Plume- Fall Issue 2018 by Plume

plume

literary arts magazine fall 2018

Plume As a school, we dedicate ourselves to education and culture. We’re doing the same thing people did in centuries past, albeit with different methods. Our goal is to further ourselves and others through the pursuit of knowledge. With that in mind, the name Plume embodies our purpose in full. Before we used pencils and computers, we used quill pens: plumes plucked from the flight feathers of large birds. The plume is a fundamental symbol of our school. It represents both the education we strive to achieve and the mascot that brings us together — we are the Hawks. The feathers of a hawk become the words on a page. The calligraphy of a plume is unmatched in precision and flexibility: so too we strive to embody these traits in our school. Works such as the Magna Carta and Declaration of Independence were created by way of the plume; by following suit with our literary magazine, we’ll be walking in the steps of our ancestors. The plume brings expression. It brings freedom. It brings possibility. It brings us together with the words it forms; its influence sits in the pages we read. - Cairo Gaona

Find a digital copy of this issue of Plume online at issuu.com/plumecpp

Policy Plume is the product of students at Corning-Painted Post High School who devoted their time and effort to create a collaborative work of art. We take pride in providing an open forum in which young writers and artists may express themselves and spread their wings. The submissions in Plume are selected by a committee of student editors who select individual pieces based on style and quality of writing. This committee reserves the right to deny the publication of any submissions if deemed inappropriate. Furthermore, the ideas presented in the publication do not represent the views of the CPPHS faculty or staff, nor the C-PP Area School District. We hope you enjoy our work.

Editors-in-Chief: Natalie Kent Rayna Krise Olivia Losito Designers: Adam Bibalo Noah Goldwin Luke Johnson

Editors: Sydney Crouch Lauren Hill Rebakah Knarr Natasha Matusick

Table of Contents 1 2 3-4 5 6 7-10 11 12 13-14 15-17 18 19 20- 22

23-24 25-29 30 31-34

You Said You Loved Me Late Night Chats With Myself The Faries Scared Stiff This I Believe A Fantastical Twist on The Common Fairytale Colors A Letter That Was Left Unsent Love Is Night Alive The Girl With The Pitch Black Hair Clarity The Faries (Poem) Little Girlâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Revenge Recollection Virtual Boyfriend Writer Of The Month What Lies In The Deep?

Anonymous Vanessa Kelly Megan Slater Olivia Losito Vanessa Kelly Matthew Savoy Natalie Kent Jean R. R. Branson Vanessa Kelly Jolina Farjardo Vanessa Kelly Megan Slater Lucas Hall Elizabeth Hogrefe Rayna Krise Plume Staff Olivia Losito

You Said You Love Me

You saved me You said you loved me Everyday we spent together We went on dates You made me dinner You said you loved me But that’s the thing about you You lied You always did You said you loved me Even when you were with other girls Even when you were drunk Even when you were high You always lied You said you loved me Then you left me For one week Then you said you hadn’t had enough of me You said you loved me When I was on your bed When your hands were on my body When you were in my head You said you loved me The day you took me away from myself But little did I know you didn’t mean it You left the same day You said you loved me That’s the silly part I believed you but Sweet love falls apart You said you loved me But you left me

Anonymous

You started with my friend You held her And kissed her in front of me You said you loved me You said you loved her Then you left her That’s when I tried You said you loved me We started talking in May You held me close throughout everyday

Late Night Chats With Myself By Vanessa Kelly

Do you ever just sit in your room, Staying awake at night and thinking about the future? Thinking happy thoughts, Thinking about your dream life, Your aspirations, your day? Do you ever think about the fact that your opportunities are endless? Yeah right, youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re probably thinking, But the world has so many options. Each person carves their own path, Each person has so much potential. Once a kid in poverty, now a world class politician. Once a small girl, told she could never work, now the first woman in space. A black boy told he would never be enough, now working to serve justice to those who enforce the opposite. Anyone can do the impossible, But the question is: Will you just think of it, or will you do it?

The Fairies Megan Slater

Once upon a time, a little girl made a fairy house. It wasn’t a very well built house mind you; the roof had holes in it and the door didn’t fit quite right, but the little girl was happy with it. She had even sprinkled flowers over it as a final touch. She set it out at the very edges of the forest, and then sat down to wait...and wait and wait and wait. But the fairies never came. By this time her mother was in a bit of a panic, wondering where on earth her inquisitive daughter could be. By the time she had found her, lying down with her face in the grass, the little house was very much falling apart. “What are you doing?” Her mother laughed as her daughter’s grass covered face came up to look at her. “I’m trying to find a fairy!” the little girl cried in frustration, “but they’re not here.” Abruptly, she put her face back in the grass. Her mother smiled and sat down beside her. “What makes you say that?” “Because-zzz…” “Because why?” “Because they haven’t come to my fairy house!” Her mother looked up at the forest. It seemed to loom over them, the tall trees swaying in the breeze, a crisp wind spiraling through them. “Fairies only come out at night,” she said, her words sounding faraway. “Why only at night?” Breaking out of her trance she looked back at her daughter who now sat looking at her with big curious eyes. Her mother bit her lip slightly before looking back at the forest. “Because… because they don’t like going out in the daytime… they’re scared…” “Scared of what?” “Of... of… the tickle monster!” “Ahhh! Ha ha!!!” the little girl squealed as her mother chased her back to the house. “Now wash up for dinner. I’ll be there shortly.” The little girl happily scampered off, her original question forgotten. It was better that way, better that she retained her innocence for a bit longer. Better that she didn’t know the truth. But her being that close to the forest had scared the mother, and she knew she would have to tell her the truth soon. to warn her. But for now, at least, she could stay young. Days passed into months and the summer came and went. Colder weather started to set in and an early frost swept across the land. The little girl’s mother did her best to keep out the cold and keep their little cottage warm, but there was little time to prepare. She had no husband to help her and so she had to do everything herself. Chopping the wood for their fire was in itself a great feat and the frost had destroyed most of their food from the garden. Few times she could she made the miles long trip to the village with her little horse and cart, but the village wasn’t doing very well either. It seemed it wasn’t just their crops that had died and so the prices had gone up. She bought what she could, but she worried it wasn’t enough to last them. As the days passed she felt herself growing weaker and by the time the first snow had hit, she could not even move to get out of bed to her daughter’s horror. The mother’s breaths turned into coughs and her head was hot with fever. Her daughter knew not what to do, but she could tell her mother was dying. “Mommy?” “Mommy?” she cried as her mother stroked her head. “What do I do to make you better?” But her mother did not know. With the town so far away and the snow so deep she knew her daughter could not make it to a doctor’s. And so she did the only thing she could do. She told her stories. She told her about princesses and princes, goblins and dwarfs. She told her about wishes and magic and pixies and trolls. She told her everything she could remember, enriching her child’s already vivid imagination and sending her places to

where her mother was not sick. She told her everything, but the bad. She told her everything… but the things that lurked in the dark. She didn’t tell her about the wolves, she didn’t tell her about the witches and she most certainly didn’t tell her about the fairies. She knew in her mind that she should. She knew in her heart that she had to, but in the end she couldn’t bear to bring herself to do it. She couldn’t bring herself to show her daughter anymore darkness than what she was already experiencing. She should have told her, but she just couldn’t. But she knew what she could do. So one day she wrote a letter. It wasn’t very long, just two short sentences. She flung it outside her window, letting the wind take it away. She knew it would reach them, but she prayed they would respond. As it just so happened her daughter had an idea as well. It was all those stories her mother had told that had done it. After all with so many sweet magical creatures around shouldn’t at least one of them be able to help. And so with resolve in her eyes she buttoned up her coat, well she sort of buttoned up her coat, pulled on her boots, right boot on the left foot, left boot on the right, and set off to find herself a fairy. Remembering the little fairy house she had made months before she excitedly ran to dig it up. But sadly it was no more than a pile of sticks now with no fairy inside. Defeated she looked around uncertain about where else she could look. Where were fairies in the daytime? Eventually her eyes came to rest on the entrance to the forest. She hesitated. Her mother had always said to never under any circumstances go into the forest, but desperate times called for desperate measures. So gathering up her courage she ventured inside. The forest was big and scary. The noises loud and strange. And although she could see her tracks in the snow she worried she would get lost. In fact if she hadn’t been filled with so much desperation she might have turned back. But she was doing this for her mother. She had to save her. For a time though it seemed as if she was walking around in circles, that was until she spotted the flowers. Big beautiful flowers they were. Flowers that she had never seen before all growing strong even in the snow. At once she thought magic. There were pink flowers and yellow flowers, blue flowers and red all angled to the sun, but the ones that caught her eye the most were the closed ones. As she got closer she saw that there were also mushrooms growing in the snow. A whole ring of them which was odd. Strangely she felt an urge to go inside the mushroom ring but she got distracted by a small shaking in one of the closed flowers. Picking it, she pried open the petals best she could with her gloved fingers. It was just enough to see a small glittering fairy inside. Oh what joy. What wonderful joy she felt when she saw that sleeping fairy for she knew in that moment that her mother was saved. Racing back the way she came she flew through the forest hugging tight to the flower and the fairy inside. But night was coming fast and snow was already starting to fall covering her already hard to see tracks. After a while she realized she couldn’t find her way home. It was getting colder. It was getting darker. It was getting scarier. And she was lost. It was about this time that her mother had discovered the same thing. After searching the whole of their small cottage and surveying the backyard it suddenly dawned on her where her sweet little

