March 2021
Midnight Writers
Table of Contents
Cover: “venti,” an illustration by shremp This Page: “DOKJA,” an illustration by Cupid Page 3: Ask Aphro & Dite
• A senior wants help getting through second semester • Someone wants to find gold
The Hues of Blue
• Blue recalls a recent roadtrip
Monthly Otaku Column
• Aya talks about her inspiration for this month
Page 4:
“The Call of the Siren,” a story by The Midnight Raven “King of the Eastern Seas,” an illustration by Bleach Lord
Page 5:
“The Call of the Siren,” continued “Dreaming of the Dark,” a story by Anonymous “First Watercolor Still Life Ever,” an illustration by Aya Hatashima
Page 6:
“Re: Classes,” a story by The Wine Merchant “Apple,” a photograph by The Calico Cat “Rainbows are very gay but also so am I so I can make this joke don’t cancel me for this I like the women please twitter I’m not a Bad Person I’m just very gay and also I forgot about this until like 11:54 when Annie decided to harass me about it so my default is writing about how gay I am y’all should be used to this by now let’s be honest,” a poem by Calliope
Page 7:
“Flight of Spring,” a story by Blue Serendipity “Fairy Circle,” a manga by Aya Hatashima
Page 8:
“Charmed,” a story by Halimede “Musa from Winx Club is my Idol,” an illustration by Cupid
Page 9:
2
“I don’t actually know anything about Genshin I just shit on it because a lot of my friends like it and I can judge them for it and also the memes make it worth it. So have my rant about how much Starbucks cup sizing makes me wanna fight someone and I’m just now realizing I have to get up in like four hours for work I will cry,” a rant by Calliope
“venti venti,” an illustration by shremp “Haters Gonna Hate,” a rant by The Wine Merchant
Page 10:
“Please Don’t Take This Seriously It’s a Joke,” a story by yxa “venti but he hopped into sk8 the infinity and stole miya chinens look or just venti as miya from sk8,” an illustration by shremp
Page 11:
Chasing Gold,” a poem by Lola “Dancing Leprechauns,” a poem by Lola “Golden,” a photograph by The Calico Cat “haikus in r a i n b o w,” a poem by Vérité
Page 12:
“Little Duck,” a poem by The Midnight Raven “Holding onto a Thread,” a poem by Luna “Brown Bear Brown Bear,” a photograph by The Wine Merchant
Page 13:
“Adelaide (6),” a story by Blue Serendipity “The Sun Shines,” a photograph by Aya Hatashima
Page 14:
“Adelaide (6),” continued “London Bridge is Blue,” a photograph by The Wine Merchant
Ask Aphro & Dite Dear Aphro,
The Hues of Blue
Somehow, I always end up picking where my How do I get through these last two quarters family goes for vacation. Being in love with of the year? both Disney and the beach, we end up driving down to Florida every year. Yes, drive. It’s Yours, Senioritis about a 14-hour ride! You’d think being stuck Dear Senioritis, inside a car for so long is unbearable, but it’s If you’re currently failing, just know you’re actually something I look forward to. Waknot alone. There are many seniors who are ing up before the sunrises with the exciting also barely holding onto passing grades (and some with failing ones...). If this stresses you promise of fun, the calming peacefulness of out, just know that your grades probably don’t an uncrowded highway at sunrise, and lots of need to be outstanding. Just do what you can road trip snacks. I’ve found many different ways to entertain myself over the years, from and try to get back on top of things! Everything’s difficult right now with Covid, virtual various different music playlists and podcasts vs. in-person school, and personal issues. Your to games and activities with my sisters. But every single year, something happens at the high school grades matter to an extent, but it border of Georgia and Florida. One year it will not alter the course of your life as much was a jam so bad my family and I ended up as you believe it will. At the end of the day, just do your best and try to enjot your last bit walking around in the middle of the highway for an hour. Another year, it was a crashed of high school! car that ended up erupting in flames just as With love, Aphro we drove by. During my family’s most recent trip, however, I witnessed one of the scariest Dear Dite, accidents in my life. As we were driving out Is there gold at the end of the rainbow? of Florida, the car ahead of us crashed into the Yours, A Gold Lover car ahead of them. Now, a crash on a normal Darling Gold Lover, Literally speaking, no, there is no gold at the street is already horrific. But on a highway... end of the rainbow. After all, rainbows appear The car that was hit slammed against the median strip, forcing the front