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Willie Charles "Bucky" Ceasar,Jr. It happened on Benning Road, Southeast. It always, was a dangerous place. My brother, Bucky, went home to change his clothes and then looked for our 18-year-old cousin on the street. He walked across the street. He did not know where our cousin was. He did not look back to see someone standing behind him. Someone put a gun to Bucky's head and shot him. No one knows who did it, but the police are still looking for the murderer. We do not know why he was shot. He did nothing.
my brother's grave, everyone cried again. On Sunday, September 6th, I did nothing. I slept and slept to keep myself cool. Bucky, Goodbye, and I love you. I will always remember you. Your sister, Lakreisha Aaron
Bucky got shot on August 28, 1992. He was 20 years old on February 14th. He grew up in Washington, D.C. He had two kids: Brittiany Powell, who is 3 years old, and Stephon Ceasar, who is 2 years old. He had a: girl friend. Her name is Bridgette Powell, and she is 20 years old. Bucky had a lot of friends in D.C. and in Maryland. He and his friends had a great time together. He always had fun with his friends. He made his friends and family happy. But, now his friends and family feel sad that he is gone and can't stand it without him. He was loved by everybody. He loved to meet a lot of people. He helped, loved, and cared about his friends and family. Now his two kids feel sad that their daddy is gone. Brittiany knows her boyfriend is gone. Stephon doesn't understand; he is only 2 years old. On the day my brother died, Bucky just went over to my mother's house, and he went to see Grandma who was going on a vacation from Texas to Mexico. Bucky stayed for a little while, and talked with my relatives. He then took his son back home to his girlfriend's house. He said that he would come back to stay with Grandma. It was okay with Grandma. My brother and I were very close. He would buy me some clothes and shoes. I can't live without my brother. He really loved the family very much.
Funeral I watched my grandfather lowered lowered lowered. I miss him, I love him. Me and my grandfather playing, singing, and dancing. Now he is dead. As I kiss his cold lips I need to stop and listen. God gave me a grandfather with a heart of gold, a jeweled crown. -Mervin Primeaux
On September 5th, Saturday morning, the family dressed up for the funeral. Everyone set up in a line. Everyone arrived at the funeral home at 9 a.m. It was a very big funeral. Bucky's friends were there. They cried and yelled hard. After the funeral was finished, everyone got in their cars and made a line again. We went to Bucky's grave. It took a long time to get there because we all drove slowly. It was a very long way to my brother's grave. At
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Expensive Confusion
Why are mortals on mounted jeeps Cannons and missiles • Weapons targeted Midnight and daytime at all times Fired on the towns. What crime have the people committed? Does someone get paid For the dead and the wounded? Is the flow of their blood Turned into a mineral gold?
icannotstandconfusion perplexitychaoscommotion iliveinaworldofconfusion tumultpandemoniumdisorder andiyearnforaworldof clarity a n d 1 u c i d i t y. -Lauren Teruel
-Danele Williams
Alone Hearing school All ears work but mine. Hearing teachers, Fast moving lips and mouths. I miss most of everything. -Ned Patterson
-Ying Bei Chen
Pencil and Color Pencil Drawing
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In Pieces The puzzle together I pieced, An uncountable number of pieces, With an infinite amount of shapes and sizes. An hour, minute, or even a second in a piece.
To be different in races in a world of sameness is the ultimate goal.
Piece by piece, Another piece was a thought, action, or words I had uttered one time or another. My task was clear.
Our world has been made in very small pieces in a sea of faces.
Piece by piece, Individual parts of my life were matching. I was anxious to see the product it would yield. The last few pieces fell into place. I trembled At the hideous action, A horrible thought, A wasted moment culminating into a big picture. Piece by piece, Desperately I attempted to Rearrange, move, change The pieces in such a way That a vastly different story Could be told. None of the pieces would fit Anywhere else. Pounding my fist into the table, Scattering the puzzle pieces, I buried my head in my hands, With thoughts of what I had done.
You tend to stand up by your thoughts that have been programmed in your own designed mind with the master key to your future. But you go against everything and ridicule, but you would rarely listen. I know you are my good friend but it ain't as easy as you think it is to follow you like a map, but sadly it could lead to frustration, depression, and lost love. -Rebecca Mitchell
-Margie English
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The Paint There sits a young girl in her beautifully made, soft pink dress. Her dress fits perfectly, hanging loosely right by her knees. Her hair relaxes on her shoulders, the auburn hair reflects the sunlight shining in from the window.
Her thin, long fingers lift gracefully as she picks up a paint brush. She closes her eyes, showing the strong high cheek bones. Her face is full of beauty, the tanned skin so smooth. Slowly she opens her eyes and faces a large white canvas.
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"Ahh, it shall be beautiful," she whispers gently. She places her thin brush in red paint, the color is dark and deep, like blood. Her fingers hold the . brush, her hand automatically flows across the canvas. As the paint in the brush fades away, she quickly gets more. As time passes, the girl stands up, her eyes fixed seriously at the completed canvas. "It is beautiful, indeed." She sighs.
-Maureen Yates
Staff Picture First row - Sponsors: Ms. Luanne Ward and Ms. Rae Johnson 2nd row - Editor in Chief: Chris Cowden 3rd row - Lucinda Baugh, Abby Strauss 4th row - Tiffany Green, Tara Ann Duboski, Hildur Johansdottir 5th row - Wui Yu Chu, Abbey Drigot, Margie English 6th row - Anna Kim, Katie Drigot, Scott Mohan Last row - Alex Long and Jessica Dalton In absentia - Ms. Lynn Stirling, sponsor; Ben Moore, Jesse Thomas, Emily Muns
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