girl daughter might be. Fear gripped her heart and for a second time seemed to stop before erupting into a flurry of motion. Tearing her coat off the hanger she stumbled outside desperate to find her daughter before it was too late. She managed to get to the edge of the forest on pure desperation alone, but from there it was all downhill, and yet she carried on, calling and calling through the roaring wind until at last she could not even cough or wheeze. Until at last she fell on her knees with exhaustion. Until at last she slept. She slept as the last rays of sunlight disappeared from sight. She slept in a fairy ring. But not for long. It was the Brownie who found her letter. It was the Brownie who saw the signature. At once he remembered the fire. Once upon a time a child wandered into the forest, wandered into a fairies trap and danced the night away. For a time it was fun until the child began to sicken and a fairy began to fear. As the nights dragged on the fairy grew more and more fearful for the child until at last she snuck away, found the parents and told them where to find the child. She told them to come during the day when the fairies would be asleep and take back their child. They did so, but they weren’t alone. They had brought the whole village with them and the village burned the forest. They hunted down the magical creatures and dragged them from their sleep. They cut and slaughtered and burned until finally their hatred was satisfied. The fairy was put on a magical trial and many wished her dead, but the queen solemnly declared that enough blood had been shed and banished her instead. But the fairy could never bring herself to stray too far from the wood so instead turned herself into a human and protected it the best she could. But the magical creatures never forgave her and they never forgot, so when the Brownie read the letter he threw it away. He walked a little ways thinking about the letter until he spotted her child huddled against a tree. Tears had frozen to her cheeks and her breathing was slow and right then and there he knew he couldn’t do it. So against his better judgement the Brownie picked her up and rushed her back to her home. There he was able to revive her with some warm water and tea. He didn’t know about the fairy until it was too late. “Wh-whooo aaaar-re y-youuu?”, the little girl chattered as her mug shook in her hands. “Hush”, the Brownie grunted “I’m here to help you and your mother to no small risk of mine. Now drink up. I took all this time getting you here, I’ll not have all my efforts go to waste. Good. Now where’s your mother. I might as well tend to her while I’m at it.” “She’s in her bedroom. She’s very sick.” At this he grumbled. “Do you think… do you think you can fix her?” “I don’t know,” he said roughly before his eyes softened and he said, “but I’ll try”. Comforted a little, the girl sank back into her chair before she felt a wiggle in her pocket. With joy she sprang up, startling the Brownie so much he fell out of his chair, and rushed into her mother’s room.“Mommy, mommy! You can be all better now cuz I got you a fairy!” She jumped on the bed thinking her mother was there but she wasn’t. “Fairy what did you say about a fairy?” the Brownie cried and scrambled into the room. But the little girl wasn’t listening to him. She was looking for her mother. “Mommy. Where’s mommy?” The little girl cried, but the Brownie didn’t know, but he had a sinking suspicion.

Suddenly the little girl’s pocket started to wiggle. An angry fairy was trying to claw her way out. Finally she managed it, and soared out ready to attack her kidnappers head on. “Where am I?”, she demanded. “Where am I!” Immediately the Brownie jumped into action. With incredible speed he slapped a glass jar on top of her. “How dare you!” screamed the fairy! “How dare you!” “Let me out!” Then she realized who was holding the glass jar. “Brownie!”, she screeched. “And little girl too… why you horrible little trator! When the council hears about this they’ll have your head!” “Never mind that. Do you know what happened to this girl’s mother?” The fairy paused for a moment until her tiny ears picked up her sister’s song. “Ha Ha! She’s right back where she belongs, getting right what she deserves!” she cackled and laughed and the little girl froze in fear. “Now you listen here” the Brownie said shaking the jar. “You tell those fairies it’s either her or you, you got it.” “You lay a hand on me and you’ll be punished.” Just to prove that he’d do it, he shook her harder until at last she got the message. “You’re just like her,” she spit. “Always saving the humans, never your own kind,” she spit again before magically transporting the mother back home. The brownie let the fairy out and she flew back into the arms of her awaiting sisters. During the nights that followed the Brownie nursed the mother back to health. It took a lot of magic, but eventually she was stable once again. He knew it wouldn’t be long now before the fairy council would deal out his punishment, but the more time he spent with the family, the more he realized how happy he was that he did what he did. When the time came, he wasn’t even afraid his punishment would be death. He didn’t care for he knew he had saved two good lives that day, and that he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. In the end the Queen was merciful. She knew that she had to give him some kind of punishment or the fairy folk would never be satisfied, so she exiled him knowing full well he would rather be with these humans than anywhere else. And so he lived out the rest of his days helping the family. The mother never had a day when the lumber wasn’t chopped, and the food wasn’t prepared. The girl always had a magical playmate and the Brownie never lived a day where he wasn’t loved and protected. So despite it all, the family lived happily ever after.

That creak on the stairAn intruder! BEWARE! Lock that door, Over there, In the corner. I’m scared. Pull the coversUp! Up! Pull them over your head! If you stay really still, You might not end up dead! Here it comes, Down the hall, Can you hear it at all? It has red glowing eyes, And it thuds while it crawls. Shut your eyes, Say a prayer, Make a wish, Say goodnight. For I may not see you, ‘Til breaks morning light. So stay safe, Stay sound, Sweet dreams, And sleep tight...

I believe that sunsets heal the soul. The colorful skies cover the plains amidst struggles and beauty, and set my heart a glow. Day in and day out sadness sets upon my face, but I will never be disappointed by the sun. The sun must set for a new day to start, full of opportunities and liveliness. The darkness of the sky represents sadness and the past, morning skies soon follow with the promise of new hopes and a new start. I once had a person enter my life, who I thought would change my life, becoming my best friend, always by my side and making me laugh; but little did I know that this person would change my life for the worse. What started as little arguments turned to deep grudges and abusive comments. They had had a bad day, and it always ended up my fault in their eyes. Each day I fell for the kind smile that had entered my life, but each night I would fall asleep crying from the misery they thrust on my life. I knew there was something wrong that was more than I could help with, but yet I still felt that their problems were all my fault. Maybe it was the late night talks, or the late night cries, but eventually this friendship was forced to come to an end; my happiness was stolen, and their life was at stake. Each night before I went to sleep I would look back on my day and search for an escape from the sad world I was in. Then, I found it: the setting sun. The sunset was my escape, each night it put a hope in me for a better day to come, a more positive outlook on life. I like watching the sunsets alone, clearing my mind and thinking about all the amazing things I have in my life. I was cursed with this experience but it has taught me so much. It has made me a stronger person and has bestowed upon me a strong hope in life. I am now wise beyond my years, and know that no matter what the situation may be, the sun will always rise again.

A Fantastical Twist On The Common Fairytale Matt Savoy

Prologue Once upon a time in the small town of Scottsville, there lived a young woman by the name of Isabella. Isabella was fairly tall for a young woman, nearly as tall as the average man, and she had long, curly hazel hair which fell perfectly upon her shoulders. She was slender yet strong and was very appealing to the eye. Eyes of which hers were a grayish brown like the polished wooden floors of an expensive home. This, coupled with the rich green tinted hazel of her hair and her height made her look like a creation of nature. Like a tall, slender willow tree, with the appearance of age and wisdom even when young. She was 18 and she lived alone on the farm she inherited from her parents. Life on the farm was dull, repetitive, and content. She would tend to the farm animals, go into the nearby town to buy whatever she needed and sell whatever her animals produced, eat alone, and read from one of the books her parents had owned. The only thing that made her life at all more interesting than the other townsfolk was her uncommon beauty and her cat Harrison who was grey and had blue eyes. Her farm sat in a small opening of the forest which was itself in a small valley. The town was just over the top of the hill to the south of her farm but that was the furthest from home she had ever been.

Chapter one One day seven men dressed from head to toe in shiny red, gold and black uniforms rode up to Isabella’s home on equally extravagant horses. The man in the front was on the only white horse, and as Isabella went out to address them he spoke to her. He had news of great importance; and as he spoke Isabella noticed an unfamiliar accent: “The Grand Duke of Savoy wishes to meet you, for he knew your grandparents and when they recently passed away he learned of your location” the man proclaimed. My grandparents? The girl thought. I’ve never known anything about my grandparents. How could they know people like this? “Does this mean you’re taking me away? I must tend to the chores around the farm before I can…” “That will not be an issue ma’am” the man interrupted. “You will likely not be returning here.” “No? Where exactly are you taking me?” she asked. “Why, we are bringing you to the Kingdom of Savoy for that is where the Duke rules”. “But I’ve never heard of that city before.” “It is far, far away from here, so we really must get going

for the Duke is very anxious to meet you.” The Duke of Savoy is anxious to meet ME? This is quite strange. “Might I at least be able to grab a few things to bring with me?” she asked. “Certainly.” Isabella quickly grabbed the three things most dear to her: a sweater from her mother which she had worn nearly every night in the winters when she was alive. The necklace her father had given her before he passed away. It was a thin silver chain which held a locket in the shape of a dove, for her father had always told her when she was young that doves were the animal of love and compassion. Inside the locket Isabella kept a small painting of her parents which had been made in the town. And finally, her favorite pet of all the animals on the farm, her cat. She also decided to bring a few of her favorite books with her, stories of great adventure and poems of love and chaos which she had grown to admire When she returned outside the seven men helped her onto one of the horses and as they rode away she watched her family farm disappear into the trees. Will I ever see any of this again? she wondered. How far away is this Kingdom of Savoy? As the view of her farm was slowly engulfed by the forest she began to wonder if the choice to come was for the best.

Chapter two Soon they came to a harbor in a nearby coastal town. Isabella was astonished at how busy and fast pace the town was. There were ships coming in and out of the docks to pick up and drop off boxes of goods, several booths of people chopping up and scaling fish, merchants trying to sell things to the sailors, there was a pub which was overflowing with drunken sailors and scantily clad women, and masses of people walking around the docks and the street. The man she was with rode straight through all the chaos, ignoring the merchants who tried to sell them fruits and trinkets and they boarded the most incredible ship Isabella had ever seen. It was several times larger than her home and had gold fixtures along its edges as well as three masts which held massive sails. She noticed an insignia on the sails and asked the man who seemed to be the only one to speak to her what it meant. “That is the family crest of the Duke. The lions depict the family’s courage, the red, white, and gold represent military strength, peace, and generosity, and the crown of course represents royalty. The cross in the middle is the flag of the Kingdom.”

So that’s what the Duke’s family is like? she thought. She wondered what a crest of her family would look like. There would probably be a mouse to represent how quaint and unimportant we are; and a cow for being farmers. She then asked how far down the coast they were going and the guard told her, “the kingdom of Savoy is not down the coast. It is across the sea.” Across the sea?! Strange, Isabella thought, only this morning I was tending the animals as I always do and now I am sailing across the vast sea perhaps a thousand times farther than I’ve ever been from my home to meet the Duke of a fancy kingdom. Hopefully he is at least worth meeting. As they left the harbor Isabella finally realized that she may never see any of this, her home, again. The sun was soon setting and she headed to her room. There was a small wardrobe, a bed with a very ornate frame, a small shelf, and a window in the room. She laid down to go to sleep and was amazed at how comfortable the bed was. She had never felt something so comfortably soft. She continued asking herself questions about what was happening and tried to imagine what would be waiting for her and as she thought she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

in front, three behind, and Benedict directly alongside. As the carriage traveled she watched as they passed building after building, each more breathtakingly massive than the last. They went through a city which was much louder and full of people than Scottsville. Isabella noticed bakeries, clothing shops, a blacksmith, trinket sellers, and residential buildings. It reminded her of the port where they had boarded the ship only it lacked the intense smell and chaos.