of the car straight so often all around the world. There’s no up in the air and sending metal flying everyway there would be gold at the end of each where. I felt like the car had been suspended one. And how would you know which end to vertically in the air for hours before it came seach? But the idea of gold being at the the crashing down on the grass. That image will end of a rainbow is a good metaphor for life. forever be ingrained in my mind. There was It takes effort, time, and dedication to chase debris everywhere. Drive safe kids, you never after a rainbow and find the end. It also takes want to be in a situation like that. effort, time, and dedication to achieve your goals. If you really are in search of gold, I suggest finding a different rainbow to chase. With love, Dite
issuu.com/midnightwriters wchs.midnightwriters@gmail.com
Monthly Otaku Column
Happy 1 year anniversary of online learning! (wry smile) I feel like I’ve been in my room forever and I can’t help but wonder when this will end for all of us. Anyways, this month’s theme was fairies so I drew a manga about fairy circles. I don’t have much knowledge about fairies aside from Tinkerbell from Disney, so I was fascinated to learn about ancient legends this month. The dialogue I included was from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream and although I recall this original line was from a cheerful scene, I included this in this manga to give an eerie tone. I used many Irish paintings as a reference this month. Out of all these mythological paintings, I like Stephen Reid’s prints the best. The light, pastel warm colors feel organic and his unique style makes me wander off to the distance every time I look at his prints. I’ve also been enjoying listening to Celtic Woman’s Tír na nÓg because of the legend behind it. The tale of Oisín and Niamh reminds me of a similar tale in Japan (Legend of Urashima) and it interests me how humanities have been dreaming of the land of eternal youth. I remember clearly all of the Japanese mythology I read in picture books when I was little. And I loved reading English fairy tales as equally as Japanese books and when I look back at them, I noticed how detailed the pictures in these books were. No wonder I loved reading picture books over novels for the longest time! Maybe this is the origin of why I loved drawing- because I love reading stories with pictures and imagining visually beyond words.
Special thanks to Sra. Steele, Blue Serendipity, Aya Hatashima, The Calico Cat, Calliope, Bleach Lord, The Midnight Raven, Cupid, and Vérité. 3
The Call of the Siren
“King of the Eastern Sea,” Illustration by Bleach Lord
By The Midnight Raven
I felt the cold rush of water surrounding me, the ocean waves pushing me farther under. I had closed my eyes after the impact, squeezing them shut against the prick of saltwater, but as I sank, down and down, further and further, I pried them open. My vision was blurred, but as I squinted against the haze, I could see the shining crescent of the moon above the roaring waters. I can hear them calling to me. My lungs screamed for air and all I wanted was to swim up, but the waves swirled too quickly and I had fallen too hard. I could see the faint sight of wooden planks floating around me, sinking as helplessly as I did. I had walked across that wood just minutes before, those plunging planks making up the rough decks of “The Wrath Of Thetis.” It would just be a short trip, she had said. Just over to the island of Kefalonia, it won’t be long, she had said. So we ate dates and drank spiced wine, looking up at the constellations as we forged through the waves. It won’t be long. I can hear them calling to me. My throat burned, burned with the heaviness of salt and the need for air. The already hazy world grew even more blurred around me. It won’t be long, my mother had said. Just a short trip to Kefalonia, to the beaches, to get some sun on your skin. To Kefalonia to brighten my pale arms and shoulders, to look like the perfect, sun-kissed bride. A wedding around the corner, a trip to Kefolina, it won’t be too long. This wood and I were going to float to the bottom of the sea, to the sandy floors, forever forgotten under the waves. The water swirled around my head, making my hair spread around me in a black halo. Far to the right, I saw the figurehead of “The Wrath of Thetis” sinking down, the goddess herself with her dark wooden hair that was once the binding between her and the ship. A wedding around the corner, never be too uncompromising, too powerful, too loud, mother always said. Mother, I did you well. Mother, when the ship hit the rocks I didn’t even scream. I can hear them calling to me. 4
