We've Been Watching (2019 Ramona Convent Arts Magazine)

We’ve Been Watching 2019 Arts Magazine Ramona Convent Secondary School

Amanda Melendez

Table of Contents I.

2019 Ramona Writing Contest Winners

“Lemon Tree” by Napaquetzali GutieRuiz “Candy” by Emily Covarrubias “Clean Dirt” by Xienna Yepez “She Knows” by Nathalie Diaz “Summer Rain” by Arada Button “Empyrean” by Andrea Caballero “I (don’t) want green eyes” by Celine Vasquez II.

Collected Poetry

“The Next Wave” by Ali Soto “Unimaginable Beauty” by Montserrat Torres “Pisces” by Ashley Herrera “[Untitled]” by Jessica Quintanilla “Love” by Abigail Ocampo “Arizona” by Penelope Bernal “[Untitled]” by Natalie Cortez “Relationship” by Casey Alvarez “The Place Where the Monsters Live” by Melissa Valenzuela “Spring Season” by Sabrina Solis “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” by Gwyneth Matiarena “Falling” by Ariel Velasquez “You are Me” by Elizabeth Velez “Look Like” by Nadia Ramos “You’re Latina” by Lydia Nuñez “Never-Ending Roller Coaster” by Kayla Urias “Autumn Disney” by Veronica Duarte “[Untitled]” by Nyah Austin “A Feeling I Thought I Lost” by Ashley Ocampo “Moment of Relaxation” by Lilliana Perez “Friendship” by Bryanna Lopez “Blank Painting” by Sara Feng “I Was Once in Love” by Porsche Ocampo “[Untitled]” by Alexa Perez “Bird” by Haylie Zelaya “Alive” by Cyan Granillo “The Light of Love” by Emily Stevenson “mind + soul” by Mya Melendez “Sun” by Mikaela Nickles “Carne” by Samantha Nickles “[Untitled]” by Alyssa Macias-Orgaz “Ode to My Air Forces” by Arianna Gomez “바다Sea” by Jacqueline Gonzalez “The Girl on the Moon” by Elizabeth Miranda “Poem” by Emily Gonzalez “Memory Lane…” by Lauren Knapp

“Dear Mom” by Rileigh Romero “My Hero” by Tina Thai “The Journey” by Jordan Amper “Letting Go” by Leslie Carrillo “Women’s Liberation Poem” by Kristina Ramos “I Wrote this in Math Class” by Alexandra Rosas “Understand” by Anissa Foster “The Journey” by Chelsea Cousimano “[Untitled]” by Allie Herrera “No Turning Back at the Homefront” by Laura Ortiz “Heart of Gold” by Alyssa Villarino “But I Am” by Victoria Romero “Loss” by Ashley Garibay [Anonymous Entry] III.

Short Fiction

“What Only She Sees” by Sophia Chavez “Praeteriti Doloris” by Angelica Jones “Pink Jelly Bean” by Nathalie Koes “Not a Single Snowflake is Innocent” by Arabella Liu “First Snow” by Abby Martinez “Framed or No?” by Wendy Cao “The Hallucination? Or Is It?” by Ashley Biolsi “[Untitled]” by Pearl Agramon “The Almost that Happened to Him” by Hazel Phillips “Sariel’s Fearful Decision” by Paula Zepeda “Chaos Within an Online Community” by Erica Rodriguez “Shooting Star” by Claire Sauter “The Effect of Reality” by Alizé Romero “[Untitled]” by Casandra Bonada “The Odyssey of Modern Times” by Emily Silva “Wasps Bee Ready” by Emily Leyva IV.

AP Art Work Represented Intermittently

Amanda Melendez (cover) Gaebrianne Masayon Elizabeth Velez Samantha Gonzalez

I. Contest Winners

Lemon Tree -

Napaquetzali GutieRuiz

I used to have vivid dreams of lemons, Shiny, savory fruits made into smooth lemonade, That grew in the backyard of an old house, Which sat near an empty park.

Fruits I thought would always stay there, just As I always thought I’d be there forever--in A house that now holds a new family.

But just like the bodies of sour juice, That lay there on the dirt patched lawn --rotting away-I knew that just like the lemon, the Joy and happiness experienced would Just be a warm crisp memory.

Something that never lasted long, and Decomposed as I grew older; Distorting into faded scenes of a Family near a lemon tree, breezes Of warm air carrying the laughter and Tenderness away.

It all fazes out into a bleak shadow; and like the strong lemon tree, Eventually it is gone--cut down.

How does one sing in a raging storm?

Candy -

Emily Covarrubias

If I should love anyone, I choose the man beyond the town.

He walks the streets on Monday mornings like no other – who knew Mondays could be anything other than sugarless because he is the kind of man to quit his day job and hit the road for his own pleasure and the kind to play his guitar in a garden while being the happiest man and I would certainly be the luckiest woman alive to witness it. Even the way he inflates his gum from his mouth is divine.

When I was younger, I was said to be a radiant lover. God, my mistakes have been made and I can see them from a mile away.

Like in eighth grade when I broke a tooth with a jawbreaker, it spoke truth, or when the gum from my mouth stuck to my hair and instead used warmth in an attempt to release my hair from its grasp.

But God made no mistakes with that man, so he sleeps without a care; I might have to be careful, for he is a man I will get cold without.

I imagine that love tastes as sweet as the feeling to being alive at the same time as him, or as sweet as the sugar from my chocolate bar, both giving me the same energy to move forward with my day that will lack him. I hope it tastes As good as I thought. ‘Cause Lord knows, I love the idea of love.

But more importantly know, it never comes and stays but rather comes and goes.

Sometimes, I avoid thinking of tooth decay so I accept the damage and that is equal to what I am willing to do for that man.

He is not sour, he is sweet.

The idea of love is my base and I won’t give up on it because of his candy like face.

Clean Dirt -

Xienna Yepez

Your blood is clean, healthy.

My blood is dirty, salty.

Your eyes opened in a tiled, lit room.

My eyes opened in the house of mi abuela.

By 5, your feet had worn 15 pairs of shoes.

By 5, I'd stolen a bag of 15 apples.

You can paint, play the piano, in cursive.

I can spray, play hide and seek, in 2 languages.

Your ancestor’s history is told for free in elementary school.

My ancestor’s history is a course you pay for in college.

You shake the hand of the uniformed policeman.