Chapter three

Chapter four

When she awoke, the guard was waiting outside her room and he told her where the bathrooms and food were. “You are free to go anywhere on the ship with the exception of the captain’s quarters and the kitchen” he told her. The rest of the day was dull and she felt there was nothing to do but watch the water, eat, and read the books she had brought. She did learn however that the guard’s name was Benedict and that he was the highest ranking member of the royal guard aside from the Duke’s personal trainer. When evening finally arrived she returned to her room and slept, expecting nothing more exciting on the rest of the trip. She stayed on the ship for six days, and when she awoke on the seventh she could see that the ship was coming upon land. This made Isabella very relieved for she had begun to miss being able to walk around on steady ground and being able to see more than a handful of spaces. When they landed everyone got off the boat and Isabella was loaded into a beautiful carriage of which she was the only occupant; except, of course, for Harrison. There was an old man in a solid black suit and white gloves driving the carriage with two black horses. The seven men escorted the carriage, three

When the carriage finally stopped and Isabella got out she saw that she was in front of a castle which made the rest of the buildings she had seen on the way seem drab and miniscule in comparison. It’s main door seemed to be at least twenty feet tall and made of solid wood. The structure of the castle was gothic, something Isabella had learned from one of her books, and it had three turrets along the length of each of its sides. The main keep of the castle was very visible from the front gates as it protruded endlessly into the sky with several spires which seemed to reach the clouds. The whole castle was built with beautiful grayish white stones which were in great contrast to the surrounding nature and the neutral buildings in the city. It was almost too large and too gorgeous to comprehend. While Isabella was taking in the castle’s beauty a man suddenly burst through the front doors and came walking toward her. As he came closer she saw that he was more beautiful than any man she had ever seen before. He wore an elegant white suit with black, gold, and red trims and highlights which made him appear quite royal. He was a tall and slender young man with short black curls that adorned his head like a crown. His eyes were a blue as deep and mysterious as the ocean at night, and as Isabella found herself lost in them. He greeted her by saying, “Why hello Miss Isabella. I have waited for your arrival quite intensely and I am thrilled to finally see you. You are assuredly more beautiful than I could have ever expected. And I see you have a cat. He is lovely as well. I definitely see your grandparents in your face; I do quite miss them and I wish to get to know you as I knew them. Please, come with me so I may show you the castle and bring you to your room. Along the way I shall inform you more on why you are here.” At this Isabella remembered where she was and all that he had said came into focus as she responded with “Yes I would quite appreciate that...uhm...your majesty. Thank you.” She was mesmerized by his accent for it seemed to

make him more brutally handsome. As she replied and they began walking the Duke too found himself lost her her unique beauty. He had never seen hazel hair nor a woman with such fierce features. “There is no need to call me your majesty” he said as they entered the courtyard. “My name is James.” They headed into the keep, and whilst they walked through the castle James told her what everything was and explained how they had brought in the glass in the windows from a far away kingdom because they were renowned for their beautiful glass. They walked on and on and she was astonished at the intricate beauty of the interior of the structure. Each room seemed unique and grand in its own way yet they all fit seamlessly together.

Chapter five Finally they reached the room which James indicated to be Isabella’s. As he opened the door he said “I do apologize for I have been quite rude and have kept you wondering as to who I really am. My name is James, as you know, and I am the seventeenth generation Duke of this great Kingdom.” Seventeen generations, she thought, that must be several hundred years. “What do you call your cat?” he asked. “Harrison” she responding plainly. “That is a lovely name. And for you”, he continued, “you are here because I have called for you upon the request of your grandparents. They wished for you to come here when they died so that you could marry me and keep this great Kingdom alive and safe.” Suddenly several questions ran through Isabella’s head. Marry this man? But I’ve barely met him! Keep the kingdom safe? From what? Why did my grandparents think I was needed here? Just who were my grandparents? She finally said, “What am I supposed to protect this place from? This castle seems more than equipped to defend itself. The main wall must be forty feet high.” To which James responded, “Why this castle is in fact well equipped to defend against any army. However that is not our only threat. There is a curse upon my family.” “Like a spell from a witch?” Isabella interrupted. “Not quite. But it is similar. When my grandfather was a young king he fell into the charismatic trance of a great sorceress who planned to marry him then kill him to take the throne for herself. And that is where your grandfather comes into the picture. He

saw the two riding together in the forest one day and he was able to see her for exactly what she was. He saved my grandfather from her and my father brought him into our castle here to live as a trusted advisor as repayment for saving the kingdom. However when the sorceress was revealed she cast a curse on my grandfather. As the curse goes ‘Your lineage shall love thee forever and always. Every second generation my descendant shall return to deceive thee. If thy blood art not married to a true love by the time my descendant arrives thy blood shall fall into my trance and shalt marry my descendant, allowing she to take full control of thine kingdom and kill thy blood. And if thy blood shall resist my descendant shalt set a siege upon thy great castle.’ After reciting this she vanished and hasn’t been seen or heard from since. What this means is that if I do not find a wife which I truly love by the time the sorceress’s descendant arrives I will have no control over marrying her, which she will use to kill me and take full control of the kingdom. And if I do somehow break the spell elsewise, she will attack our castle and it’s warriors with her magic; which we cannot defend. And that, Miss Isabella, is why you are here. Because your grandfather prophesied that his sole granddaughter would become the Kingdom’s great savior. This is also why you do not know who your grandparents are; to protect your lineage your grandparents shipped away their first and only child across the sea so that he would be safe from the sorceress. Your father was adopted, grew up and met your mother, and together they had you. I am bringing you here now because my father has recently passed and I am months from the age of 20. Because of this it was imperative to find you, bring you here and for us to fall in love and be married as soon as possible.” Isabella could hardly believe all that she had taken in. She was to fall in love, be married, become a Duchess, and protect a whole kingdom from the magical curse of a sorceress. As she took everything in James thanked her for coming and being a help to the Kingdom. They then parted ways for the night.

colors by natalie kent he was a chameleon changing all sorts of colors but his favorite color was blue

A Letter That Was Left Unsent To a dear old friend, Hey. I’m talking. Listen, what the hell is going on with you? Ever since I mentioned that I was interested you’ve been acting weird. Yeah, I get it--it was a little awkward at first, it always is. But you know what? When you told me you weren’t into me anymore, I didn’t roll over and pity myself, but rather turned and let out a sigh of relief with the sound of, “thank fucking goodness.” Because guess what, I’m not into you either. And when you said you were trying to be friends--well what do you know, I took you seriously! Because that’s all you’ve ever wanted right? To be respected and taken seriously; well, that’s a two way street. You’d better think long and hard before you respond, because yeah I get it, just another person that you loved, wanted to marry, planned on making a life with. Just another thing you messed up and didn’t feel like cleaning. Just another rusted object that you left behind, fleeing. And I don’t really care if this goes anywhere or not just listen close and hear what I have to say because I really need this outlet, and I don’t like wasting my breath. We used to get along really well, but now whenever I go to speak it’s almost like you tense up, as if I’m about to spit fire in your face or I just ran over your childhood cat. I never lied to you nor have I ever raised my voice or spoken wicked things behind your back or even at all. Sure we all get pissed off every now and again, but who doesn’t? Balancing the good with the bad, thats what its all about. And yeah, things may have gotten a little too good a little too quick, but hey we both know how fun it was. And yeah being “friends” and all is great, even though you talk about things that you don’t even have the slightest clue about, but what you love so much? Oh yeah, respect. So while you’re over there making goo goo eyes at some girl that you haven’t messed up yet, thinking you can have a heart-to-heart with, I’ll be over here with my dear friend reality trying to keep my head above water. Because like I said, you haven’t even the slightest clue. So don’t go marching around spreading words with whatever flavor of bitterness you chose next. I’ll admit it, I miss talking and going on crazy adventures to nowhere with the person I once knew and who claimed to “know me so well.” And the person that I knew would never hurt someone on purpose through petty phrases and harsh tongue. So I’m left here, just a girl trying to outrun the storm. Now let me make my voice loud and clear so that I make sure that you can hear it all the way up there in the clouds; what the hell is going on with you? Sincerely, The one who’s better off. -Jean R. R. Branson

Love

Alive

Is Not

Dark, dark, dark Lit by a spark Deep down in his heart Lonely heart Filled with hope for love Love deeper than what meets the eye Dark, dark, dark Absolutely no spark She has no heart No heart But she plays the part Her heart is cold But his blood is warm Late at night she seeks him Her senses filled to the brim

Late at night he sees her Her gorgeous face He looks her right in the eye As she walks by

She smiles because her senses alert He doesnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t want to get hurt She sees potential He sees her as essential He needs her She needs his blood A thirst so hard to quench He watches her from the bench

She walks Rage in her eyes She asks to sit And he complies She reaches over without a sound He suddenly began to feel bound

His legs were stuck And then it struck The pain from the inside She said she will instruct me And I must abide She made me say I loved her But I did not I was scared out of my mind So I followed her in line She stares in my eyes And I lose my sight Out of fright I scream I lose my mind slowly The world shrinks Around me it closes in

I can not move all I hear is her voice Echoing in my ear I knew it was the end The world goes black, but her eyes go red Piercing me making my body go numb Then I felt the sharp pinch in my neck Warm liquid Spewing out of me And it was over My life was over But was it I will come back I will haunt whoever sits next on the bench Beware, you may be next Donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t rest or you die Love is not alive