I don’t know where she had fallen, or where the rest of
the crew had gone, but I was alone under that sea, with only the wreckage to keep me company with my last moments. The ship had split in two, Mother had fallen first, I had tried to hold on. But my hands slipped, slipped with the rain and my own weakness, my inability to hold on. We had all fallen then, but I was the only one here, sinking under the waves. My throat still cried out, begged for the sweet taste of air, but my eyes stayed open, my heart stayed beating. Why did my eyes stay open, why did my heart stay beating? It had been far too long, far too long. I can hear them calling to me. It started as I had hit the waves, that shrill call, that quiet song. They beckoned me to fall. I didn’t have a choice, so I did. I sunk and I sunk, lifeless as the wood, letting the water push me down. Their whispers echoed in my ear, it was as if I could feel the brush of their skin across my own. I can hear them calling to me. Suddenly, I felt the air rush back to my lungs, but I hadn’t risen to the surface, I stayed far under. But I could breathe, breathe just as I could above.
“Odessa.” They whispered in my ear. Their bodies I could not see, but their voices rang true, the sirens who had lured “The Wrath of Thetis” to its doom. The crew was supposed to blot their ears, to block out any siren song, but one man had lied, one man had heard. When he jumped, to be with that honeyed sound, everyone looked his way. The rain pelting down had blocked out the sight of that nearby rock. We only looked back, we only saw when it was too late. I can hear them calling to me. “Odessa, Odessa. You could be one of us. Just open your throat and sing.” They said. I could be one of them, a siren, the ones who lure those under the waves. A bringer of a sweet song, then the sweet release of death.
moon glinting above, I stayed stagnant in the waters that had once pushed me down. It won’t be long, mother had said. Now, it was an eternity. “Is death on the other end?” I asked softly to those hidden creatures of the waves. I didn’t need their response, of a slinking yes, I already knew the answer when I spoke. Death or death. The death of myself or the death of others. Never be too uncompromising, too powerful, too loud, mother always said. Mother, I had always done you well, but now you will never know if I have failed. I can hear them calling to me. I opened my lips, my mind swirling with the waves, and I opened my throat to sing.
I saw Thetis’ figurehead sinking lower, I saw the crescent
Dreaming of the Dark By Anonymous
The sound of metal crunching screeched in her ears and hammered at her brain. In front of her, she heard screaming. In the driver’s seat was a man with strawberry blonde hair the same shade as Rena’s. In the passenger’s seat was a woman with blonde curly hair. She clutched onto the man’s hand tightly as the windshield shattered. “Adrien!” she screamed. The man was ripped out of the car, leaving nothing but blood behind. Rena wanted to cry and run to him, but found herself mute and restrained by a car seat. Looking down, she found herself in the body of a toddler. The woman turned around and began frantically crawling over the gearstick toward her. Her eyes were wide terrified as she reached a bloody hand toward Rena.
“Come on baby,” whimpered the woman. She fumbled with the car seat lock, her actions illuminated briefly by a bright flash of lightning. It was so loud, so dark, so bright, so wet, and so frightening that it all crashed together and formed a blurred mess. The restraints around Rena disappeared, and she felt herself get picked up. Running. They were running. Rena shook in the woman’s arms as they rushed down the empty tunnel. The woman’s footsteps were painfully loud as the sound echoed all around them. Dread pinched and pulled at her stomach. There was no way they were going to make it. The woman was failing to choke down her sobs, and blood dripped down from her cheek onto Rena’s face as if they were tears. Suddenly they heard sirens. It was muffled against the thundering storm and bellowing moans of the wind, but Rena could recognize that sound from anywhere. “We’re almost there baby, it’s ok,” said the woman, relief evident in her voice. Rena turned her head and looked at the end of the tunnel. Tiny red and blue lights flickered brighter and brighter as they got closer. Rena’s heart lodged into her throat. Help. But the sirens and lights only served as a distraction. As the woman ran the last 50 feet of the tunnel, something grabbed her legs.