I put my hands up to the armed policeman.

I am celebrated as commercialized holidays.

You produce and profit from those commercialized holidays.

You'll find yourself well- represented in social media.

I'll find myself represented in the “spanish-only” section.

It's not that your community is strong.

It's that you've made my community weak.

Your shade promised you power and success.

My shade promised fighting for more with less.

She Knows -

Nathalie Diaz

She knows How to mend a broken heart Much like She knows How to Roll that soft, doughy masa To make those tortillas You love so much.

She knows The exact time You walk in that front door From work She knows when And when not to Ask you about your day She knows you have her heart Tightening your grip with her every breath She knows, But You never will.

Summer Rain -

Arada Button

The sound of waves crashing, and the creaking of the swing on my porch enchanted me as I stood on the balcony overlooking the sea of nightmares impatiently waiting for someone to be taken captive and becoming controlled by the creatures underneath its surface through its timeless, alluring beauty.

Riding my bike along the cliffs, the rain began to drizzle and form puddles reflecting the ephemerality of the green landscape leading into the tranquil ocean below, enticing onlookers to reminisce and relinquish all worries and responsibilities. I took deep breaths of the fresh, salty air as a lone seagull circled above me like a vulture circling the corpse of its prey.

The transition from childhood fantasies to drowning in the reality of the world is blurred and people are told to accept their fate or to wander in hopes

that they will wash up on the shore of opportunity and contentment.

Long ago, I was forced to shed my identity to be reborn as someone conforming to society, to please those who raised me and those I never knew, but I am still lost and wandering this eternal purgatory of lacking individuality and the sight of who I truly am, because the inconsistencies between the two conflicting characters have become obscure.

As each day passes, and the pitter patter of the rain gets drowned out by the loudness of my perpetual worries, I continue to lust after the tempting creature that promises to clear up the mist obstructing my view of the colorful horizon.

Empyrean -

Andrea Caballero

You’ll stay up night after night Waiting patiently, hope slowly rising and falling Following the endless cycle of the rising sun Comforted by the dreary reliability of the ever present stars.

For centuries humans have stared at the borderless skies En velorio, waiting for anything to happen in the empyrean, beyond the floats of cloud, And flashing lights that run like tingling nerves across stormy heavens.

Millions gather to gawk like little children, as the faded faces of the sun and moon cross As if this marks the upcoming end of life.

But nothing ever happens, no harm is done.

We may as well go patiently on with our life, And look elsewhere than to skies and moon and sun For the changes we wish to see within, For the chaos we need to keep us sane.

Now we stare at vacant skies Sitting, waiting, en velorio But not for the empty changes of temperamental skies For the slow, capricious changes of the self.

i (don’t) want green eyes -

Celine Vasquez

For any person in the world who longs to look or be like somebody else: you are you for a reason, and that is a beautiful thing.

I have sun dried tomato eyes, the kind that wilt in the burning red sun.

My hands rub them ferociously back and forth, back and forth, because for some reason I think friction can somehow turn them green.

What manifests this desired hue?

Money, plants, the inside of a two-day old kiwi the essence of life itself, written in ancient scripture.

But green tarnishes, green fades green turns to purple to blue to red to orange to maroon to brown.

Brown.

Dirt, tree bark, a year-old avocado.

I lower my hands from my agitated face as I stare.

I stare how green eyes would, how blue eyes would, how any colored eyes would.

I lift my eyelids down and up down and up, butterfly wings fluttering on a blue day, just how any other eyes would.

My eyes can shed tears, produce rivers, paint dreams just like any pair of eyes would.

I found the same to be of skin color - black, brown, white and the same to be of ethnicity, of race - hispanic, asian, caucasian.

It doesn’t matter about the colored cells that make up the watercolor of your skin, the jumbled accents that make up the tone of your voice.

It doesn’t matter if you have the 15th or 17th edition.

What matters is what you say, what you do, who you are because your inner entity is the one thing nobody can ever take away from you.

Gaebrianne Masayon

II. Collected Poetry

The Next Wave (in the style of Jon Loomis’s “Deer Hit”) -

Ali Soto

You’re eighteen and freedom-drunk, walking down the beach at 5:00 a.m.

Cold, wet sand between your toes, all finely ground by the relentless waves. You don't see the wave till it crashes over you ― pushing you down. You struggle, try to find your footing, get dragged kicking and screaming into the endless chasm that is the ocean. Your body scraped

Unimaginable Beauty -

Montserrat Torres

I found myself walking alone, Far away from home In an overgrown meadow.

The meadow was a glorious Expanse of grass and meadow flowers, The grass rustling gently in the breeze.

As I looked upon the Birds fluttering their wings I felt free watching them Soar through the sky.

With different bright and Vibrant colored flowers The meadow was full of Yellows, oranges, and blues; It looked as a [cemetery manipulated] A painting with such Harmonious, intense, rich, and vivid colors.

Alone I stood, Comforted by the sea of colors.

against jagged rocks, the sand showing you your future when you're ground down by the earth until you're unrecognizable, changed past the point of return.

The water forcing itself down your throat, claiming your air for itself.

You find your feet, push up, and escape your inescapable prison, stagger to shore, safe. You're safe. Safe until the next wave comes for you.

Pisces -

Ashley Herrera

This is the world of the dreamers, the lovers, The gifted, and the misunderstood.

A world in which the past can never be escaped, And where reality is pushed away.

This is where we truly are the creator of our own lives, And where we must move forward.

This is where our flow is important.

Our creative, intuitive, expressive flow.

It is our emotions that create us, And our thirst for dreams and desires that move us.

Knowing the truth is what scares us, But fantasy is what saves us.

We are lovers awaiting heartbreak, Constantly trapping ourselves in our selfmade delusional worlds.

Our emotions are intense, Leaving us confused and exhausted.

We are silent, not because we are afraid But because we are aware.

We are aware that not everybody can be invited Into our world of love and happiness.

We crave new beginnings, And with every adventure comes an awakening.

We crave opportunities that show us our true selves And a deeper view of the universe.

We believe in magic, The kind of magic that enables a happy ending.

We are hopeless romantics, Allowing us to remember that everyone deserves to be loved.

Every day that we live feels like a different life.

We trust our intuition, Leading us to new discoveries of others and ourselves.

Our lives are a never-ending adventure.

We feel intensely.

We are capable of knowing the unknown.

