Prairie Ridge HS Lit Mag 2017 by Wolf Prints

Prairie Ridge High School Literary Magazine ~ Spring 2017 1

Table of Contents Front Cover: “Ultraviolet” – Abby Klimkowski

“Vermillion” – Hope Yeomans

“R/r/ | 3.16.16” – Amber Pooran; “Berries” – Emily Keck; “Halloween” – Allen Miller “Ink” – Sean Sullens; “Red” – Chase Ray “Friends? | 8.16.16” – Amber Pooran; Photograph – Toby Asbach

“Sunset” – Lily Rizo; Photograph – Cade Allen “Letters to a Dead Man | 9.5.16” – Amber Pooran; Photograph – Theron Lopez

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Photographs – Amanda Nalepka; Grace Leali

“Amethyst” – Hope Yeomans “Another Day | 6.6.16” – Amber Pooran; Artwork – Jacqueline Schneider Artwork – Jacqueline Schneider; “Dance More, Worry Less” – Allyson Akerberg

“Apricot” – Hope Yeomans

“G/g/|11.4.16” – Amber Pooran; “Coffee” – Lily Rizo

Artwork – Chase Ray

Photographs – Kaitlyn Bradshaw; Tyler Lentz

“Obsidian” – Hope Yeomans

Artwork – Jacqueline Schneider; Pilar Goncalves

“Bench” – Jennifer Angeles; Photograph – Josie Sidi

“Saffron” – Hope Yeomans

“rabbit hole” – Lily Rizo; Photograph – Josie Sidi

Photographs – Jennifer Rau; Madison Feezel

“Andromeda” – Adya Kumar; Photograph – Kaitlyn Bradshaw

Photographs – Dan Bruce; Jennifer Rau

“Ivory” – Hope Yeomans

Photographs – Josie Sidi; Madison Feezel

“Chartreuse” – Hope Yeomans

“Nature’s Colors” and “Pukwudgie – Jacqueline Schneider “What Poison Tastes Like | 8.9.16” – Amber Pooran; “Ink” – Josie Sidi

“Americans – Kylie Costello; “Ferris Wheel” – Megan Laufer; Photograph – Madison Feezel Photograph – Joseph Pinsky; “Phantom of the Opera” – Ally Akerberg; Artwork – Katie Anderson

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“Ash” – Hope Yeomans

“Unfamiliar Waves | 7.3.16” – Amber Pooran; “Raindrops” – Lily Rizo

Photographs – Samantha Ingwalson; Josie Sidi

“Ghosts” – Autumn Rose Pesina

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Photographs – Madison Feezel; Josie Sidi

Photograph – Sara Orgler

“Cerulean” – Hope Yeomans

Photograph – Alex Brucki

“‘Bearly’ Alive” – Abby Klimkowski

“Leaf” – Avery Sadowski

Acknowledgements

Back Cover: “Ultraviolet” – Abby Klimkowski

“Animal of Color” – Abby Klimkowski; “Transitioning” – Lily Rizo “Where Are You?” – Adya Kumar; “Clouds” – Kayla Meadows Photograph – Cade Allen; “Sensory Deprivation | 9.20.16” – Amber Pooran” “Rose” – Hope Yeomans

ULTRAVIOLET

Prairie Ridge High School

Literary Magazine Spring 2017 Edition

THE ROSTRUM – A stage for public speaking 3 Spring 2017 – Volume XV

“Vermillion” by Hope Yeomans 4

R /r/ | 3.16.16 By Amber Pooran To you, I am mad I am enraged I am lost and at my tipping point There is a hunger inside of me that will never be satisfied You say you love me I know you do But I can’t help craving more You are a good man But you’ve convinced me that I’m hard to love And for that I will never forgive you

“Berries” by Emily Keck

“Halloween” by Allen Miller 5

“Ink” by Sean Sullens

“Red” by Chase Ray

Friends? | 8.16.16 By Amber Pooran 9:47pm The world doesn’t owe me a damn thing but you surely do I took your worst and your best and I’m still contemplating friends and you left because you were in too deep The words you sent to me were empty when mine held everything My words held us And you took an eraser to the paper

I’ve been thinking without words It’s just the right side of your face, the side I was always on, glued to my mind It’s just that side of you in different clothes, different locations, different shades that I get lost in Thinking without words A silent picture with a cracked lens With you I was okay Lost and happy, and completely yours yet utterly confused Strangers with some memories? [B.S.].