“First Watercolor Still Life Ever,” Illustration by Aya Hatashima
“No!” screamed the woman, hugging Rena tightly against her chest. They hit the ground with a thud. Rena caught sight of a tall black shadow looming above them before she found herself rolling across the pavement. The woman had pushed her as far ahead as she could. “Run! Run!”
5
Re: Classes
“Apple,” Photograph by The Calico Cat
The Wine Merchant Dear Ms. Thistle, There was a soft rustle next to my ears. A slight pressure against my right shoulder. I turned my head and there was a person, no taller than my index finger, swinging their legs and wearing a curious look. Dressed in clashing chaotic purples and mischievous reds, they tilted their head and smiled at me. “Who are you?” The creature just giggled again and twirled the messy curls atop their head. “What do you want?” I asked again. They finally replied, but it was a high pitched chirp that rang through my ear. “I am a fairy,” they giggled. Startled, I glanced at the space behind their shoulders, and sure enough there were a pair of sheer translucent wings. Practically invisible. The fairy sighed and swung its legs wider, playfully teetering on my shoulder now. “I don’t want to work,” they pouted at me, “But I have to.” Intrigued, I asked, “What is it that you do?” Another silly smile, one that had a menacing undertone. “I make people give up their work and their life. I make them lay stone-faced on the ground, unable to lift a finger towards their pride and joys. They call me the devil.” That day, I was visited by Patty the Procrastination Fairy. As a result, I ended up suffering from an evil curse that caused me to end up with the grades I have today. Please consider letting me pass high school. Thank you. Sincerely, 6
Wine Merchant
Rainbows are very gay but also so am I so I can make this joke don’t cancel me for this I like the women please twitter I’m not a Bad Person I’m just very gay and also I forgot about this until like 11:54 when Annie decided to harass me about it so my default is writing about how gay I am y’all should be used to this by now let’s be honest By Calliope Up in the bright sky A symbol and a display Rainbows are very gay
Flight of Spring
By Blue Serendiptiy
settled in.
A kaleidoscope of bright sun rays and dark shadows littered the forest floor at noon. They were disorienting to the careless human eye, and often concealed little gray gnomes hobbling around beside the path. Should attention be drawn to them, it tended to be the result of a young gnome accidentally stepping on a twig rather than their hasty movements. Humans were quite blind to the true nature of oak forests.
It was truly a shame that such a vast blue world went unseen. In the early mornings birds would perch on the lower branches after their breakfast, singing cheerily of the sky and its unrestrained freedom. Below them the gnomes would dream wistfully of flight as they collected mushrooms and berries. Nymphs would clambour as high as they could on their trees in a futile effort to see. The elves would ponder curiously as they mended their clothing, wondering if they should risk the winter chill for a sight of the sky.
Nearly 60 feet up in the air, a lush canopy shielded the world below. Occasionally the tree nymphs caught glances of the cerulean blue sky whenever they craned their heads at just the right angles. Other creatures who weren’t as lucky as the nymphs settled for admiring the glittering gradient of green. Blue was a rare color for the woodland-folk, one that they really only saw at the end of autumn and the beginning of spring. But even then the skys seemed tainted with the looming gray clouds of winter. Not even the elves wanted to leave the warmths of their homes once first frost
But up in the green canopy of the oak forest lived beings who enjoyed the gift of both land and air. With small iridescent wings and tiny bodies, fairies of all sorts of colors fluttered in the bright blue sky. A cool spring breeze twirled them through the air and carried them from place to place. Dipping down below the canopy, they carried with them fluffy white dandelion seeds. The woodland creatures watched in awe as spring snow fell around them. With hopeful eyes and longing sighs, they caught a seed in their hands and wished for the sky. “Fairy Circle,” manga by Aya Hatashima (Read from Right to Left)
7
Charmed
fit for the Queen herself…” she began to murmur, words heavy with the weight of old magic, all while casting me looks of complete and utter malice.