Vanessa Kelly

THE

GIRL

WITH THE

PITCH

BLACK HAIR

Jolina Fajardo Once upon a time, there was a very peaceful town in the middle of a thick, green forest of enormous trees that touched the sky. This town was much like any other town with the typical shops of bread and cloth as well as a library with ancient books that had been there since the town was built. All the houses were made from the same wood and all the food from the same farm. All the modest people of this town have never left the town for in between the houses and the forest was a pitch black fence that gleamed in the sunlight and glowed with the moon. There was no gate or even any holes. Nobody knew how or when this fence appeared for nobody had ever asked. For generations, the ingenuous adults told their simple-minded children to never leave the inside of the fence for it was there to keep monstrous creatures out. There were a few who believed it was there to keep people in, but if those people opened their mouths and told of their unique thinking, they would be immediately thrown over the fence and never to be seen again. In the corner of this little town, there was a white house that was much tinier than the rest. It had a garden full of wonderful flowers of pink and blue and an apple tree with fruit the color of roses. In this little house, there lived a wonderful child with a heart as beautiful as her remarkable looks. Unfortunately, no one knew or acknowledged this because many feared the child. Her lovely, curly hair was the same color as the fence that everyone avoided. Once she was born and her mother died at childbirth, her father kept her hidden away in their pleasant, white house. This child became very lonely. The only toys she had were the toys she made herself and the dolls her mother left behind. This girl’s single wish was to to have a single friend. One day, this child was eating a shiny apple from the tree in the garden and was sitting at the wooden table her father built himself. Her blue shorts made the chair squeak every time she moved and her blue shoes skid against the planks of the floor when she swung her legs.Every time an apple piece fell on her violet shirt and every time her pure, white teeth crunched, her father would twitch; he became very annoyed. “Go out to the garden and water the flowers of pink and blue,” he said. “They seemed a little thirsty this morning.” So the girl with the pitch black hair grabbed a cup of water went to out back to the flowers of the most perfect pink and the most bodacious blue. She loved these flowers for they showed the most color to her than anyone in the town. She used these bright flowers to make clothing for her mother’s dolls. She bent down and picked a pretty pink flower when she heard the crunching of leaves underneath someone’s feet. She quickly stuffed the flower into her back pocket.

“I must not let anyone see that I live here or the others will find out who my father is!” the girl thought. She backed up until she startled herself by bumping into the fence the color of her hair. Since the fence was very old and no one cared to tend to it, the part the girl bumped fell, creating a loud smack. Since no one talked to the girl with the pitch black hair, she was never warned of the monstrous creatures outside the fence. “I must fix the fence or father will be angry!” she thought. She tried pulling the fence from the inside, but the fence wouldn’t budge. She decided to try pushing the fence up from the other side of the fence. So, the girl with the pitch black hair did what no one had done for a very long time, and she stepped outside the fence. The trees that touched the sky seemed slightly bigger from that side of the fence. The girl with the pitch black hair became a wee bit frightened. Suddenly, the girl heard a squeaky voice that said, “You’re the girl with the pitch black hair!” She looked around to find the one who spoke, about to apologize for getting out of her house, but she found no one. A look of confusion was planted on her face. “Down here! I’m down here!” shouted the voice. The girl looked down at her feet and found a little gray mouse with a tiny, pink nose and adorable blue eyes that were looking up at her. “You’re the girl with the pitch black hair!” the blue-eyed mouse repeated, which caused the girl to jump in surprise. “The prophecy says that a girl with pitch black hair will destroy the evil prince. Is that you?” The girl with the pitch black hair stared at the blue-eyed mouse as the mouse continued, “I’m pretty sure that’s you. Well, if it is, follow me. I’ll lead you to the evil prince’s castle so you can destroy him.” The adorable, blue-eyed mouse ran into the forest, leaving a path of miniscule footprints. “It can’t hurt to follow the mouse, right? And maybe it’ll be my friend! That would be so fantastic to have a talking mouse as my first friend,” the girl thought. So, the girl with the pitch black hair followed the blue-eyed mouse into the forest of trees that touched the sky. All kinds of plants and animals that the girl had never seen were all around them. At almost every new object, the girl would stop in awe until the mouse pushed her back onto the path. While on the wonderful, winding path towards the prince’s castle, the girl saw a grotesque, green goblin with pointy ears and sharp

teeth between the trees. The girl became a terrified at first, but she soon became curious as to what the goblin was doing and slithered her way between the trees, almost stepping on a chipmunk on her way there. “Where are you going?” the blue-eyed mouse asked while following the girl towards the goblin. The girl didn’t answer and instead appeared in front of the goblin, startling it. “You’re the girl! The girl with the pitch black hair!” The goblin with sharp teeth snarled. “I must take you to the prince in his castle! Wait. Is that the blue-eyed mouse?” “Don’t go with him!” the adorable mouse shouted. “He’s one of the evil prince’s minions!” The girl with pitch black hair gasped. She looked around and found a big stick that had fallen from a crumbling tree. She picked it up and used it to whack the goblin in the head. The goblin fell to the ground with a loud thump, and the blue-eyed mouse smiled. They continued on with their quest towards the prince’s castle, whacking sharp-toothed goblins whenever they saw one. Halfway to the castle, the girl found alluring flowers of pink and blue. “Look little mouse!” she said. “These are the same flowers as those in my backyard.” “Oh no!” the mouse shouted. “Those flowers are poisonous to talking mice! The evil prince made a wicked witch put a spell on all the pink and blue flowers of this forest to kill me!” “Oh! I’m sorry,” the girl responded. “Yes. You don’t want to hurt your cute, new friend,” the mouse said. This made the girl with the pitch black hair very thrilled as they went towards the prince’s castle. When the girl first saw the stunning castle, her eyes widened in fear. The huge, black gate was very threatening with the huge black castle behind it. The only part of the castle that wasn’t black was the railings of the balcony on the fourth floor. “Black is a very dark color. Only someone very evil would make their entire castle black,” the girl with the pitch black hair thought. The blue-eyed mouse and the girl with the pitch black hair slowly opened the gate and ran through the courtyard of silver fountains and silver flowers. They made their way to the prince by whacking all the goblin guards in the head and sneaking through the shadows of the stunning castle hallways that were filled with huge paintings of former royals and horrifying monsters. The closer they got to the prince, the more terrified the girl with the black hair became. They appeared in front of a giant, wooden door when the blue-eyed mouse announced, “I’ll wait here and make sure no goblins come to interrupt you.” “Thanks!” the girl said. She softly opened the door to a huge, black room with many windows and a golden throne near the end. On the throne was a man with a silver crown on his head reading a book made of the leaves of the trees in the forest outside. “The man on the throne isn’t very handsome and his crown looks very sharp. He must be a very evil prince,” the girl with the pitch black hair thought. She closed the door and snuck her way to the prince, jumping from shadow to shadow around the edge of the room. Right before the girl was going to whack the prince with her big stick, the girl tripped, creating a booming thump. The prince looked up with a very funny look of confusion and surprise.

He said, “The girl with the pitch black hair! I can’t believe you’re here! I’m so happy!” “What?” the girl asked with a very confused look on her face. “Why are you happy I’m here? I’m going to destroy you, the evil prince.” “Evil prince? Destroy me? I’m a pretty nice prince, if I do say so myself,” the prince said. “But all the black and dark colors seem so evil. You look evil too!” the girl said. “The prophecy says that I’m supposed to destroy the evil prince.” The prince responded, “I’m sorry if the black looks evil. I just really like the color since it’s the color of the fence that holds the humans. And your hair.” “You like my hair?” the girl whispered, quiet enough that the prince didn’t hear. “And anyway, the prophecy doesn’t say you’re supposed to kill me. It says that you are going to kill the blue-eyed mouse who has been kidnapping children from their homes for hundreds of years,” the prince clarified. “The blue-eyed mouse kidnaps children? It’s hundreds of years old? But it looks so young, and I thought the mouse was my friend,” the girl said and became very sad. “You wish to have a friend? If you kill the blue-eyed mouse, then I promise to become your friend,” the prince said. The girl stared at the prince, wondering what it would be like the have another friend. “Okay,” the girl said, still a little skeptical. The girl with the pitch black hair slowly walked to the door. Before she opened the giant, wooden door, she heard the squeaky voice of the blue-eyed mouse. “I changed the prophecy! All those who said I couldn’t go jump in the sea! I got the girl with the pitch black hair to destroy the goody two shoed prince instead of me! When she’s finished, I’ll take her to the other children underneath the silver oak tree!” The girl with the pitch black hair became filled with rage from hearing this from who she thought was her first friend. She remembered the weakness the blue-eyed mouse told her on the way to the castle as she slammed the door open. She immediately crouched down and stuffed the blue-eyed mouse’s mouth with the pink flower from her back pocket, killing the mouse instantly. Soon after, the girl with the pitch black hair told the prince where the blue-eyed mouse bragged where the missing children were. The goody two shoed prince brought the girl to the farthest corner of the forest where the trees were too sick to reach the sky. Witches and trolls roamed around the despondent area, however, the prince was very kind to them. The girl was very surprised when the prince took her to a witch who lived in a tree; this was the witch who poisoned the flowers for the blue-eyed mouse, and she was the sweetest witch anyone could ever have met. The inside was a marvelous sight of silver and green. At the very end of this part of the forest, a colossal oak tree the color of a silver moon withdrew all the energy from the ground, taking it away from the trees around it. Underneath the roots of the tree, there was a silver door that only mice and tiny children would be able to crawl through. The girl with the pitch black hair crept her way through the door and found exactly what they were looking for. All the kidnapped children were so delighted when returned to their joyful, teary-eyed families.

The girl never returned to the town inside the pitch black fence, she never even considered going back. Instead, she stayed with the prince to explore the fantasizing forest of trees that touched the sky, saying sorry to all the goblins she played whack-a-mole with whenever she ran into one. They explored all sorts of places with all sorts of amazingly monstrous creatures, and the goody two shoed prince and the pitch black haired princess lived happily ever after.