We laugh but we want to cry, And we remember every bit of pain ever felt.

Our creative flow is our distraction, And our love is our drug.

To be happy is what we crave, And to be wise is our forever goal.

This is where the pain is felt.

This is where love is found, And this is where you are free to be yourself.

Welcome to fish world.

[Untitled] -

Jessica Quintanilla

Crumbling, corroding school, Deceitful appearance Inside blinding decor, Gilt-edged tiles sparkle Reflecting glamorous beauty.

Students, Pencil bag critiquing, Like people Judging others, Look only outside, Never inside.

Pencil bag, zip, Completely bare, Contents reveal What truly matters, Deceitful appearance.

Love -

Abigail Ocampo

Love, a word I never quite understood But yet considered something good I witnessed things that others considered love But I never saw it as true love I wandered the world searching for what the word meant But all I found was love misrepresented Than while on my journey I ran into you Someone who stuck to me like glue I tried everything to get you to leave my side But all you did was remain by my side I didn’t understand Was meeting you planned?

Was I supposed to allow this?

What was this anyways?

Than after weeks of questioning you told me you loved me You told me something that made me want to fall to my knees This word that I questioned I finally understood Love was something good It was a feeling that made you feel things you’ve never felt before Feelings that make you want to soar Love was something I was searching for and found And all I want to do is share it around

Arizona (in the style of Jon Loomis’s “Deer Hit”) -

Penelope Bernal

You’re seventeen and your emotions are out of control, swerving your mother’s Prius home at 1 am.

Two-lane road, straight, boring -pitch black desert, sky full of stars, the howling of the wind and coyotes. You don’t see the turtle til it sprints through the air-- road full of eyeballs, reflected headlights in enlarged irises. You pull the wheel, forget which pedal is to break and which pedal is to drive You skid and jolt into crackled desert dirt. Glittering light and screeching car engines blind your eyes and ears until your breath separates from the speckles of turtle like scales in the air. An open can of Arizona had splashed it’s artificial red fluid all over your white clothes. Your chest, shirt are stuck together -- both eyes Dazed and aching old and new tears. The car still running, its lights showcasing a graveyard of life dried grass, hard dirt, and rocks. You get out.

The turtle is hidden, curled up into a ball the same way your cat does when you cuddle him.

Red thumps decorate the worn weak brown shell.

The turtle rotates, broken shell rocking back and forth, Head in, head out like a baby trying to rock itself away from tears. You watch for a while.

It slows, lies camouflaged against the gravestones and here’s what you do: pick up the shell-broken turtle like a mother would. Accumulate dirty sweaters from the trunk of your car, wrap the turtle in its softness and fasten its seat belt. Somehow you are able to catch your breath for long enough to steer the car back onto the road and drive the slowest you have ever driven, night rushing over your head, stars chasing you, rear view mirror fogged up, window covered in red juice, headlights blinding,

side mirror useless. Your eyes swell and something stabs your gut. The turtle ruffles inside the claustrophobic blanket, distant and melancholy. A street light, you’re almost home and the turtle scrambles franticly, its short head sees life for the first time, yet it’s impossible to see the phoenix in the rearview mirror.

It screeches a cry full of pain that rumbles through every single cell in your body and maybe you cry, flail, stop driving til the turtle, exhausted, stops and goes back into its shell.

2 Your mother’s asleep, tired from life and she has seen too many deaths and failures.

You wake her up Christ she says, when you rock her head, It’s Night of the Living Dead. You tell her everything: The desert, the red, the accusing stars, the turtle that you ruined. Outside she circles the car. Your two month old scrapes still decorate the side of the silver Prius Jesus, she says. A long Silence. Nothing's wrong, I’m going back to bed.

She opens the house door and leaves.

You open the car door, hug the quivering turtle.

What can you possibly do?

You didn’t think you’d be able to hurt something so indestructible. You wanted to reconnect the fragments of shell that are falling out-- restore the beautiful body, color the sickly brown with a rich pigment, color the stars black.

The turtle shudders and bleats in your arms.

You’re all alone and carry the turtle slowly up into your room, then cover the broken shell in Elmer’s glue.

Some things stay with you. Watching the turtle slowly die in your childhood room stays.

The glaze in your eye. All your life, the endless reminder of your lost childhood.

[Untitled] -

Natalie Cortez

Oh Sweet creature who need not trees, looks are deceiving but never to this please your kiss lips and big eyes who knew you'd lead me to this surprise.

A creature once so innocent in my brain would have the guts to kill in vain.

Although I forgive you for what you've done, you did not have to be the one.

Mr. Cow Fish, I wish I never met you.

Relationship -

Casey Alvarez

Become whole with me; be my person and never let me go; I want you to talk to me because I'll feel mixed emotions if you don't; I want you to pick me up for dates; I want you to come up to the door and not honk when you arrive to my house; I want you to open my car door for me; I want you to walk on the left side of the sidewalk for me; I want you to open the door for me when we walk into a restaurant; do this because I'm traditional; don't talk to someone and ignore me; don't lag on me when we're texting; just tell me you’re going to be busy that day or moment and I will understand; go out with your friends as long as you let me know so I won’t worry don't drive home and not text me when you get there cause you know I’ll be worried; don't fall asleep without saying goodnight because I'll be sad; don't expect me to do whatever you want; be sure to always be there for me because I know I will; be sure to love as deeply as I will; be sure to cuddle with me at the house because we rather do that than party; be sure to never doubt my love for you; don't walk away because we're fighting; let's work it out and be mature; trust me and I'll trust you because what is a relationship without it; trust our relationship because it is built on it; love little things we do; love the walks in the park; love the Saturday's we stay in; love the cheesy jokes; love the special moments we create together; love me like I love you because in a second it can all be taken away.

The Place Where the Monsters Live -

Melissa Valenzuela

The smell of hand sanitizer hit my face Shaking knowing what next Hearing young children cry, not knowing what's next Nervously walked into the office A rush of fear ran through by body My face pale, my palms clammy Anxious...