Photograph by Toby Asbach 7

“Apricot” by Hope Yeomans 8

G /g/ | 11.4.16 By Amber Pooran 2.47pm There’s a style in your tone, but All it takes is your eyes The way they say things that refuse to abandon your mouth Brown has never looked better And I am a writer without words thanks to you Despite how many times I try and arrange them No configuration will due You’re too much to articulate

“Coffee” by Lily Rizo 9

Photograph by Kaitlyn Bradshaw

Photograph by Tyler Lentz 10 Â

Artwork by Jacqueline Schneider

Artwork by Pilar Goncalves 11 Â

“Saffron” by Hope Yeomans 12

Photograph by Jennifer Rau

Photograph by Madison Feezel 13 Â

Photograph by Dan Bruce

Photograph by Jennifer Rau 14 Â

Above: Photograph by Josie Sidi

At left: Photograph by Madison Feezel 15 Â

“Chartreuse” by Hope Yeomans 16

Above: “Nature’s Colors” by Jacqueline Schneider

At right: “Pukwudgie” by Jacqueline Schneider 17

What Poison Tastes Like | 8.9.16 By Amber Pooran 7:20pm I told you I couldn’t say “no” So you pulled me closer I told you what he did and you did the same Silly me for thinking I’m to blame, again and again

I would have thought That my tears screamed “STOP” But I guess you heard ‘Put my fingers in her mouth’

“Ink” by Josie Sidi 18

Photograph by Samantha Ingwalson

Photograph by Josie Sidi 19 Â

Photograph by Madison Feezel

Photograph by Josie Sidi 20 Â

“Cerulean” by Hope Yeomans

“Animal of Color” by Abby Klimkowski

“Transitioning” by Lily Rizo 22

Where Are You? A Poem by Adya Kumar Where are you? I can't feel you anywhere My heart, my soul is searching for hands Hands that can hold me My eyes long for someone to weep with Someone to share, and erase my sorrow My empty body trudges through the dark My heavy heart is its only weight My lips call your name Vacant sound resonates through darkness Nothing. Where are you?

“Clouds” by Kayla Meadows 23

Photograph by Cade Allen

Sensory Deprivation | 9.20.16 By Amber Pooran 8:44pm I was afraid to touch But I don’t know how else to feel They left me with bruises and scars When we part, it’s only giggles and grins You shouted ‘I love you’ And my walls came down You whispered ‘nevermind’ And water began to flow I said I love you, too I still do, never mind the silence I didn’t think I was ready But you changed my mind What a pity we didn’t change together 24

“Rose” by Hope Yeomans 25

“Sunset” by Lily Rizo

Photograph by Cade Allen 26

Letters to a Dead Man | 9.5.16 By Amber Pooran It could’ve been beautiful We could’ve been beautiful But you’re all out And mine’s overflowing There was enough for the both of us Yet the donor was rejected When love’s not enough What’s left to be done?

Photograph by Theron Lopez

Photograph by Amanda Nalepka

Photograph by Grace Leali 28 Â

“Amethyst” by Hope Yeomans 29

Another Day | 6.6.16 By Amber Pooran You can’t keep thinking love is a text every now and then You can’t be scared he won’t talk to you Due to a breakdown Or something you said You’re not mad You’re terrified

8:35pm Gemini and Cancer It’s written in the stars 16 and 19, it’s been done before *You’ve come to the conclusion that you’re not afraid of men You are scared of them Because, although he was a good man, What if they treat you as he did?