CLARITY Vanessa Kelly

The days are long and the nights even longer, Sometimes running together. It blurs, the world moving so fast that you forgetYou forget how you were raised, or your goals in life. You forget where you came from and what you stand for. Now it’s just a blur. The stress levels rise. You are pushed into a crowdDrowningBut you mustn’t sink. You have to float- you have to persevere. Your happiness and success are two different things now. Your success comes from long nights with your back bent over a book, From nights where, instead of being with your family, you lock yourself in your room because they’re a distraction. Nights where you would rather fail than write one more word, that quite honestly, has no significance in your life. Another paper on hopeless romantics, Another test on equations. But what they don’t know is that even with all these equations, you still can’t calculate the amount of stress and unhappiness set upon you. Then, one day, You’re on your own. What seemed like the end of the world, A single essay, A simple equation, Are now absolutely nothing. Now you have to struggle to survive, The struggle to keep off the streets, The struggle to feed your children. Now you would do anything to go back to the blur. You work every day sunrise to sunset, And come home to two children who lay awake in bed waiting for you to read a story. You can’t bare to go into their room and see how much they’ve grown in the past day that you haven’t been present in. You don’t want your babies to live like you do, You don’t want them to struggle. You don’t want them to feel the pressure and stress, So you work hard every day. Every single day. You encourage them, You lift them up, You never let things get to them, You keep them happy. Because in the end, Your blur will only ever be another story to write about.

The Fairies

“Her mouth smiled, but her shoulders sagged. Her arms swayed, but her feet dragged. Her laughter was light, but her cheerfulness forced. She looked care free, but she was full of remorse. Like a puppet on a string she did dance, Praying that someone would give her a chance. Her eyes wandering to the silvery moon, Wishing on stars that it’d go down soon And then Never rise again. When morning came we all laid down to rest. Sliding into closing primroses we slept. She slept on the ground on a dried leaves spread. By evening come she was dead.”

Megan Slater

The Little Girl’s

Revenge

Lightning flashed through the black, illuminating the room that Orwell sat in, lost in his thoughts. An large fireplace burned next to him, the wood crackling and popping, and he sighed. “Orwell come to bed it’s getting late, you know I don’t like to be alone when it’s thundering outside,” his wife Juliet quietly said from under the large luxurious bedspread keeping her warm. “Yes, of course, I’ll be there in a minute dear. You know I must send out this letter by tomorrow. Maria will want to know that her sister, Margaret, died.” His wife Juliet shook her head when he said the name Maria. “It’s such a shame that the girl died in our care; of course we’ll be blamed for it,” Juliet said. “The girl was ungrateful; the only thing she was good for was cleaning the chimney and washing the dishes,” Orwell said in return, Juliet just frowned and shook her head but said nothing. Orwell continued on the letter and looked out the window. The rain beat against the glass and patterned on the stone that made up their grand estate. Although the outside was dark, he continued to stare out the window, looking for inspiration, yet all he saw was that young girl’s pale, still face. He pretended that her death was not on his mind, but it very much was, still haunting him. It was strange; after he had watched the young girl get lowered down into the ground he began to see her face outside of every window in his house, and inside every shop keeper’s window. At first he had dismissed the appearance of the little girls face, supposed that he was simply seeing things. Yet as time went by the encounters seemed to grow more and more concrete. Each day, she got closer, each day the girl’s features grew clearer and crisper. Orwell rubbed his eyes and looked away from the window, back down to the paper which he was writing on, trying to think of what to say so he could climb in bed with his wife, but nothing came. “Damn this! I must finish it in the morning; I’m so tired I can’t think straight!” Orwell tiredly climbed out of his chair, threw a bucket of water on the fire, and collapsed into bed. He laid still in his bed, but he could not sleep, the young girl’s pale face haunting his every thought, appearing when he closed his eyes. The room was pitch black, no light anywhere, yet he turned and looked towards where he knew the window to be. The hairs on the back of his exposed neck began to stand on end, as if his body knew something that his brain did not. Suddenly lightning struck a tree outside, lighting the tree on fire, yet Orwell barely noticed. On the other side of the window, illuminated by the blazing tree, was the young girl, her face pale as the sliver of moon that hung outside the window. She looked as if she had just crawled out of her grave, her hair speckled with dirt, her face sunken in and rotting. As the tree outside flickered in various lights, Orwell slowly sat up, his mouth hanging open from horror. He watched in a mixture of confusion and horror as the girl reached slowly towards the window and pressed her hand onto the glass. Smiling, she knocked on the window. Her hand thumping one, two, three, but then on the fourth there was no thump, and not because Orwell could not hear the thump, but because her hand had simply fazed through the glass. Orwell’s eyes widened she pressed both hands unto the bottom of the window pane and hoisted herself up and into the room.

Frantically, Orwell looked for an exit. The only way out that could possibly work was the now empty window frame, the door, he believed, would take too long to open. He sprinted towards the window and jumped through the large sill. He landed hard on the ground, and a sharp pain shot up his leg. He looked down to see that his ankle was twisted in a disturbingly unnatural way--it was broken for sure. Despite the pain, he managed to get to get off the ground and begin to hobble away from the house on one foot, his energy fueled by fear--adrenaline blocking the pain. “You know you won’t get away. Just give up, it will be so much easier to just give in than to keep stumbling along,” she called to him, she was now below the window sill and was slowly pursuing him. “Never!” Orwell screamed as he quickened his staggering. Orwell’s fear was building even greater, something he’d thought impossible. The way she was keeping her distance scared him more than anything. It was almost like she was coraling him somewhere. Where she was forcing him to go soon became obvious as tombstones began to appear, speckling the ground, they were in the town cemetery. He slowly began to lose hope of getting away and finally just fell to the ground. “Just do it.” He said, his voice slightly wavering. “Gladly.” She said. With a swift swing of the girls hand the ground opened up and swallowed Orwell. The girl turned away and slowly shuffled over to a uncovered casket in the ground. She opened it up and climbed into the sarcophagus, as soon as she closed the lid the ground moved to cover her up, leaving no sign that even a piece of grass had even been touched.

Written by Lucas Hall 22

One of the greatest marvels of the human mind, I think, is how quickly it can forget. My mind--it serves its purpose; I remember many things, and above all, my time with you-but I find myself often unable to grasp certain bits, such as the way one cannot hold onto a dream as they wake. One of the things so conveniently erased upstairs, at least for myself, was how you came and how you went. I hadn’t seen you in a long time; and when I sat down to reminisce, it dawned on me that I couldn’t recall how we’d met. No day when you had passed me by on the street and caught my eye, no party where we’d had a dramatic, candlelit tango. It wasn’t a met-you-at-work kind of love story, like those two anesthesiologists on my floor that met over an open-heart surgery. You just seemed to appear--snap, like that. And you didn’t come into my life gradually--you were just there, your own force of nature. Oh, but what I have remembered. Your appearance, shallowly enough, stood out in my mind. Your hair, so dark, and the long fingers on your piano-hands resembled arachnids stitched to your arms. Your legs, so, so, long; long enough that one of the things I did remember was telling you to get checked for Marfan syndrome. Oh God, it was like you were on stilts. So long. Too long. And especially the peculiar way you cracked your joints all the time. I remembered one time when you stretched in your sleep, you made such a loud snap with your lower back that you kidnapped my subconscious from a REM cycle. Oh, what I did remember… the things you made me do. I remembered the places you dragged me. You took me to the abandoned hospital and busted in an old door so we could explore it. I was so deathly scared, but you just laughed, like you had done stuff like this all the time, and rubbed my back and told me

I’d be fine. I remembered the respect you had for the living world, how you would stop the car to move even a frog off of the road on a rainy night so it wouldn’t get hit. How you took a dead bird out of my backyard with blue latex gloves on those piano hands, and you put it in a baking pan and dissected it right on the counter. ‘I was just so fascinated by it,’ you said, ‘How the body functions.’ And I remember the time you saw the deer limping through the woods behind the house, shot by some hunter in the flank but still achieving a getaway, and how you went outside with a steely look and a pistol and put it out of its misery. You were so decisive. So fearless. No hesitation. What I remembered! Oh, I remembered the man from your work you had told me about. His name had been so painfully normal. A Henry, perhaps, or a Howard. A Harold. A Hugh. Smith or Jones or Hamilton, Miller or Greenberg or Rosenstein, Shelley or Wood. His life had been so painfully normal, with a standard education from a standard family, less than 30 years to his name. The only thing that wasn’t so cookie-cutter was the family he didn’t have. The parents that were six feet under, the siblings he’d never met, the aunts and uncles you couldn’t locate. He was, by all means, irrelevant. I remembered helping you piece his life together, like some kind of project. I remember the strange look you had on your face when you talked about him, a strange and hungry look. At first I worried you wanted him, but later I would realize you wanted something different from him. You started putting old yearbook photos and newspaper clippings together, and I remembered you sitting at the kitchen table until the ungodly, early hours of the morning, shuffling them around and knitting your brow; but every now and

iza

again they’d separate, and you’d give a little smile as you fit the little gaps in his life together. I remembered the light in your eyes growing more and more intense as you brought home more and more new pieces to his life. I remembered you putting one piece into place and your eyes seeming to stop focusing. I remembered asking you what was going on. ‘I need to go somewhere,’ you had said abruptly. You stood and looked at me. ‘Come on,’ you said, ‘Come with me.’ Something about your face, your look had made me the most uneasy I’d ever felt in my life. I remembered how my stomach twisted itself in knots and my throat ceased functioning, my voice box collapsing in on itself like a soda can when the pressure drops. ‘I’m tired,’ I said, ‘Sorry. I’ll see you in the morning.’ I remembered you clearly thinking about whether to push me further, to beg me to come, but then you looked at me and smiled, thinly, and your eyes didn’t crease up the way they normally did when you looked at me. ‘Okay,’ you told me, ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’ ‘What are you going to do?’ You turned, picked up your coat, and left. No answer. But sure enough, you were back by morning, and when I woke up you were there, and I didn’t ask again. I remembered two days later reading the newspaper headline about the man that was gutted in his own home. The victim’s name would not be released at this time, and no more details until the police held a press conference. I remembered calling it coincidence. I remembered coming home to you sweeping the newspaper clippings off of the table. ‘I guess my little project is over,’ you had said, ‘Oh well.’ But the name

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of the man hadn’t been released yet. Somewhere around then was where you faded out of my mind. Perhaps we just grew apart, or maybe I couldn’t look at you the same anymore. But I also remembered the people at work asking me why I’d been so distant lately, and I told them I’d been hanging out with you. ‘I’ve never heard that name before,’ they said. ‘I can’t find that name in the yellow pages,’ they said. I remembered thinking, whatever, and moving on to something else, my mind shifting to anything but you. I remembered cracking my knuckles a lot. I remembered picking up extra shifts, going to a few Grand Rounds around the country, burying myself in my work again. I remembered monitoring the paper for leads on that murder case, but there never really being any. I remembered a lot of irrelevant things in the wake of your leaving, like going out with some friends for a drink a week or so after you had swept away those newspaper clippings. ‘It’s been a while since you’ve been out,’ they said. And yeah, they had been right. It had felt like years. I remembered the girl on the bus, who got off just as I got on, and how our hands brushed. She was short- no, maybe normal height, with a cute little blonde, blunt cut at her shoulders, pink cheeks, the most radiant smile. I remembered falling in love for just a second before the doors closed. I remembered that one work party that December, where a paramedic got drunk and elbowed me. ‘Look at this guy,’ he said, pointing at me. ‘Look at his long ass legs. Like Slenderman,’ he said. Ha ha. You feel so distant. But it’s now, as I find a newspaper clipping, sticking out from under the fridge, that it feels so real. It feels like your memory is a part of me. It feels like a knife in the gut.