The scary lady had a fake smile She walked in with hope in the room filled with fear She asked questions Then walked out My nose still running my hands still sweating And yet nothing was happening Then the door creaked open A short scary lady stomped in Another lady followed in with a metal table It was filled with sharp, pointy, long needles My inner self was screaming for help I tried to stall Talked about school Asked questions Nothing worked Yet the mean lady still tried to stab me The Other lady filling the needle with poison My mom tries to comfort me While I cry in panic I looked down My feet hung over the steps under the bed Thinking what would happen if I kicked Terrified 17 years old I hold myself to a higher standards But that doctors office, brings the 7 year old out of me Finally there done And rewarded me with a cookie monster sticker Ironic yet traumatizing I hate the doctor's office

Spring Season -

Sabrina Solis

It’s that time of year again, sneeze, sneeze, sneeze.

Throat scratching, eye ticking season.

Hot days yet cold nights, spring is here.

Clear skies, tops of trees waving.

Spending most of the day outside, I seem to be intrigued of the beauty, the beauty that I see right before my eyes.

I know it’s bad for me but I keep going back.

The smell of freshly cut grass and the smell of new flowers Nothing but beauty and new life that I see.

But how can it make me so itchy, so miserable yet so satisfied.

Crazy Little Thing Called Love -

Gwyneth Mati arena

I don’t want later on I want soon.

It’s 3am.

Then It’s noon.

It’s the pitch dark night Falling into the early morning sunrise.

I listen to music As I lay on my bed And think of all the memories we’ve created And of how much we’ve both grown from each other.

It drives me crazy thinking Of things like, “Where have you been all my life?”

I start to blush And feel warmth Just at the thought of you.

Falling -

Ariel Velasquez

Falling down Fearing the future The Turning point Where I fail So fragile Yet I treat it Like it’s forever, Permanent.

It haunts My dreams Frightening My Mind Forgetting what I have Right in front Of me.

But failure Keeps confronting My wandering mind So much it kills me

You are Me -

Elizabeth Velez

Block his account; don’t look back; don’t reread his messages; you don’t need to feel sorry; you have to block everyone who broke your heart; block everyone who hurts you, block everyone who thought pity of you; but he did nothing wrong; Delete his number; don’t think twice; don’t memories the digits; you have to delete everyone who never cared for you, delete everyone who deserted you, delete everyone who doesn’t love you; but I want to be friends; don’t go after boys who never gives their attention to you; don’t go after boys who look after other girls; don’t go after boys who look into you as an object; but he never treated me like that; go find a man who has money to spare for you, go find a man who is strong to protect you, go find a man who is educated to give you a lesson; I don’t want to listen to you; if you don’t take my advice then prepare to be a disgrace; prepare to be in shame; prepare to be a mistake in our family; I know the reason of you telling me this; go dress up without makeup; don’t wear short dresses; don’t wear high heels; didn’t you wear these?; be yourself to others; don’t appear vulnerable to others; please don’t easily trust other men; then how would I find the one?; you will never find him; I will not allow you; you have to be safe and sound with me; when will I burst into a beautiful flower like you; don’t become a withering flower because you will approach the feeling of emptiness, the constant void of emotions, and not finding an exit; but I want to be like you: a strong woman with wise advice to help others.

Look Like -

Nadia Ramos

My family tells me “Oh you don’t look Filipino” Your skins too light your eyes too wide That’s all they see But they don’t hear me when I speak Tagalog phrases Or see that I am eating the same cultural food as them Or that my mother is you sister And she is the one that gave me life Her Filipino blood runs through mine And you say I don’t “look” Filipino I may not have your accent Or a Filipino man for a Dad But I am part of this community because it is a part of who I am “You don’t look Mexican” Well what are Mexicans supposed to look like Cause I see different types Some light some dark Some brunette some ginger So tell me how am I supposed to “look”?

Are my eyes too small?

My skin too yellow?

Well open your eyes and your mind Because my father’s Mexican DNA is also a part of mine You say I don’t look like you Whether its Mexican or Asian Or Black or white We all look like one thing The one thing we have besides the color of our skin Or the food or customs that we practice We are all human We are all human beings That live and breath And have emotions and feelings Dreams and Goals So no matter how different we look We are all the same.

And that’s all I have to say.

You’re Latina -

Lydia Nunez

“You’re Latina? But you don't look Latina. you look white” What am I supposed to look like?

A cut out poster of Selena Or maybe a chola with thin eyebrows and thick winged eyeliner I'm sorry i don't fit in your stereotypical mindset of what a latina should look like I find myself in a place where I am to white to be mexican and not white enough to be “white”.

In mexico I hear... “tienes un acento americano” Or “gringa, porque estas aqui” I am told “you're lucky you’re light a light-skinned mexican” Not knowing whether to take that is an insult or a compliment Not knowing where that leaves me which community i belong to Everyday is a different battle I speak spanish on the phone and peoples ear perk up trying to identify where my accent is from or simply being surprised that a “white girl” knows spanish.

I pass billboards on the street and mix up the languages.

People say i don't look latina Problem is that the image and definition of latina has been whitewashed and narrowed to such a thin line that anyone who looks slightly different no longer belongs to “ that category” My identity is not one but two I am latina I am mexican american girl who's heart is in both countries I am the girl who goes to starbucks and gets her pumpkin spice latte And i am also the girl who sits around with her family on christmas eve eating tamales and menudo.

I am the girl who goes to dances and joins mosh pits I am also the girl who dances to cumbia at family parties You may not know who i am but I know who I am.

Never Ending Roller Coaster -

Kayla Urias

Our relationship was like a roller coaster Started off going up when I met you I really can’t explain it I didn’t take a picture but I’ll take the time to paint it.

You know that feeling when you see something amazing see that was you.

I swear to god I almost fainted I can't explain the feeling in my stomach I never knew but as we grew I fell in love with you I lost my mind trying to stay on yours.

I told you I never had a love like this before But you walked right out that door.

The roller coaster went down So fast I didn't even know what had happened.

I felt as if I lost myself now it’s not easy to trust Let it go, let him go not a choice but a must.

He promised me forever but it came to an end.

Giving you all that I got Pouring my heart out to you I trusted you not once but twice Somehow we grew apart….

My mind was full of what ifs I was confused but knew it was time The roller coaster finally ended Couldn't walk, Couldn't think How could I let myself stay on for so long I don't even like roller coasters….