Flicking my wrist, I extinguished the match and watched the candle’s flame fall into an easy rhythm. The candle itself was a lively turquoise color with intricate engravings dotting the base. Our very own family faerie, contained in that miniscule light. Its own little miracle, in a way. Not that this household had seen many of those in the last ten years.
When she finished at last, a shimmering silver gown lay on the bedside, paired with rather uncomfortable-looking glass slippers.
By Halimede
I felt the presence behind me before I saw it. “I serve the lady of the household, servant girl. You are not the lady of the household.” Her voice was raspy and muted, one I hadn’t heard in years. I turned to face my faerie godmother for the first time in a decade. Her figure was smokey and blurred, barely a silhouette against the wall. Her features constantly shifted, like water bubbling to the side of the stream. Her scowl was the one thing clear enough to make out. “No,” I said simply. “You serve the family of the household. I am the daughter of Lord Eryk Triston by blood. I am a part of this family, which means you serve me.” If possible, her scowl set even deeper. She struggled, for a minute, to find a falsehood in my statement, desperate to avoid serving the one person in this house she could consider below her. There was nothing, of course. I’d made sure to get around all the necessary loopholes. She hissed and bowed her head to begin the formalities. “I am loyal to the Triston family. Your wish is my command. What is it that you require?” “You will enchant me an outfit suitable for the King’s grand ball.” I enunciated each word slowly as I walked towards her. “It will be bewitched so that no one at the ball will recognize me . . .except for her Highness, Princess Charliene.” I could just barely make out her eyes widen in shock. Nonetheless, I continued, “You will also prepare a coach, so that I may arrive at the ball unnoticed and on time.” “A gown of silk to mask your soul from those you know; shoes of glass so her Highness can see past it all; a disguise 8
“You devil,” I muttered, shooting her a glare. “You made them heels. I’ll be lucky to last an hour.” “I can’t help it if you don’t give me the proper instructions,” she said with utter condescension. I rolled my eyes and put them on anyways, letting my glance rest on the oddly shaped carriage outside. Well. She’d certainly gotten creative with materials, hadn’t she? “Oh,” I said, turning back to face her. “One more thing. You are forbidden from mentioning this encounter to anyone else.” Her form flickered, but I knew I was safe. She couldn’t disobey direct orders. I blew out the candle gently, and she vanished with it. It’d be fine, I told myself. I’d just need to be discreet, and, well-I couldn’t turn down an invitation from the Princess, now could I? “Musa from Winx Club is my Idol,” Illustration by Cupid
“venti venti,” Illustratiion by shremp I don’t actually know anything about Genshin I just shit on it because a lot of my friends like it and I can judge them for it and also the memes make it worth it. So have my rant about how much Starbucks cup sizing makes me wanna fight someone and I’m just now realizing I have to get up in Haters Gonna Hate like four hours for work I By The Wine Merchant will cry
By Calliope
This one isn’t my fault I warned y’all last meeting that you would get a rant so here it is. Y’all picked Venti because you are all Genshin fans. I could do a whole separate rant judging y’all for that but I digress. However, I enjoy being contrary so instead I’m turning this into a rant about Starbucks. Why do we name our cups the way we do it doesn’t make any sense. Like for hot cups, sure a venti is 20 ounces, that makes sense. But for cold drinks it’s 26 ounces??? Like what? Why? Why would you do this to me? I can’t tell you all how many times I’ve been trying to explain our cup sizes to some old a** boomer and they get mad at me for the discrepancy like buddy I don’t understand it either please leave me alone. And that’s another thing, the 26 ounce ice cups are like so low quality I’ll be making a huge a** frap and it looks nice and then I’m trying to put the cap on and the thing just collapses and spills all over the bar. Every time it happens I just stand there, defeated until someone comes and cleans it up for me because holy sh** I can’t stand it. There’s so much more I could say about this but it was due two minutes ago and honestly I’m just more mad that a god d*** Genshin theme made it through the selection process. Y’all disappoint me.