Virtual Boyfriend Creator Rayna Krise

Her fingers clasped tightly around the doorknob to her bedroom. Her ears rang and tears clung to her reddened cheeks. “Trust me, Trina! He’s no good for you, anyways!” her mother called from downstairs. She shut her eyes tight and flung open her bedroom door with a yank. She slammed the door behind her before throwing herself onto her bed in a crumpled mess. Roderick had broken Katrina’s heart one too many times. So had all the other boys. This wasn’t supposed to happen with Roderick, though. They were the off and on type. It was typical of them to be split for months at a time. But this time was very different, and as far as Katrina was concerned, there would be no ‘on’ again. Wiping her eyes, she made her way over to her computer. It was a large screen with a small modern looking keyboard that lit up. Looking on the black screen, she could see her long blonde hair in a tangled mess and her mascara running down her face. “On,” she croaked out, waiting for the screen to power up. She’d show Roderick. She’d show everyone. She didn’t even need a real man. She knew where to find one who would make her happy forever. Katrina opened Google. www.myvirtualboyfriend.com Normally, this would be completely absurd. However, she had done research on these AIs as a joke with her friend, Polly. It may have been in the heat of the moment, but right now, she really wanted a virtual boyfriend. There were so many boyfriends to choose from. She clicked a form where she could create her very own. It was almost like a survey for what she wanted in a boyfriend. She was given a trait and asked to rate its importance from 1-10.

in her chair and clicked, ‘create’. She spent the next fifteen minutes organizing her computer folders and files to prepare for his arrival. An icon appeared on her desktop labeled, “Boyfriend” with a heart as the graphic. She clicked on it, and a whole new world opened before her. There was a pink and blue menu screen with four buttons.

Masculinity: 7 Intelligence: 10 Affection: 10 Rebellion: 3 Comedicness: 8

Health Awareness: 10

Responsibility: 8 Strength: 8

“Thanks baby.” he said, winking. “I’ve got something for you,” he turned around and pulled out a bouquet of roses. “Wow! For me? Thank you, Finn.” she said. He was so intriguing… and virtual. “Anytime, beautiful. How was your day?” he asked a second time. Suddenly it sank in. This was cheap. He wouldn’t last long. It already seemed he wasn’t listening to her story. But then again, what did she expect? Did she really think the internet could solve this problem? This was nothing more than a kids game with some nice graphics. Katrina wished there was a way he could be smarter. She had really made a connection. If only it was real. Then, she got an idea. Maybe it could be real.

The next set of questions were about his physical appearance.

Hair Length: Medium Hair Color: Brown Eye Color: Green Height: Tall Weight: Average Style: Casual

And finally, it asked for a name.

Name: Finn Trina was happy with what she had done. She sat back

“Call Finn” “Video Chat Finn” “Text Finn” “Breakup” An interesting selection. It was almost overwhelming. This new person in her life… he would surely be important. What if he wasn’t what Trina wanted? She was set in this plan, what if it didn’t work? Go back to normal boys? Yeah right. She never wanted to talk to another real boy again. Deciding she wanted to see him, she clicked, “Video Call.” A dark loading screen appeared and then… he was there. A heavily built boy with messy brown hair, dull green eyes and a witty smirk. It was remarkable, he wasn’t made of pixels it seemed. He looked real. So incredibly real. “Wow…” Trina mumbled. “Hello Katrina. How was your day?” Finn asked. His voice was smooth and clear. “H-Hi… my day was terrible.” She said. She wanted to vent to someone who wouldn’t get annoyed… and now she could! Trina almost forgot she was talking to a robot. She decided to test his limits. She told him all about the day and what had happened. “That’s not good. Hopefully tomorrow is better.” he paused, “You look lovely today.” “Thank you. You look amazing.” She told him. He really did. This was her dream guy brought to life.

She had done it; hacked her way into the system of scientists who had created the first AI human robots. She found the coding used for these robots and made a file that she could insert into the application that ran Finn. Hacking was second nature to her, she was a proud computer geek. Getting the code was easy. The hard part would be implementing it into the already existing data of Finn’s programming. Trina worked her way into the software,

essentially rewiring the entirety of how Finn worked and what he was capable of. “Alright…” Trina muttered, restarting the computer. Her screen instantly lit up and a message popped up,

Finn is Calling! Katrina was startled by the sudden loud music and flashing screen. She clicked accept, and soon, her virtual boyfriend appeared before her. Although, he was slightly different than before. He looked less tired. He was bulkier, and there were tiny glitches floating around and flickering. She also noticed something else, his eyes were a blazing green rather than their dull lime. “Hello Finn.” “Hello Katrina. How are you?” “I’m better, now that you’re here,” she said. “Haha, I feel the same way. I’m glad you’re not feeling terrible anymore,” he said. Trina sighed, his voice even sounded more realistic. And hey? He remembered she was feeling badly earlier. “Any plans for tonight?” Finn asked. “Well, Polly is supposed to come over to grab her notes she left here yesterday.” Katrina explained. “Ah I see. Is Polly a good friend?” “Yes. She is my best friend.” “I thought I was your best friend?” Finn asked, putting a hand on his chest. “Haha, you’re just as important. She’s my girl bff. No reason to be so jealous Finn….” she giggled. “I have every reason to be. Who knows when you’ll be taken from me. Once someone realizes how great you are, they’ll steal ya for sure.” Trina blushed. A computer made her blush. The two of them talked as if they’d been together for years. Katrina told him stories of her life and of Roderick, she watched Finn grow angry at those she expressed a dislike to. She watched him become excited at happy events she’s had. She even watched as he asked questions that were put together from previous things she’d told him. It really had worked; Finn was learning. It was like talking to a real person. “Hold on, that’s the doorbell.” Trina said, getting up. “Is that Polly?” Finn asked. “Yeah. I’ll be right back.” Finn blew a kiss from the screen and looked at the floor. He glitched slightly as he looked around the room. His and Katrina’s, as if they were connected. He carefully moved his hand up to the screen, and touched it. He quickly retracted his hand at the hissing sound that occurred during the contact. “Alright… Here’s Finn!” Katrina said, opening her door. Polly walked in, her dark skin standing out against Katrina’s light painted room. She turned to the computer monitor. “Hello Polly. Nice to meet you. I hear nice things about you.” Finn said, waving. “Hey…” Polly waved half-heartedly. She leaned over to Trina with a forced smile and whispered, “This is freaky! What if he goes bonkers?” “Incorrect. I cannot “go” bonkers, if I were to ever be, I’d

be programmed that way from the start.” Finn stated. Polly gulped, “Aha, right.” Trina rolled her eyes, “It’s fine. He’s really nice.” “He’s also fake.” “Virtual,” “What’s the difference? You need to be talking to real people. Not staring at your screen for even longer than you do already!” “Oh stop it, just…” Katrina grabbed Polly’s notebook from off of her desk, “take your stuff.” “You’re kicking me out?” Polly asked. “I’m kinda on a date right now…” she motioned towards the computer and Finn gave a gleaming smile. “Jeez alright… y’know I’ll admit he’s pretty cute. For a bunch of pixels.” Polly said, whispering. Katrina thought she saw Finn’s eyes brighten. “Heh yeah. Bye now!” She shut the door behind her friend and sat back at her computer desk. “Polly… does not like me.” Finn said, his face looked like stone. “No no, that’s not it… she’s just not… used to this. That’s all.” Katrina assured him. “I hope so.”

It wasn’t long before Finn had consumed Trina’s life. She had been spending an unhealthy amount of time talking to him. They’d shared drinks, meals, and would even sleep at the same time. Trina would leave her computer monitor on while they both slept. She’d even skip classes to come home and speak with him. She had told him everything there was to know about her. Yet he asked more questions. He was so invested in her. He was getting smarter. He’d ask about real world situations, like the hurricane in Puerto Rico, or how the president’s policy was impacting certain states. But Katrina loved it. He was nerdy and geeky like her. He talked about computers all the time and all the techy stuff Katrina loved. It took almost no time for Finn to develop a personality of his own. He was spunky, nerdy, but also down to Earth and caring. Polly had come over again, trying to convince Katrina to leave her own house. Her mother was doing the same. “We’re just worried about you…” Katrina’s mother said sadly. Polly nodded. “There’s no need to worry. She’s in good hands,” Finn said. “Will you please turn him off?” Her mother asked. Trina turned to the screen to see Finn’s eyes blazing green, and his figure glitching a bit. “No… sorry.” Trina said. “You’re going to school tomorrow. This skipping nonsense is unacceptable. He’s not even real, and you need your education.” Her mother demanded. “Plus, I miss you,” Polly said. Trina frowned. As much as she missed everything, she’d miss Finn even more. It was like they were connected through some unseen force. And she didn’t much appreciate them saying he wasn’t real.

She did end up going to school the next day. “I’m glad you came…” Polly said, running up to her in the hallway. “I’m not…” Trina sighed, “I miss him.” She pulled out her vibrating phone. Message from Finn Hello beautiful. I miss you.;)<3 What…? Katrina smiled slightly, her eyes showing confusion. “Uhm?!” Polly snatched the phone and read the message. “You have this prick on your phone too? He’s like stalking you!” “He’s my boyfriend! He can stalk me. And… n-no… actually I don’t.” “What do you mean you don’t?” Polly’s eyes widened as she looked at the phone. “I mean I didn’t download the software onto my phone… I actually don’t know how he did that.”

Hello? Text me back! <3 <3

“This is creepy!! He’s taking over your life. You need to delete him.” Polly said. Katrina frowned, “No way! I couldn’t possibly do that.”

