filling the air with loud booms and ringing bells, soon adding a clash of weaponry as the soldiers rushed to arm themselves from armories near the gates. The booms continued for a while as arrows were fired from the top of the walls, and a roar of voices, metal, and arrows being fired became louder outside of the gates.

Soon after, the doors were thrown open as a battering ram became visible in the dust. A wave of attacking soldiers began to rush in as people ran around in a panic. The guards moved forwards to meet them as a clash of weapons began to rise. The servants, who had long since run, had left behind the trays they were carrying. A cloaked girl ran up to the castle gates and tried to open them unsuccessfully. Looking around, she pressed her ear against the wall. Hearing approaching footsteps and alarmed chatter, she stepped back. Seeing the abandoned food, took a small leather bottle out of her cloak and poured some of the contents onto the loaves of bread before dashing away into the kingdom. The doors were thrown open by the king as he exited, followed by the head servant and head of guard, the three of whom had seemingly been urgently discussing the situation. They glanced briefly at the fallen food, but moved along to the site of the battle.

12

“Dniwer,” Illustration by [REDACTED] Bread

A few moments later, a soldier dressed in dark green-marked armor, just the same as the attackers, came around the corner of the building, carrying a large bag filled with food, gold, and random trinkets from the kingdom. He looked at the fallen meals, arranged to be fit for a royal feast, and grinned. He covered a couple of the trays with their fallen lids and put them in the bag, ending with the tray of bread. Grinning widely at his haul, he ran over to the gates and exited through the edges of the fray. Outside the gates, he ran up to a group of people standing behind the gates, with the opposing king at the center.

“Well? Was this place worth anything?” the king asked, gesturing for him to reveal his haul. The soldier opened the bag and brought out some trinkets and gold, also taking and opening the tray of bread.

“You would not believe how rich this place is! They have been sitting and trading here for a century and are practically swimming in gold at this point!” he blurted excitedly.

The king reached over to pick up one of the trinkets and examined it, his eyebrows raising with surprise. Grabbing another trinket, he reached over to the tray of bread and grabbed one, taking a bite. Almost immediately, the king began to choke. He doubled over, clutching at his throat. The members of the group moved closer to help, but he collapsed in only seconds. One member turned to the soldier.

“You did this!” he yelled. A horn was blown, and the sound was echoed by many other horns around the walls. Soldiers began to pour out of the gates, being pursued by the red-clad soldiers of the kingdom. Horses were mounted and a quick but haphazard retreat was called, and the siege withdrew to the forests surrounding the kingdom. A cheer erupted from inside the castle as bells began to ring again, signaling a victory. The tray of bread lay outside with the remaining treasures as the gates closed against the darkening sky.

13

“Drawing Fire,” Illustration by [REDACTED]

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Midnight Writers April-May 2023