Once in a while, I come across a particular figure in my travels. These are the sorts who look at life as one would a tool or a piece of machinery: with absolute practicality and little to no appreciation for the beautiful things in life. One day, I hope to be able to bring this person to acknowledge beauty. I hope to be able to show them some brooks running next to a large unfurling oak tree. I hope to be able to sit and chat with them, among the glowing dandelions and the spinning orange petals of the windwheels. Once we have exhausted our voices, we can lie under the wide canopy and sleep to the strum of the lyre. Then when all is settled, we can head back to the town which flourishes with lights and soft chatter of people. We will walk past the girl selling flowers with a cheery smile and breathe in the mouth watering scent of a sticky honey roast in the oven. It will just be me and you, running around in this world made for us. The sun finally sets, but the lights only burn brighter and the taverns only seem louder. We walk into one, nestled into the corner of town. Simple but rambunctious, and we revel in the liveness of it. It is alive and breathing, and we are here to take in the energy all around us. The world may be asleep, but we still play. We drink grape juice, and we drink to freedom and adventures. We drink to play games and gambling with our dreams. We drink to the ass of the fiery-headed bartender tending behind the countertop. So play Genshin, eh?
9
Please Don’t Take This Seriously It’s a Joke By yxa
One of the perks of being the Anemo archeon was that Venti could look so cool while skating. Bennett would always mention that he never understood how it would appear that Venti was floating over his board. Little did the young boy know that he was actually floating over his board. Venti’s skills were unlimited when it came to his tricks due to the fact he could always just keep himself in the air and didn’t have to worry about wiping out. It came quite in handy when trying out new tricks and tactics. Dedicicing to follow his usual routine or doing whatever he wants as long as he can finish his day with a cider in his hand, enjoying the view of a gorgeous meadow. His first stop was to see kaeya to grab his homework from the previous day from him. The Knights of Favonius greeted him, knowing to let the bard do as he pleases. Afterwards he chose to go to the skatepark and practice a bit on his ollies. When he reached the park he had spent
some time going down various ramp sizes, slowly building his way to the highest and steepest one. Placing his weight on his back leg, keeping his other light against the board hanging off the edge. He wasn’t afraid anymore of the height but his heart betrayed him every time, slowly speeding up until he took the time to calm it. Before he knew it, his board was reaching the end of the ramp and would continue rolling until he placed his foot down to stop it. In front of him was an older man, he was a dirty blonde with an awfully familiar face. “Hey! Nice job there, kid. You made that seem like that was a simple feat.” The older man chuckled, extending his hand to Venti as an exchange of greeting. “I’m Tony.” There was something in Venti that clicked when he heard the name but he just simply couldn’t put it together. “I’m Venti. Has anyone told you that you have a very familiar face?” Venti bent down to grab the tail end of his board and pulled it closer to his side. Tony smiled down at him, standing at least a foot taller than the boy. The elder laughed full out this time, “Yes countless people have actually. I guess I just have one of those faces. Well I have to head out, my kids will be home soon. See ya later, Venti.” With that the man turned around and instantaneously grabbed his phone from his pocket. Venti would continue to ponder where he knew the man’s face from. He continued to practice until the sun came down and he packed up and started heading back to the city of Mondstat. He aimlessly walks around the city, enjoying the sounds of his people and the freedom they enjoy. It is not until he slips and falls that he realizes he hadn’t been in his right mind. When his eyes open again, he’s still on the floor looking up at Bennett looking sheepish. He helps Venti up, brushing off the dust from the cobblestone floor. “Hey there Venti! What is going on?” Venti knew people tended to stay away from Bennett in fear of his bad luck but the kid was honorable and a great adventurer, so he often would allow Bennett to accompany him in return for a semblance of friendship.
Benny was going on about something he saw on twitter, trying to show Venti the tweet as well as reading it aloud. “Oh my, I can’t believe there’s still people who don’t know what Tony Hawk looks like, even when it’s like a thing that he tweets out the situations. Can you believe it?” He asks the archon. Venti read over the tweet in front of his face, rereading it over and over again. Shame ran over his face “venti but he hopped into sk8 the infinity and when he faced the young boy. stole miya chinens look or just venti as miya from sk8,” Illustration by shremp
“Benny, that was me.”