Autumn Disney -

Veronica Duarte

Disneyland Children smile, giggle Young, old, all ages Bronze churro, shimmering sugar grains Chilly, Autumn breeze Sun rays, warm hues Orange, red, yellow Princess, lace, glistening castle Dancing, music

[Untitled] -

Nyah Austin

The day before yesterday, I lost my soccer ball Although I see them everywhere, their just not like mine Blue and orange colors I only dream of Sometimes in the sky, but only when the time is right Rolling across the field of grass To leave me on my knees In the dirt where the roots dwell My thoughts come about as if they live there as well I move to the bench to get some rest Looking at my legs, to compare them but their twins Shaking from adrenaline and work--that battle field The skin that holds the remaining cells Scraped and bleed from the activity involving the ball Fresh cut lawn is what it starts off to be And ends as messed up as thrown laundry This is how it feels to work hard, and to ruin your chance Dedication, is what we strive I mean whatever helps you wrap your brain around it And to get back up When you feel broken down

Suddenly, it is not a ball I am playing with something else It is attached to something living But it can stop at any moment Receiving a message with care But not answering, it isn’t fair Replying with, “I’m sorry, I was busy.”

But really meaning I’m not ready Still hitting send, like I did with my kicks But it is a different side of adrenaline More of a fear that hangs in my heart The one you get, when you know you might be the reason they fall apart Staying up, every thought in my head I can’t play this game Not even for fun, it is just not what I want What I want, is far away I’m in the middle, I wish I could chose a side The line clearly divides Pull me through is what I ask But for you I guess it isn’t a simple task Stuck, no one can help I only control the gears of my life And there I fall again In the same field, with the same play.

A Feeling I Thought I Lost -

Ashley Ocampo

I didn't realize how much you meant to me until you became such a big part of my life.

The more I got to know you, the faster my heart would beat when I talked to you.

I slowly was able to see all the little things there are to love about you.

When I knew I was falling, I found myself slowly wanting more.

I would think about you and I together the thought of holding your hand holding you in my arms what it would be like to call you mine.

You made me feel what I thought I would never feel again the feeling of loving and being loved, the feeling of being safe in someone else’s arms, the feeling of being able to trust someone with everything you have.

I never realized how vulnerable I could be with someone I had just met.

But when I talk to you, it feels as though I've known you for years.

You’ve always known what to say

your words and voice gave me comfort and when I needed you the most, you were there.

The feelings I developed caught me by surprise.

They were so quick and so strong.

I never thought I could ever find someone like you.

Someone who wants to know me more than anyone’s ever tried to.

Someone who doesn’t just want to be better but wants us to be better.

Loving you as I do, knowing you love me back it’s a feeling I didn’t expect again.

It feels too good to be true.

The thought of losing you the thought of you breaking my heart the thought of never being able to find someone like you again scares me.

But the thought of being with you the thought of making you happy and making you smile makes me want to stay in this love forever.

Moment of Relaxation -

Lilliana Perez

As you walk out onto the beach, you feel the sand under your feet, You feel the wind in your hair, and you smell the ocean.

You feel the heat from the sun but still feel the cool breeze the water carries.

Now imagine the relaxation the sound of the waves send to your ears as you lay on the beach.

You in shorts and a tank top or swimsuit relaxing with your loved ones.

As you get your feet wet in the ocean, you can feel the cold water quickly splash against you.

The seagulls fly over you as you enjoy your relaxation.

You run across the sand as you go in and out of the ocean, The sea salt you taste when you get swooped away by the waves.

As you spend what seems like hours in the salty water and relaxing or playing with friends, You hear the sound of what sounds like Tweety Bird from the Looney Tunes.

As you and the others that are with you get closer, you see a dolphin.

You run to grab your phone from your bag, not too far away from you.

You called for help and waited with the dolphin with your friends.

When help arrived you and your friends stayed until all was calm again.

When everything was settled again, you and your friends went back to relaxation.

As you lay there, you think of how there is always something to do.

Relaxation is something people need.

But that moment has passed and after all the craziness, It’s time to go home.

It is time now to go back to reality.

Time to go back to the real world.

Friendship -

Bryanna Lopez

I cut him off. I think he finally felt bad.

She cut me off. I lost respect for myself.

He hurt me so much. He gave me time to think.

She said I hurt her. I gave her time to think.

He didn’t take anything seriously. 2 days felt like an eternity.

I thought we were joking. 2 days felt like an eternity.

He said mean things. I said nothing.

I was just kidding. I said “have you decided?”

We were on different pages. I said “not yet” We were on different pages. I waited.

He made me feel bad. I needed more time.

I was sad. I gave her all the time she needed.

He doesn’t get it, he never did. I decided.

She’s hard to understand. She decided.

He messed around too much. We can’t be friends, he hurt me.

I was only trying to be funny and She ended the friendship.

Laugh with her.

I cried. “I’m going to miss you.”

She said she cried. “I’m going to miss you.”

Blank Painting -

Sara Feng

One day, I received a package with no name on it, But this package had my address on it.

When I opened this package, there was a letter in it. “ who are you” the letter says.

There is a painting at the bottom of this package I picked up the painting Is Blank I stared at the painting for a long time I don’t see anything I can see something I hung it on my wall against my bed because I think it is very pretty At night, when I laid down on my bed I looked this painting and my eyes can not go away from it….

I have a best friend her name is Anna She is my best friend, but from one day We were not that close anymore Anna started no talk to me anymore One day I was sleep at home and suddenly caught fire.

Fortunately, I survived.

But my face was burned by the fire.

Ding-dong This blank painting in front of me again I heard the front doorbell chime.

I opened the door I saw “myself” stand in front of the door I touched my face My face is intact And she said “ Do you know who are you now, Anna ?

“Your face is pretty” “You will look like me soon.”....

Two years ago My best friend is Mary who is the most beautiful girl in our school

Even though she is my best friend I’m jealous of her she is always better than me But from that day on, she is not my best friend anymore I saw her hugging the boy I like Since then, she have been getting closer and closer with the boy I like She took the boy I Loved I will take the most important things from her—her beautiful face I’m planed on disfiguring her face.

I use fire burned her house Even though she survived, her face was disfigured She’ll never be better than me anymore Unfortunately, after that i get an car accident I don’t remember who I am since the car accident.

I Was Once In Love -

Porsche Ocampo

Have you ever been in love like the kind that makes your heart race and the butterflies and your stomach fly have you ever felt like your entire body is on fire heart beating faster than ever stomach dropping and now it’s all dark you’re running as fast as you can, the ignorance of This relenting feeling clotting your bloodBlinding your eyes, not letting you breathe, Drowning you in to the abyss.

I feel like I can’t breathe.