*a message to a friend

Artwork by Jacqueline Schneider 30

At left: Artwork by Jacqueline Schneider

At right: “Dance More, Worry Less” by Allyson Akerberg 31

Artwork by Chase Ray 32 Â

“Obsidian” by Hope Yeomans 33

“Bench” by Jennifer Angeles

Photograph by Josie Sidi 34

“rabbit hole” by lily rizo i'm stuck in a routine of falling down the rabbit hole. once you get down there, time escapes you, reality escapes you, and you become oblivious to what's going on around you. all you can focus on is how crazy you feel and how absolutely stuck you feel. you're stuck in mud so deep that it's all around you, and you're slowly sinking to the bottom. you're drowning, oh, god, you're stuck in this thick mud and you don't want to be but you are. and, suddenly, you are the mud. you get used to feeling so stuck and overwhelmed and hopeless that it takes over your mind and your body. but, even when you do, eventually, get out of the…damn mud, you can never really get the feeling out of your mind. the trapped, isolated feeling. you can still feel the mud on your skin even though you've cleaned yourself countless times. the mud never really leaves. you get haunting, awful flashbacks to when you were in the mud. they come in your dreams, your most vulnerable state. oh, you can never wipe the tears off your face. it doesn't matter how hard you try. they're permanent, inked into your skin. suddenly you find yourself wandering and you don't know who you are or where you are anymore. you trip a few times, stumbling over your own feet, but you're able to catch yourself. you're still running, though. from what? you don't really know. you tell yourself, 'everything is okay.' but your resiliency is wearing down and you're still running and running and running and your vision starts to blur and you're crying, you're bawling, you're wailing, screaming and you can't breathe and you can't see anymore and you trip. again. you've landed back in the rabbit hole. the previous events begin to repeat themselves and this time the only thing that's different from the last is that there is no way to escape the labyrinth of the rabbit hole. you're stuck there and now you're there forever.

At left: Photograph by Josie Sidi 35

Andromeda By Adya Kumar Steam purges my heavy head of sanity Only my head and stomach keep me from falling My heavy head lolls around My eyes are rolling back No I cannot I cannot fall I must cling tighter To the rusted rock My hands are bleeding from its rough surface I must hold on I must cling tighter

I am Andromeda My hands and feet chained to the rusted rock My body swinging limply over the water The blue-green dragon foams at its mouth It coils round the rocks It beckons me It beckons me to fall into the water It sprays its sickly, bubbling breath onto my cheek I gasp for the cold air The water, the dragon is tantalizing and warm It beckons me to fall It's hands burst against and lap at my ankles

Photograph by Kaitlyn Bradshaw 36 Â

“Ivory” by Hope Yeomans 37

Americans By Kylie Costello

America was a Lifestyle. stepping ashore, working fields, working machines.

America was a Hope. fighting in wars, fighting for rights, fighting for money.

America is a Dream. of liberties and freedom, a home for the brave, land for the freed.

America is an Idea. of a life worth living, the hopes of thousands, a dream worth having.

America is Change. Wars won, fresh ideas, new generation.

“Ferris Wheel” by Megan Laufer

Americans are the people. Who know what they were, but not who they are.

At right: Photograph by Madison Feezel 38

At right: Photograph by Joseph Pinsky

At left: “Phantom of the Opera by Allyson Akerberg

At right: Artwork by Katie Anderson 39

“Ash” by Hope Yeomans 40

Unfamiliar Waves | 7.3.16 By Amber Pooran It’s 6:21 pm, July 3, and I still want you Writing’s what I do best, but it’s hard to express something I’ve never felt before now The closest I can get is the feel of the ocean Stepping into it for the first time, something terribly magical Ethereal, even I’ve never been back so I suppose it may seem silly to feel so strongly for something so short lived I’m emotional, can’t do nothing bout’ it I know what we were, what we are I haven’t a clue, but I still spend my 11:11s wishing we’ll be I want to tell you about that night but I’m scared you’ll be turned off by the things I’m still trying to accept You don’t have to love me Just stay for awhile