Chasing Gold
“Golden,” Photograph by The Calico Cat
By Lola Treasure I
Dream of coins And green dollar bills For they will bring you joy. Who says that Money can’t buy you happiness? Do not invalidate the pure Serotonin That rushes through my veins And pounds in my heart When I splurge on a wish With the riches I earned. Treasure II Look at her gentle cries And innocent eyes. Whose heart wouldn’t melt At the sound of her joyful laugh, And delighted gasp? I hope she knows though She will eventually leave home, She will not have to feel alone.
Dancing Leprechauns By Lola How cruel it is, To dangle hope in front of me And tell me to chase my dreams. There’s gold More than you could ever imagine Just waiting for you At the bottom of the rainbow. But no matter how far I go And how long I run I can never reach the end.
haikus in r a i n b o w By Vérité
i. red today the sun set, and the sky turned red as your veins, heart, and lifeblood ii. orange deft hands peel a few, a fitting afternoon snack for me and for you iii. yellow did you know that bright sunflowers face each other, when they can’t see sun? iv. green there is a sapling, young, brave, oh so determined in the sidewalk’s cracks v. blue the spray in your face and the crashing waves of old filled with tales untold vi. indigo the bird sang today, perched nearby with its bold hues, a tuneful shimmer vii. violet I found one for you kept it pressed between pages it waits as I do 11
By The Midnight Raven
“Brown Bear Brown Bear,” Photograph by The Wine Merchant
Holding onto a Thread By Luna
Spin me around you Hold on tight with both your hands Never let me go Lonliness scares me More than you could imagine Gone is all my hope
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Adelaide (6) By Blue Serendipity It didn’t take long for Adelaide to discover the joy of children’s cartoons. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of the screen ever since I put on Sesame Street after lunch. Now that dinner was being prepared, Laura decided that Adelaide had watched enough TV for one day. Adelaide was not happy. “Maybe try giving her something to draw with?” I suggested. Laura got out some paper and highlighters, but Adelaide completely ignored them. We tried stuffed animals, play-pretend, and anything else we thought would be fun for a kid, but Adelaide refused it all. I was beginning to remember why I disliked kids so much. “Any other ideas?” Laura asked, sighing. She bounced her gently in her arms in an attempt to soothe her. It wasn’t working. “We could just turn the TV back on,” I said, tired. Jane had told us to be patient whenever Adelaide had a temper tantrum, but all the crying and screaming was really beginning to get on my last nerves. Laura sent me a withering look. “That’s like the equivalent of iPad-kid parenting.”
“Well do you have any other ideas?” Laura fell silent. Adelaide, who was wailing a moment ago, was beginning to quieten down. Even though she had tired herself out, I could tell she was feeling cranky and miserable. If we didn’t cheer her up she’d be pretty irritable for the rest of the day. “Do you want to help cook dinner?” Laura suddenly asked, hefting Adelaide up a little. I stared at her incredulously. That was her idea? Put a baby in a kitchen where knives, pots, pans, and the stove was? “What?” I blurted. Laura ignored the look on my face and strolled into the kitchen. I watched as she set Adelaide down in her chair and took out a large bag of flour. “Look, Addie. It’s like snow!” cooed Laura. She scooped a cup of flour out and poured it out on the table dramatically. It caused a cloud of flour to fly up in the air and get everywhere. Much to my surprise, Adelaide giggled. “Snow! Snow!” Adelaide cheered, grabbing at the flour and tossing it up in the air. “You’re in charge of giving her a bath later,” I said, staring at the mess in disbelief. Laura just smiled. “My grandma used to let me make cookies with her when I was little. I remember always playing with the flour,” she explained. I just shook my head and went back to cooking dinner. Personally there was no way
“The Sun Shines<” Photograph by Aya Hatashima
I’d let Adelaide make such a mess, but it made the child happy so I would let it go just this once. By the time dinner was done, there was flour all over the place. It had gotten into Adelaide’s hair, coated her clothes, and was smeared across her face. At one point Laura had used a bit of water to create some dough, so now there were little dough animals placed all over the table. Adelaide seemed to enjoy playing with the dough the most. It made sense; it was like playing with play-doh. And it was less messier than just flour. “Should we clean you up before or after dinner?”