Like the words that I want to speak are being ripped away from me. I want them back but I can’t figure out who has taken them from me. I want to breathe.

I need to breathe. But I am in love.

I do not have an option anymore because it was taken away from me.

Are you the problem?

[Untitled] -

Alexa Perez

Throughout my life I’ve grown up wondering How my life would be like if I ever fell in Love with someone.

I wouldn’t have been a thought Or even exist is someone’s life Would I be the first and last person Someone would think about when they Wake up and fall asleep.

Will I ever be that one person to Fed into your mentality and help You see the world in a more positive Way and look past all the negativity.

Be that one person that they lean of Over everyone else, the first person They think to call when something New happens Be the girl you want your parents to Meet and fall in love with too. And know As well that I am someone that is good for Them and feel safe knowing their son will Be ok.

IRD -

Haylie Zelaya

I feel different things on different days.

Emotions ranging from sadness to happiness engulf my mind.

Sometimes I feel that no one is there that I am alone and no one is ever coming.

Sometimes I feel hopeful like my life is somehow looking up. I feel liberated from the grasp of sadness. I am finally happy.

Feeling trapped in a cage or flying free through the sky My emotions run wild.

As I try to figure out who I am.

Alive -

Cyan Granillo

The rich sand between my feet Sea salt within my hair Waves calmy flowing up the beach Splish Splash My heart keeping me alive Sensation of sand on my souls Calm waves linger Upon the lonely beach The ocean cuts Deep lines along The human flesh Though it hurts I feel alive The sun glistens like the stars The cold breeze touching my bare skin The wind dancing as the birds Am I even alive?

The feeling of peace Was finally beneath My skin once again What does it mean To be alive?

Do we always

Have to be happy?

Happiness is not Forever just like Being alive on this Peachy earth.

The sun slowing Drowning within The horizon just As my heart sinking Now it was pitch Black along the beach And there I was empty As the dark sky One last breath was All I needed to feel Alive within my Own body I walked in the ocean As I put my head in the Water to take my last Breath, I am Alive

The Light of Love -

Emily Stevenson

Shall this beauty be forgotten?

If thy icy blue eyes should see no more And they porcelain skin become pale, Thou shall live on in my memory Visions of a fair and lovely temptress With a voice of silk and honey Tis those auburn locks that I shall think on And those pomegranate lips that I shall kiss no more Thy beauty tis without compare A hourglass shaped goddess in heavenly white The warmest of spirit in the darkest of time ‘Twas only yesterday I last held thee in mine arms And whispered sweet nothings in thine ear Oh how I love thee with all they being Oh how dearly I miss thy perfect smile No longer can I hold thee close But never shall I be able to forget thee For thou shalt forever be mine one and only love

mind + soul -

Mya Melendez

i can’t look at them without wanting to scream. they’re both always arguing about the wrong thing. they used to be inseparable, almost one in the same, but now look at them, staring back at the other, never taking the blame. there’s a part of me that wants to agree, but i never know the right answer and there’s no guarantee. i can’t look in the mirror without wanting to scream because all i see is them. staring back at me.

Sun -

Mikaela Nickles

The shining sun on my face, Brings me joy all throughout the day.

The warmth it gives me, Makes my skin feel all tingly.

When the sun starts to set, I know it’s time for me to rest.

That rest gets me ready, For the new day that is going to come next.

A new day that will be filled, With even more sun.

Carne -

Samantha Nickles

It comes in many forms, barbequed or smoked, fried or slow-cooked, in a sandwich or next to pasta salad, marinated for hours, dressed in sauce and seasonings, raw, medium, and well done, What can all of this be?

Meat.

So what does this all mean?

Carne es mi pasiĂłn, carne es mi vida.

[Untitled] -

Alyssa Macias-Orgaz

How do you know if a tie dye shirt is good or bad?

All the colors swirl together Like a complex story waiting to be unpacked Are they too mixed, confusing whoever looks at them?

Are there enough colors?

Can you distinguish one from another ?

Is there such a thing as good or bad tie dye It’s all doing the same thing Taking something simple and plain Twisting it around Adding some color And creating something new Something colorful and hopefully confusing My tie dye shirt is beautiful

Ode to My Air Forces -

Arianna Gomez

Ode To My Air Forces O squeaky clean sneakers, Who come from the great swoosh.

How pricey art thou leather, In which fit my abnormally small feet.

The sneakers that make me walk funny and carefully in order to prevent those hideous crease lines from showing.

Oh, how I would die to keep those beautifully woven pearly white shoelaces without a speck of dirt‌ How I love the new heights you take me to.

My sweet Air Forces, I will forever cherish and take care of you, for as long as I can keep you clean...

바다 (sea) -

Jacqueline Gonzalez

i stand on the sand, an endless stretch of desert. i’m parched. the sea is my only option to quench the thirst that claws at my throat. i make my way towards the endless water. i reach out for just one sip, but the water pulls back. i follow it far out, far away from the shore. i struggle with every step i take. my feet sink into the warm sand, but i push forward, still craving one sip the wind blows sand into my eyes. i rub at them, tears flowing, desperate to regain my sight when i finally open them, i see clearer. the sea was never real. it was all just a trick of the eyes, a mirage. i should’ve turned back, when the water first pulled away, but it’s too late now. i’m thirstier than ever, and i’ve gone too far out. the heat succumbs me. i lay down on the warm sand, the very sand that i once so desperately fought against, and i finally let myself sink in.

The Girl on the Moon -

Elizabeth Miranda

She stares at the moon every night, the moon shined its light on her broken heart.

The moon hated seeing her broken and he wanted to fix her, but she didn’t see that.

She was just the girl on the moon.

Poem -

Emily Gonzalez

There was a girl named funny girl She makes the one close to me smile And She made me feel denial so I cried on the bathroom tile With the water running over me with marks of blue and black liner Rolling down my cheeks to me knees to give me a reminder of how I will never be part of friendship, like those others Oh I hate how I will never be funny girl but she always seems to take away the ones I first called my forever flowers Yet it’s been told green isn’t a pretty color on me it bleeds from me through mouth and ears I wish I could stand outside of me nd yell “why can’t you be normal for once please” she can do why can’t you be I tag along after them at parties and dances hoping I’ll make me happy, for at least a little while But after a while I feel awkward, so my back eventual hits the walls title And that’s why it’s not a perk of being a wallflower

Memory Lane…

-

Lauren Knapp

What a strange place to be It starts in elementary school I see younger me quiet, not speaking her mind I want to yell at her for not speaking up I want to tell her that those girls aren’t worth it To not pay attention to them Don’t worry about her, focus on them They are your friends They care about you They’ll be there when it’s impossible Then it travels to junior high A new school A school where everyone already knows each other You know her But if I could tell you how it ends between you two, You wouldn’t be friends with her anymore.