“Raindrops” by Lily Rizo 41

Ghosts By Autumn Rose Pesina Chapter 1: Orphans She looked out over the garden. It was getting dark, so she closed her eyes and felt the moon’s beams hit her. Her body collapsed, and the soul arose from the corpse. It opened its eyes and looked at the bridge over the garden. The moon was just above it; it had 8 hours till dawn. Its dark mass flew up, looking like torn silk and ash in the wind. It flew high above the tree line. In looked over the small town, and soon its eyes veered towards the orphanage. It flew over and squeezed through the small inch-wide opening of the window. It went into the hall and flew to the balcony above the stairs. It griped the ledge, seeing small children sleeping. The keeper was not awake. It pushed a creaky board. One of the children heard it and awoke from his slumber. “Madame Gima?” he asked looking around in the dark. “No..” it whispered. “Who is there?” he asked awakening the other children. “Who are you talking to?” one of the girls asked. “ Me..” it said. “I’ll light a candle,” another boy said. They all got up and went by the stairs, in their eyes they saw a girl with baggy eyes peeking up from the ledge. “Hello, what are you doing in here?” the girl asked going over along with the two boys. They all sat by the ledge. “I'm looking for your keeper..” it said. “Madame Gima?” the girl asked. “Yessss..” it said tilting its head. “Can you call for her?” it asked. “I don't know…if she finds us up, she’ll throw us in the monster closet…” the girl said, scared. “Where is it?” it asked. “It’s disguised as a long chalkboard” the boy said. “CHILDREN!? WHY ARE YOU UP?” Gima yelled. “Madame, there's a stranger here,” the children replied, all looking at her. She had a Lantern. The creature flew around the light and up into the rafters where it sat and watched her rush the children away to investigate. “What were you talking about before it left?!” she demanded. “The-the monster closet…” the girl stuttered. She looked at them angrily. “What have I told you about talking to people you don't know!?” she yelled. “We're sorry. Please, Miss Gima,” the girl cried. Ms. Gima then proceeded to slap the girl. “ YOU DARE DISOBEY ME! THE HAND THAT FEEDS YOU?! YOU CHILDREN ARE FOUL, WRETCHED SOULS! THE LORD WILL CURSE YOU TO DAMNATION!” Ms. Gima then stopped and acted calmly like nothing had happened. The children were frightened and cried. “Please, we're sorry! Please forgive use,” one of the boys begged. “When I find the intruder, I will punish all 3 of you! You 3 will have no food for a week and will be put in the monster closet!” They hugged each other in fear. “I want my mommy!!” the boy cried. “You will never see your mommy again! I have a man who is willing to pay a good price for you! You’ll get to see your brother again. Now get back in bed. You broke the rules! I will now shackle you to your beds.” She escorted them to their beds and put the rusty shackles on them. Continue on page 43…

Photograph by Sara Orgler 42

Madame Gima heard someone walking, but she rushed in to find nothing. She then rushed to the chalkboard. She opened the door, and a little girl was in it, crying in fear. “Did you hear anything?! The stranger where is he?!” she demanded of the child. “I-I didn't hear anything!!” the girl begged, crying more. “Stupid tart!” she slapped the girl and grabbed her hair, tossing her to the ground. She then heard a growl from behind her. A black, smoking figure descended. She stood in horror, and the girl ran out of the room, slamming the door. “L-Lord...L-Lord, protect me!” she whispered in fear, backing away. When it touched the ground, it turned solid and the floor was covered in an inch of black sludge. Thorn vines arose. She quickly grabbed her rosary and screamed, “BE GONE, DEMON! YOU MUST OBEY GOD,. LEAVE, LEAVE!!” Its snicker was gurgled and inhuman. “Your god…” it whispered harshly, “has abandoned your foul soul..” The vines snatched her wrists and forced her to discard the rosary. “No!! I-I am God's child!! He protects me!!” She feared the creature as it struggled to pull her down, and vines wrapped around her legs tightly. “AAH!! S-stop!! Stop hurting me!! God give me strength!!” she begged. The thorns crept to the bottom of her thigh and tightened, causing large gashes and pain. She kneeled with a yelp. “CHILDREN!!HELP ME!!HEEEEELP MEEEE!!” she begged, now tearing up. It moved closer and shrunk down to her height. “Why? When you have tortured and stolen so many from home?” it said in a hushed whisper, looking into her eyes. “P-please…” she said. “P-please, have mercy!!” she begged it. It tilted its head, and the vines on her arms crawled all the way up to her shoulders and tightened and moved up to her neck. She cried in pain. It stroked her cheek. She looked at it in horror and screamed from the pain. The vines went up to her mouth, and one forced it open as the other held her head back. She wailed and thrashed, trying to escape. The creature formed an arm and hand and reached down her throat. She gagged and wailed and cried. She then gurgled blood. It lifted its arm out slowly, pulling out her heart and examining it. She gurgled, and blood oozed out of her mouth, and the heart beat fast before slowing down and stopping. The vines wrapped around her body, closing her mouth. Making her lay down, they pulled her slowly into the sludge till she disappeared. It looked at her heart as it glided across the goo and to the window sill, placing the heart neatly and softly on it. It lifted off the ground, and the sludge was gone, and it became translucent once again, slowly flying up and down the stairs and out the window. It flew in the wind, like torn silk. Continue on page 44…