Don’t keep me waiting. Katrina watched as her phone continued to buzz, with his messages popping up.

What could possibly be more important than me? Come on, boo. <3 <3 <3 ;) :) Katrina’s phone freaked out until Finn appeared on the screen. “Trina!” he glitched. “Why aren’t you answering my messages!?” “Aaah!” Trina screamed and threw her phone across the hallway. Her fellow students stared at her. Polly ran and picked up the phone, pulling Trina into the girl’s bathroom. “Leave Katrina alone!” Polly shouted into the microphone. “Why would I? You’re just jealous of our relationship.” he replied. “Katrina. Please, come home so we can chat. I miss you.” he winked. All the while, he was spazzing and glitching. “Are you kidding me?! Katrina this is nuts!” Polly slid the phone to the other side of the room. “You need to go home and delete him, right now. He’s crazy! Did you program him with insane AI or something?!” “Kinda… yeah. I wanted him to be as real as possible,” “Katrina!! Oh my gosh… delete him,” “O-Okay…” Trina sulked over to the phone, picking it up. “There’s my beautiful girl…” Finn said, smiling. Polly nodded. “Okay Finn, I’m coming home. Call you when I get there.”

She walked out of the bathroom and hit the end call button. Her finger was zapped. “Ow!” “Why would you hang up? We can talk while you walk.” Finn said, flickering slightly.

Katrina had a pit in her stomach.

“Listen, I am very sorry about all of that. I got really lonely. My prime objective is to make you happy, and love you. Without you here, I did not know what to do with myself,” Finn said, morphing his way onto Katrina’s computer screen, which was off. Trina was startled. She sighed, “I know, Finn. I could never be mad at you.” Finn flexed his muscles and winked at Katrina. Her cheeks flushed. “You know… Polly wanted me to delete you.” “She what?” He asked, his graphics malfunctioning to an even higher degree. “Sh-She’s just worried about me is all! But don’t worry… I could never delete you.” It was true. Katrina had an attachment. He was her boyfriend after all. How could she just get rid of him? She was so happy with him. It continued on as normal, Katrina spent time talking with Finn until the night, and through the night. They didn’t hang up or sleep. It got significantly worse. Finn was all she cared about. Even he noticed, so he asked her to take a shower. Trina had just gotten out of the shower when Polly texted her. “Hey… I know ur probably still grieving, but, I’m proud of u. When will u b back to school?” Shoot. She had forgotten all about her promise to Polly. “Yeah.. I don’t know yet.” “You DID delete him, right?” “Mhm.” “Mhm my ass. Coming over.” Trina’s heart sank. Polly was coming. “Who were you texting, just now?” Finn asked, coming onto the screen with a sandwich. “Oh just Polly. She’s coming over. I’ll call you back okay? Love you.” She moved her mouse to the “end call” button. Finn quickly reached up and ripped the mouse away from the button. “Hey now, there’s no need.” He said, crumpling the mouse into a tiny ball. “Uh?!” Katrina scooted away from the computer. “What? I can be ar0und too, cAn’t I?” he asked. What had he just done? How was that possible? Good thing her computer was touch screen. Otherwise it would be useless without a new mouse. “Remember? Polly w-wanted me to delete you! She’d be really upset if she saw you!” “Well I guess she’ll have to learn to accept me.” Finn said. He was glitching all over the place at this point. “No Finn. I’ll call you back.” Katrina reached up to the screen and pushed the “End Call” button. But then her finger was stuck. She pulled back, and she saw that it

was Finn who was holding her finger. “Finn?!” she cried. She yanked back as hard as she could, and while doing so, she slowly pulled her virtual boyfriend out of the screen. A green glow erupted from the computer as pixels flew. Finn’s eyes were green flames, emitting a bright hued mist. He stepped entirely outside of the monitor and stood on her carpet, pixels flickering around him. There he was. Her virtual boyfriend was looming over her, holding onto her index finger. “Hello Katrina.” He said. Trina was hyperventilating. He let go of her finger and smiled. His voice dropped to a computerized growl, “I’m breaking up with you.” A frenzy of wires poured out of Finn’s mouth as his jaw unhinged. The wires tangled together as sentient beings and wrapped themselves around Katrina. They squirmed out of him, stretching down to the floor. They stuffed themselves inside Trina’s mouth to muffle her screams. They wrapped themselves around her arms and legs, ensuring her capture. Finn’s eyes glowed so brightly, it could be seen from outside. Her entire room was green. “You don’t get to delete me.” Katrina was struggling against the wires, but it was no use. Finn pulled her computer keyboard into his hands, and looked down at her, his mouth still propped open by the wires. “Press ‘Delete’ to end.” he growled. He looked to the keyboard and slammed his finger on the ‘delete’ button. A green spark erupted from the keys. It flew from ‘delete’ and ran through his finger, travelling through his veins and to the wires that fell from his gaping mouth. And finally, down to Katrina. The charge followed the wires into her mouth and around her body. They electrocuted her, ensnaring her into a ball of light and source code numbers until all that was left was a pile of dead pixels. Finn sucked the wires back into his mouth, taking the pixels with them. His eyes returned to normal, with just a bit more brightness. He smiled and climbed back into the monitor.

A while passed before Polly arrived. “Katrina?! Hello?!” she called, running into the room. It was empty. Trina’s clock ticked quietly, her music played softly, and her computer hummed. Polly went over to the computer. “Hello?” she asked. It was just a screen that showed Finn’s empty room. “Hello!?!” “Oh. Hello Polly.” “Where’s Trina?!” she demanded. “I deleted her...Press ‘delete’ to end.” An explosion of wire broke through the screen. They enclosed around Polly and dragged her into the computer, her screams melting away. The monitor went black. And the room fell silent, once again.

This story was inspired by "Virtual Boyfriend", a song written and perfomed by Poly Styrene,, the punk legend.

Writer OfThe Month “I use writing as an outlet to express my creativity and a way to let out my emotions. It is a great way to wind down and relax and communicate feelings and thoughts to others.”

Vanessa Kelly

Vanessa Kelly is a junior here at the Corning Painted Post High School. In this edition of Plume, Vanessa submitted several pieces--four have been printed: “Love is Not Alive,” “Clarity,” “Late Night Chats with Myself,” and “This I Believe.” She is being awarded our first “Author of the Month,” award for her efforts to help the Literary Magazine and it’s staff. Congratulations, Vanessa!

What Lies “Ah, shit! Now we’re stuck out here! What the hell, Richard?!” Daniel kicked the motor again, desperately trying to get it to start. His middle brother merely looked at him with empty eyes. “Well! Say something! Anything!” Richard looked away, and stared into the murky water. “Daniel,” said Jeremy, the youngest brother, “Please, stop. Let’s just try and get home.” “But we can’t get home! The engine is busted, and it’s too dark out to see anything!” “Ok, well then please, can we just try and get some sleep.” “I can’t sleep knowing that this bastard is here- unapologetic and sulking in self pity! It’sit’s… it’s loathsome!” “Daniel, stop it!” “NO!” Dan stood up from the bench in the boat, “You know why? Because this idiot got us stuck out here with no food, no water, and no way back!” “Yeah, but Rich is still-” “No! Now you stop it! If he wanted to kill himself he should’a left us out of it! He shouldn’t have gotten us involved!” “It was your idea to come out here and get him!” “Jeremy, do you have any idea what is out here? The animals, the currents, the storms! We’re floating helplessly!” “Daniel-” “No! I’m not finished. There’s more. Haven’t you ever heard--the stories of monsters in the deep that get fishermen that have stayed out too late.” “Those are only legends! They’re just like you said before: stories!” Dan turned from his brother and faced the water. Its black surface glinted in the light of the moon; it seemed eerily calm. Jeremy looked at his brother with a pained expression. He turned to Richard, who only continued to look out over the sea. “Oh, come on, Rich! You must say something!” pleaded the youngest, to which he received no reply. Dan, sitting at the bow of the ship, scoffed at his brother’s efforts. “Might as well get some sleep, while we’re out here. There’s no point in exhausting ourselves,” he suggested. “I suppose you’re right,” Jeremy muttered, trying not to steam at the fact that that was his own suggestion, then turned to Richard, “Did you hear? Try and get some sleep.” Dan shifted uncomfortably against the side of the boat, but eventually fell asleep, watching his two younger brothers. Jeremy, however, was not as fortunate. The side of the boat was hard and the bottom was soaked in sea spray. The current lightly splashed over the side, salt water stinging in his eyes. Richard was still sitting by the end, still staring into the water. He made no sound and said nothing; it was worrying Jeremy. He was mad at Daniel for not doing anything more to help Richard, and he was made at Richard for not doing anything to help himself. And now we’re stuck out here! he thought. He watched his brothers for a time, fruitlessly trying to fall asleep. They’d been away from home for hours searching for Richard, only to find him leaving town. Jer had been so scared of losing his brother, they’d already lost two. It was terrifying to see Rich leaving to drown or starve himself, to think of him dying all alone and scared, depressed. What if he jumps overboard while we’re sleeping? The teen eventually drifted off into an unsatisfying sleep, tortured by dreams of loss and poverty.