A year into a new school You’ve found your voice, your music You’ve found your speed, your races You’ve found a boy…

But just like her, if I could tell you know how much it hurts, You wouldn’t keep talking to him Graduation.

You miss those few friends from the first school And you’re going to miss those from the second We finally make it to high school What a rollercoaster

You’ve learned things about your wild heart that you never knew You’ve discovered new music and stories Pursued your passions But you still struggle I can’t choose My singing or my running?

I could never choose I’m not smart enough I’m not fast enough I can’t sing well enough You’ll face it all She doesn’t talk to you anymore, even though you’ve reached out You still like him and he likes you…

Maybe it could work And it does for a little while But your heart will still be broken in the end Move on.

You’ve found a place that you love You made friends who believe in you Who pursue the same passion as you They become your closest friends, But don’t forget who will be there when it all feels impossible They never left your side I want to scream at younger me, tell her everything that’s to come But she’s so young and full I won’t ruin her untroubled, untouched, creative mind She doesn’t need these insecurities, And now that I think about it, Neither do I.

Dear Mom -

Rileigh Romero

Dear Mom No ones perfect No family is perfect Everyone’s different in their own ways Everyone believes in what they want to believe in I was able to have an amazing childhood I thank my mom for everything she’s done for me I want to make her proud But I’m scared I might fail her I want to buy her all the things she deserves But I’m scared that I won’t be able to My mom is my best friend I tell her everything My mom knows all my secrets She also knows some of my friends secrets I’m able to trust her My mom's amazing But other people could differ She’s done mistakes in the past I mean who doesn’t Everyone’s past is different and Everyone’s goals are different My mom’s past wasn’t the riches She dreamed of getting something she didn't have in the past She worked long and hard When she had me She promised herself to give me the best life she could She didn’t want me to ever be sad But sadness is a part of human nature I’m blessed because my life was never truly difficult When my mom cries I will start crying She’s moved mountains before And won’t stop until she is pleased I wish I’m able to do the same for my children In the future

My Hero -

Tina Thai

I don’t know what to say.

I don’t know what to do.

Everything seems to be disappear, when I am with you.

All my thoughts, pains and fears vanish into the air I breathe.

My heart fills up with warmth, allowing me to smile with ease.

I know I could always count on you.

I know this is cheesy, or maybe a little weird, but everything I said here is true.

I can’t imagine where I could be now without a wonderful hero like you.

The Journey -

Jordan Amper

I’ve been on this journey for 11 years.

I’ve cried and laughed with you.

I’ve watched you fall and get back up.

I’ve witnessed you triumph battle after Battle even when the odds were stacked Against you. I grew up with you by my Side and will be forever grateful to you For showing me how to be strong and how Even in the darkest times there is always A glimpse of hope. This is the hardest Goodbye and I’m sad to see you go But in life all journeys must come to an end.

I love you 3000.

Letting Go -

Leslie Carrillo

Losing a friend It’s not the best feeling Especially when it's a close friend A best friend Somebody you considered a sister It feels as if you lost a huge part of your life Well you probably did At least that's how I feel But I realized Friends come and go It hurts It hurts a lot Especially when coming across a memory both of you shared And it hurts But then realizing that your friendship ended for something dumb Something you couldn't control Yet you still got mad And didn't even bother to listen And that's how our friendship ended Were in high school Something we wanted to go through together But sadly we aren’t The first friendship I lost Was with you And I guess that’s our “Memory of high school together” But the more I think The more I realize Our friendship was toxic Controlling someone isn't part of a friendship Well not to me So I guess it's a good thing our friendship has come to an end Now I don't have to second think the things I do I don't have to think if your approval is going to be “okay” I can be myself I don't have to be someone somebody else wants me to be I can be me I know who I am

And what I want to do So maybe losing a friend can be a good thing You learn I learn We both learn From our mistakes From other people And you see things in a different way We both went our separate ways We both made new friends Let's hope these stay If not it's okay Cause we learn more And hopefully move on And keep moving But at the end of the day All that matters to me is that you are happy And I hope the best for you

Women's Liberation Poem: -

Kristina Ramos

At five years old, she was told she was only capable of cleaning the house At ten years old, she saw her brothers going to school and work and wondered why she couldn’t At fifteen years old, she was told her only job was to get married and have children At once, she put her foot down and decided enough is enough She was done being treated as if things were too tough She gathered her things and decided to go against To school she went, and did her best The men that surrounded her put her to the test Little did they know that she was capable of more The rights of women are nothing to ignore This was only the beginning of women rights, and to that she swore.

I Wrote This in Math Class -

Alexandra Rosas

Words only have meaning if you let them If you know them If you feel them Contextualize Let me know how you feel Tell me how you feel Anything but silence Words are tumbling out of my mouth Prematurely, impatiently, Begging for a purpose, But finding none, In a jumble of missing vowels.

They’re missing limbs My pencil scrawls across a page Lazy and fluid Cotton covers the wheels Interfering with the creation of new cloth Drown me in the linen Cool and smooth Free me from the tangle of cotton Soft to the touch It makes me lethargic Softens my resolve Stuffs me with confusion

Understand -

Anissa Foster

It’s probably too late for apologies now.

I won’t deny I look for you.

Someone can never just disappear.

At least that’s what I thought. now it’s too late to say “I regret.”

There is only the late-night thinking and the ocean of tears that keep me floating, even though the weight of it all, is pulling me down.

The pictures in my camera roll.

The birthday cards hung up along the wall.

The gift card you gave me, still in my wallet.

The photo booth pictures in my shadow box.

I understand now, but I won’t accept it.

The Journey -

Chelsea M. Cousimano

The journey is a road filled with rocks and pebbles, It has speed bumps and stops signs preventing you from getting ahead of yourself.

Sometimes it will have brick walls and steel walls that you have to push through, It will even have the occasional person to throw you off the road.

The journey is also filled with incredible things, It is filled with the family and friends that will be there for you through everything.