Photograph by Alex Brucki

Chapter 2: The Black Lagoon It hid in the body, watching from afar. He smirked at the murky water at his creation, tossing daisies in the water and doing a little dark dance. Her black hair flowed softly in the water: her eyes, a milky white, and her blue dress, lightly stained. She looked up in the water, looking at him, and it had seen. A boy stood next to her, but was partially eaten by fish. “Oh, you both flatter me,” he said, having an imaginary conversation, “but don't worry, you won't be the last. I found cute blond siblings you can play with.” He smirked evilly. It glared from the shadows of the forest. “Soon I’ll need to get the Dillon twins to get brunet as well. It’ll be harder to get a red-head though..” he thought to himself. “Mmh, yes, yes. I may need to go out of town for that,” he said walking away. When he was out of sight and sound, it went to the children. It sat, looming over their corpses. It softly reached down, touching the water. It reached further and touched the girl's head. It closed its eyes softly. “Milly, I know where your brother is! He’s hurt. You must come with me quickly!” the man said. “REALLY!!? It’s him!!? I must tell mom and dad!” she said, tears in her eyes. “Not yet! You need to help me. It’s a really bad injury, and I need you to help me.” He grabbed her hand, and they rushed to a hidden path off the main road. They walked for what seemed like hours. “My feet hurt!” she cried. “Let me,” he said picking her up and running through to the clearing. He walked with her in his arms. “Where is he?” she asked. “Don't worry. He’s here,” he said in a dark voice as his serious face transformed into an evil grin. He placed her down and pushed her lightly towards the water. She walked slowly to it. “I-I can't see anything…Where's my brother?” she asked. “Shh, just look in the water…” he said harshly. She looked closer. The body jumped out of the water and grabbed her, gasping, “H-hellp mee!!” The soul of the child was trapped. Her skin, now out of the water, peeled slightly, and it backed away, startled. It fell back in and sunk down once more. It appeared he lured the children to the lagoon and drowned them. This was a dangerous man it was dealing with who needed to be taken care of quickly. He walked proudly through the streets and made sure to tip his top hat to anyone who passed by. He walked into the store and smiled. “Good morning, Kyle. Lovely day, is it not?” he asked with a hint of evil at the tip. “Is it a good day for you, Mr. Torres?” he asked as he put cans on the shelves. “Yes, very. I got to visit with some old friends last night,” he smiled. “Well, you're free to browse, just be weary of the newcomer. She’s a bit….odd…” Kyle warned. “Thank you for the warning.” He tipped his hat and went to browse the foods. He went to the back to get some butter; his eyes then veered to the lady. She was dressed in gloomy colors. He felt like he needed to watch her. She pushed her hair back from her neck and continued to browse the items, unsure of what she wanted. She was looking at jars. He went behind her, making her twitch away from her mind and scoot over for him to browse the selection. She quickly grabbed a jar of pickles and scurried away. He smirked. He loved it when people were skittish. She got two pepperoni sticks, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of wine. “That all?” Kyle asked. She simply nodded. “That's $4, please...” She pulled out a change purse and rummaged through it. “Allow me my lady...” Torres said with a smile, handing Kyle $4. “You're too kind, Mr. Torres,” Kyle remarked. “Thank you,” she murmured with a cute little curtsy and grabbed her stuff. “Allow me.” He took her bag and walked out with it. She followed. He took her to a bench and sat down. She sat a bit farther, so he placed her bag down. “Can I have a pickle?” he asked. “Um...sure...” She took it out and opened it. He put his arm on the back of the bench and opened his mouth. “Are you joking?” she seemed suspiciously unfazed. “Not at all, my dear,” he flirted. She put the pickle in his mouth, and when he bit down, she let go. He smirked. She ate a pickle, and he scooted a little closer to her. He wreaked “desperate”. “So, my mystery, where do you come from?” “None of your damn business,” she teased, but was trying to be rude. He simply chuckled. “Got a place to stay?” “Still none of your damn business!” she said more sternly, she was getting weirded out by him. He didn't seem to care and didn't get the message that she wasn’t interested, so he scooted closer. “Come now. I'm just trying to be friendly. Have a heart.” “ I’ll pay you back in 2 days!” she declared, getting up. “No need my dear! I wouldn’t dare ask a maiden like you to pay for anything~” he got up and bowed. She shook her head and walked away with her belongings. The air was chill, and she kept making sure he wasn’t following her. She went down an alley and was pulled into a dark corridor. She wanted to scream, but they covered her mouth. Continue on page 45…