Laura asked as they wiped away all the flour. Adelaide didn’t want to let go of her dough animals, so they played them on the counter for the time being. “She’d end up getting food all over herself, so why not wait until after dinner?” “True,” hummed Laura. And just as I expected, Adelaide did end up getting food all over herself. She treated the spaghetti just like she treated the flour by grabbing it with her hands and pushing it into shapeless piles. Spaghetti sauce splattered all of her clothes and the floor. I had a feeling Continued on Next Page
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I’d have to mop down the entire kitchen once Adelaide was finished. Yet no matter how rowdy and messy she was, I was just glad she was feeling better. I’d choose cleaning twenty spaghetti and flour covered kitchens over a sick baby. “She asleep?” I asked. After everything had calmed down Laura bathed Adelaide and put her to bed while I cleaned everything up. “Yeah,” answered Laura with a yawn. She plopped down on the couch beside me and rested her head on my shoulder. “Luckily all that playing really tired her out.” “Sounds like it tired you out too,” I said teasingly. She rolled her eyes and turned the TV on. I cringed when Sesame Street popped up and quickly switched it to the news. The last thing I wanted was Adelaide waking up because she heard Elmo talking to his pet goldfish. We watched in silence as the news anchors talked about the ongoing blizzard. It was finally dying down so the road would be cleared soon. Two days ago, that would’ve thrilled me. After all, I hated kids. The quicker I got Adelaide out of my hair the better. But now, the idea of an empty guest room sent my stomach churning. Yeah, Adelaide had definitely grown on me. How could anyone not like such a sweet kid? She could be fussy and messy but she
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was so innocent and curious. The dependence I had disliked so much became something I realized I wanted to protect. But once the roads cleared Adelaide would be leaving. What felt like something so far away suddenly felt much too soon. I wondered if there was any way to delay it. Or perhaps, I could convince CPS that Adelaide had a home with Laura and I. After all, whoever Adelaide’s original guardians were had obviously failed. And we had provided Adelaide with protection and care. Perhaps that would be enough for custody? I swallowed a lump in my throat. What if there really was a reasonable explanation for why Adelaide was left in the grocery store? What if the parents were worried sick and continued to hold custody? I didn’t want to take someone’s kid away from them and I hoped Adelaide really did have loving parents, but I couldn’t help but want the worst. “Laura?” I asked hesitantly. “Hm?” she hummed sleepily. I laced my fingers with hers. “If it turns out that Adelaide is an orphan, or that she doesn’t have a home…” I trailed off and squeezed her hand. Laura frowned and tilted her head to look up at me. “What?” “Would you want to adopt Adelaide?” There was a long silence. I
knew that Laura loved kids, but she had never brought up the idea of adopting with me before. Perhaps she just liked babysitting, or perhaps she didn’t feel ready for one. Either way, her silence made me feel uneasy. “That,” said Laura finally speaking, “is the last thing I’ve ever expected you to say.” “That’s fair,” I said, laughing nervously. “I still hate Andrew and I doubt I’d want to walk into an elementary school right now, but I kinda like Adelaide, you know?” “I knew she was growing on you,” said Laura teasingly. “So? You never answered.” “I would love to adopt
her, but do you think that can actually happen?” Laura sat up and frowned. “I mean, we still have no idea what happened to her parents. And I doubt CPS would just let us adopt her just like that.” “I know, but if worst comes to worst and Adelaide doesn’t have a family, we could see what we could do,” I said with as much determination and false confidence I could muster. Laura stared at me with an unreadable expression before sighing and resting her head back onto my shoulder. “Okay. We’ll see what happens.” To Be Continued...
“London Bridge is Blue,” Photograph by The Wine Merchant