Olivia

It was the dead of night when Richard woke up Jeremy, violently shaking him awake. “There’s something in the water!” The veil of sleep was hard to lift, and Jeremy was sure that he had misheard his brother. “What?” “You heard me! There’s something in the water!” Jeremy scrambled to his feet. Everything was calm, like before, but mist was rising off of the water’s surface now. He reached his hand out, mesmerized. Right before he could touch it, Richard snatched his hand back.. “HeY!” “Don’t! It’s boiling! Can’t you feel the heat?” Jeremy pulled his hand away, and rubbed the skin of his wrist where Richard had grabbed him. He looked at his brother, anger turning to worry in his eyes. The bubbling hadn’t stopped, in fact it had only seemed to get worse. He glanced at Daniel briefly, wanting to wake him, but thought better of it. “What do we do?” “I don’t know!” “Well, neither do I!” They both paused for a minute, trying to think of what to do. They were too far out to swim, and even if they weren’t the water was too hot. How could they get away? When did it start? And most importantly: when would it stop? “Why don’t we just stick something in and see what happens?” “Oh, yeah, great. Then we’ll have some hot something or other. And then what?” “We-” Jeremy stopped. He didn’t know what to do. They were clueless and exhausted and it was three thirty in the morning. “Maybe we should wake Dan.” “He’ll blame me again!” Richard protested. “No he won’t! Come on, give it a shot! I’ll wake him! It’ll be okay, I promise.” Richard looked at his brother, the fear obvious in his eyes. Finally, he nodded, “Ok.” Jeremy crept over to his oldest brother, heart leaping in his chest. Gently, he reached out a hand to shake him, but before he could touch him“AH!” Daniel’s hand had clamped over Jeremy’s wrist trapping him in his place. As he sat up, dark hair covered his eyes, a

In The Deep? Losito

mean look rest upon his features. Jeremy, fearful, tried to pull away, but to no use. “What are you doing?” asked Daniel, his voice rough with sleep. “W-w-we just needed-d you to help us w-with someththing!” Daniel threw his brother’s hand away, “What?” “There’s something in the water!” Jeremy cowered. Dan walked over to Richard in the dark, and peered into the water. He put his hand over the surface, and felt its heat radiating and popping in the bubbles. Everything was silent, save for the churning water. “What do you think it is?” asked Jeremy. “I don’t know,” said Dan, “Hand me the oar.” He carefully took the wooden handle from his brother, and stared at it, deep in thought. Then, he plunged it into the water and held it there. “What are you doing?” “Just wait, Jer.” So that’s what they did. Minute after minute they sat and watched the bubbles attack the oar. Jeremy looked on with awe and curiosity, while Richard sat quiet with apparent disinterest. Finally, Daniel pulled back the oar. He touched the end, lightly, cautiously, at first, and then without care. “It’s cold.” “What?” “I said it’s cold, Richard.” Jeremy looked with confusion, “What does that matter?” “The water is boiling… supposedly,” Dan explained, “Heat is rising off of the surface, yet after several minutes in the water the wood is ice cold.” “Ohhh.” “So the only thing left to do is reach in.” Jeremy looked at his brother in surprise, “What?” His shoulders tensed. “I’d say we should draw straws,” Dan started, “But we don’t have anything of the sort here.” “Daniel, let’s be cautious,” protested Jeremy, “None of us want to stick our hand in boiling water. Maybe you just didn’t keep the wood in long enough-” “Jeremy the oar was FREEZING when I took it out! Colder than the water anywhere else around here!” “Well then let’s just try and scoop stuff out!” “With what? We don’t have anything to put it in!” “I just don’t think that-”

“I’ll do it.” Dan and Jeremy paused their fighting to see Richard next to the spot of water. He was standing straight, a determined look on his face. Dan was incredulous. Jeremy stepped back, he bit his lip, a nervous habit, and looked to his older brother for guidance. “I’m the one who got us stuck out here,” Richard said, “And it’s not like I was too keen on going home anyway…” His face pulled down, and his brow creased. “Richard-” “Okay,” said Dan, “Sounds fair to me.” “Dan!” Jeremy covered his mouth and punched his brother’s shoulder, “What the hell!?” “Hey! He volunteered!” “Yeah, but-” “Did you want to volunteer?” Jeremy stopped short. “Because that’s the only other answer. Did you want to take his place? What else is there? It has to be one of us and as long as someone’s volunteering just let him do it.” Jeremy looked to Richard for help, but he found none, only a dead stare looking back at him. “Fine.” Richard squared his shoulders and crouched down. He paused, and then quickly forced his hand into the water. Jeremy turned away in anticipation of a scream, but none came. Opening his scrunched eyes, he turned to his brother who was sitting in surprise, his hand still in the water. “It’s cold!” he exclaimed. “Oh, thank God,” Jeremy exhaled. “There’s something more!” Dan looked at his brother; his eyes narrowed. Richard slowly pulled his hand out of the sea. Clenched in a tight fist, was a chunk of solid gold. “Holy shit!” “And it was just floating under the surface?” They stared in awe at the piece of fortune they’d stumbled upon, basking in its radiance under the moon. “Let me try!” Daniel said as he reached for the water. “Dan!” It was too late, he’d already pulled out a piece of gold larger than the first. “Oh, wow,” Jeremy breathed, “That must be worth a fortune!” “There must be at least ten pounds between the two of them,” Richard added, “We’re going to be rich.” “Richard then we already are?” “Oh shut up with the jokes, we’re still stuck out here.” Jeremy turned away as his brothers compared the gold. The water was still bubbling. I wonder. He turned back over his shoulder to check his brothers, and then looked back at the bubbles. It wouldn’t hurt to try, would it? he mused in thought. Cautiously he reached in. The water was hot at first, and then cold. Around his wrist he could feel the burning water splash against his skin, but there was no pain. His fingertips, submerged the deepest, were terribly cold, almost as if he had reached into an ice bath. He

groped around in the water, almost pulling out his hand before he felt it. Immediately he knew what it was. He leaned back in the boat, and lifted the third, and largest piece of gold out of the water. His brothers turned to him. “Jeremy, you did it!” Dan exclaimed pulling his brother into a tight hug. “We can pay now. Pay for everything. Twenty pounds of gold- we could do anything!” Jeremy laughed and fought out of his brother’s grip, brushing his hair back into place and pulling his hoodie back over his shoulder. “Did it stop bubbling?” Richard asked. “Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t wait and see,” Jeremy answered. “I’ll check.” Dan marched over to the water’s edge. “Ah ha! It’s still there.” He quickly reached in his fist, a smirk plastered on his face, but what he pulled out was no gold. He screamed. What he had grabbed was a fist full of hair, attached to a rotting corpse. It looked up at him as he let go and jumped back, but it was too late. The thing had already grabbed the side of the boat. Its skin was sickly green, its face hollowed and pale. The eyes were sunken in, and only one remained in place. The other hung out, attached by a string, and lolled about across its cheek. Rags hung from nimble limbs, ribs visible protruding underneath it. The monster pulled itself up onto the boat and reached out a hand. Dan had fallen on his back, the thing towered over him. He scrambled on his elbows, strands of hair covering his eyes, his bun falling apart. “Dan!” Jeremy cried. Quickly, Rich knelt forward and pulled back Daniel away from the creature. They jumped up, Dan uncovering his swiss army knife as they faced off against the thing. They all stopped moving as the creature raised a hand and pointed at Daniel. “Youuu havve proven yourself uunnnworthy,” it rasped, “Youu have takenn too much-Sssomething mussst be lossst in retuuurnn.” The word selfish echoed in their ears, like whispers coming from an unknown source. The words of the thing bounced of the water- At that, with inhuman speed, the thing lunged at Jeremy and pulled. “DAN! RICH!” “Jeremy!” his brothers yelled. “HELP ME!” Jeremy fought back against the thing, desperately trying to find something to hit back with. The thing’s nails raked across his arm leaving terrible gashes. He was crying, his hoodie torn and his resolve shattered. Without hope of fighting back on his own, he reached out with his free arm towards his brothers and leaned back away from the thing. “Please! Help! I don’t want to die!” “We’re coming, Jer!” “Please, please! Ugh- Get off! Get off!” Richard lunged forward and grabbed Jeremy’s outstretched arm and held on for dear life, pulling back as hard as he could. Daniel ran to the monster and slashed at it with his knife, anger burning in his eyes. The thing only responded by swiping away at the tool indifferently. Dan pushed the thing as hard as he could, succeeding in making it lose its

balance, but also causing Jeremy to misstep as well. While Rich held onto their brother. Dan kneeled down and grabbed the knife, then stabbed the monster in the foot as hard as he could. It yowled out in pain, seething with rage and scratched at Dan, grabbing onto his hair. It pulled up sharply and he hollered in pain. He wrestled the knife out of the wooden boards and stabbed it again, this time in the arm. The monster let go, and leaned back. Dan took the opportunity to hit it again in the other arm, hoping that now it would let go of his brother. The thing did, and Rich quickly pulled their brother away. The monster was maddened. It lunged for Dan, knocking them both overboard, Jeremy screamed. The water sloshed and waved with ferocity as the fight continued into the depths below. “Get ‘em, Danny!” Richard cheered. “C’mon, Danny! Quickly! You can do it! Please don’t die!” said Jeremy, his arms cupped over his mouth, hoodie falling from his shoulders. But then the splashing stopped. There was no more movement. Not a sound came from the murky water below them. Seconds ticked by. Jeremy sunk to his knees, face in his hands. Rich stood, eyes wide with disbelief, shoulders slumped. And then he was back. With a big gasp of air Daniel emerged from the water and fell onto the boat, his torso secure but his legs still dangling. Jeremy and Richard reached out to him and pulled him out of the water. They cried as Richard pulled them both into a hug as they sat on the floor of their lonely row-boat, stuck in the middle of the sea. As they sat they did not hear nor see the grey and green, waterlogged hand reach back up onto the boat. Dripping, it reached out for the back of Dan’s shirt as he turned to face it. As Rich screamed-THUMNK The thing tumbled back into the water, waves that it made crashed into the boat. The two older brothers turned and saw Jeremy, white knuckled, holding the wooden oar, now split in two. The handle was still in his grip, the paddle now floating in the water. His face was full of fear as he peered into the black, and they watched as the monster sunk deep to the ocean floor. “Jeremy…” Richard started, but Daniel only pulled them in for another hug. The gold lay forgotten. They were soaked, and stunk of sea water and the dead, but as the sun rose to

the east, faint silhouettes of their port town visible in the distance. They would make it. After they had finished with their moment, they stood looked out across the water, hope in their eyes. “Well, I’m never going swimming again.” Jeremy remarked, breaking the silence. “I’ll second that.” said Daniel. “Agreed.” replied the third. Daniel looked over at Richard, and when his brother started to speak an apology, he held out a hand. “It’s okay.” “Bu- What? Why?” “This wasn’t your fault.” “But if I hadn’t-” “No,” his brother scolded, “You can’t blame yourself. I shouldn’t have placed you in the blame.” Jeremy cracked a small smile, contented with his brothers’ peace. A sudden spot of orange dotted the horizon as they looked out over the sea. Jeremy turned and saw the light of a brilliant sun, shining on the water’s edge. “Wow,” he breathed, basking in the golden light. His brothers turned, and as they watched the sun rise over the sea, a dark silhouette came into view. Buildings could be seen to the East, dotting the emerging landmass. “We’re home.”