“Shh...I won’t hurt you…” That voice – it was one she had heard before. It turned her around, and she saw her cousin. “Nicky?! Where have you been?!! We’ve been searching for you forever!!” she said, almost in tears as she hugged her cousin tightly. “I suspected you knew this body…” it said plainly. “Nicky, why are you talking strangely? Has something happened?” She held its cheeks. “My lord, you're so cold!” It looked blankly at her. “This is Nicky’s body...that is the girl's name I’m in?” “Nicky, cut out this nonsense! Stop talking weirdly! Look, it's time to go home. Something terrible has happened to your fiancé, Mathu.” “Mathu?” It had flashbacks of killing a man who had killed this woman and had killed many more. “That man…yes, but let's not talk about that now.” It held her hands. “That man you were with…distance yourself from him! The devil's blood runs through his veins! I tell you this for your Nicky: don't go anywhere alone with him. He is dangerous...” It looked deeply into her eyes and saw her shocked expression. “Nicky...I...” It held up its hand. It let go of her hand and walked back into the shadows. “NICKY!!” she moved forward only to hit a wall. It sat against a tree, looking at the sky. “I must distance myself from her…”it said softly. “I wish not to make her think Nicky is a monster. I must finish and leave…” He hummed a sweet tune as he walked into his house. He glanced to see his neighbors, the Dillons, playing in their backyard. He needed a plan. They were always in public, so luring them like the others was not an option. He needed them out of their normal routine. “Everyone likes candy,” he spoke to himself, smirking evilly. He now had a plan. -The End.

“‘Bearly’ Alive” by Abby Klimkowski 45

“Leaf” by Avery Sadowski

Acknowledgements Editors Jennifer Angeles Autumn Pesina Rachel Mullen

Editors-in-Chief Desi Brantley Abby Klimkowski Lily Rizo Cade Zima Jonas Hogue

Kristen Pham, Faculty Advisor

We Extend a Very Special Thanks to: Dr. Steven Koch, Principal The District 155 Administration Mr. Zach Gimm, Humanities Division Leader Mr. Aaron Cummins, Art Teacher Mrs. Amy Bland, Librarian Mrs. Connie Kendall, Activities Director Mrs. Gail Penn Mrs. Bonnie Stanton Mrs. Karen Treadwell Mrs. Allison Petty The Prairie Ridge Humanities Division Charlie Klimkowski, President/Owner of Kwik Kopy Business Center Magazine printed by Kwik Kopy Business Center ▪ 125 S. Virginia St. ▪ Crystal Lake, IL 60014 ▪ 815-459-5066

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