The journey will be filled with the flowers of love and the rainbows of happiness, It will teach you life lessons that will change you for the better.

The journey will be filled with tough love, It will teach you hard lessons and pick you back up.

This road will have obstacles and solutions, It will also contain the good apples and the bad apples of the same tree.

Your path won’t be perfect, You will be brought down.

But what’s important is that you stand up, No matter how many times the road will try to trip and block you.

Never be distracted from your goal, Work hard and at the end of your journey will be a soft green meadow waving in the cool breeze.

[Untitled] -

Allie Herrera

Time is something borrowed, something lost, something never to return.

Time is sand, slipping through the hourglass.

We all run out of time, out of sand.

As much as we beg, we can never get more. Time is cruel, and unforgiving. We’ll never get back the time that we all desperately need.

No Turning Back At the Homefront -

Laura Ortiz

They're coming! They're coming! Stay put and stand guard.

I watch in terror while blood seeps into the cursed soil.

Soil that was once used to cover new life and now used to bury the short-lived. I hear the souls creaking and screaming while a thump to the ground follows afterwards.

While the fear soaks into these veins and makes itself well known to me. The ground is shining with terror as each bullet case is unveiled with every step I take.

My uniform stained with sin that is mostly not of my own.

This sin penetrating the cloth and now resting on this body that feels like a hostage. I look up to see what type of weather it is today but as we know here, the war has made its own forecast. Gloomy, dark, and cold ash.

The only light that we have seen here is the fire from bullet showers and the drops of hope that have helped us to continue. I try to calm myself but the idea is soon pulverized by the man next to me that has dropped to the dirt and used his final few breaths, where almost every man it seems will end up by today. “Go fight in the war!�

They say but little do they know what pain that follows, little do they know what destruction has occurred, little do they know what anguish and regret that we all have felt here.

Why have I come here to cry? to weep? No sir I have not, I have come here for victory.

Heart of Gold -

Alyssa Villarino

I am old enough to know, that your heart is a rock.

Our love, a broken gate, no longer intact.

The hope I had for us, is absent.

But, I am bonded to you, to the stars in your eyes.

I miss you,

our burned out love.

Our everlasting love.

Love is light.

A chaotic thing.

I cling to the hope, of your warmth.

Your warmth, is slowly dimming.

But your heart, is gold.

But I Am -

Victoria Romero

I didn’t understand.

What’s feminism?

Sexism?

Representation?

Cultural appropriation?

Ageism?

Homophobia?

I didn’t realize.

I didn’t realize the ignorance I had been living in. The ignorance I was being taught.

I am a feminist: someone who supports the advocacy of women's rights on the basis of the equality of the sexes.

I have inherent disadvantages. One directly from my father. I am a girl who has to fight to even prove she’s woman enough to be called a woman. Who has to fight harder to prove she’s equal to a man. Who has to fight even harder to prove that sometimes, she’s better than a man because she is. Not because she’s a woman, but because of who she is -- and that’s not sexist.

But I am also someone who supports the advocacy of equality among the races -- which there really are none (but for time, because we don’t have any) I will say races because that is the understood colloquial term for people that haven’t been given the time to name themselves on legal documents.

But I am also someone who advocates for the respect of cultures. Cultural appropriation is not the same as cultural appreciation. I identify as a Chicana. My people are Mexican. My culture is rich. Unless you are my people, you cannot adopt our fashion, our speech, our lifestyles. We are not trends.

But I am also someone who supports the advocacy of equality for all ages. I am young and I know what struggle is. It may not be the struggle of an older woman or another person my age, but that should not invalidate my feelings or my circumstances. I am here and I am real. What is happening to all people at all ages affects us all so differently -- why should age discredit that?

But I am also someone who supports the advocacy of equality among sexual orientations -- or the lack of sexual orientations -- and gender identity -- or the lack of gender identity. The LGBTQA+ community has been around for centuries. I stand with them.

I understand.

I understand that everyone should be a feminist.

I understand that sexism hurts everyone, women and men.

I understand that I feel less invisible with representation.

I understand that cultural appropriation is never appropriate unless appreciated.

I understand that ageism does not help anyone, young or old.

I understand that homophobia, xenophobia, racism, and all the other -phobias and -isms are out of ignorance.

I am a woman who like so many others has soaked in ignorance so long that it is hard to air out the stench, but I am trying, trying, to learn.

Loss - Ashley Garibay Can you imagine a pain so deep down inside That it cannot be explained in words A pain that makes your toes curl And makes your stomach twist into knots.

You can’t eat, you can’t sleep, you can’t think That is the pain I am feeling But my parents raised a strong girl Or so I thought this pain isn’t expected It just hits you And then the pain is so strong that you feel utterly alone Nobody understands The doctors, the police, and the people Say that you are dead and gone But it still feels like you are here.

I could pick up the phone and you will be there It cannot be true You were just with me and now you are gone It doesn’t make sense How could this have happened.

People say the usual, “He’s in a better place” But you weren’t old, you weren’t sick You were a healthy seventeen year old

This shouldn’t have happened You deserved more, You deserved a full life You deserved kids You deserved to graduate As I walked into first period, I looked around the room.

A voice was echoing through my head Everytime the door made a noise, my eyes opened in anticipation I waited to see you walk through the door, But as class continued, the empty seat haunted me I felt you there, I heard your voice Then I woke up, and realized you were never coming.

It’s okay to cry, it’s okay to miss you, Your bright smile, and your sweet laugh Just know I’ll never forget you Or how you were.

This isn’t a permanent goodbye, I will hold onto our memories As I sit crying, wondering, who would you be today Until this life is done

-

Anonymous Entry

I had a dream about you about your big eyes and your little hands about your big smile and your little toes and then I had another dream about you you were laughing you were playing outside with the flowers you were running and running chasing little bugs you found and then I kept having dreams about you and then I kept having dreams about you and then I kept having dreams about you and I don’t know if I want them to stop and I don’t know if I want to forget but I do know you’re okay now and so I’ll try to be happy and I’ll think of you being happy and I’ll think of your big smile and your little toes and I’ll think of you playing outside with the flowers and I’ll think of you

Elizabeth Velez

III. Short Fiction

What Only She Sees - Sophia Chavez Charlotte walked home from school alone, as always. Her Jansport backpack weighing down her small skinny frame. She wore a purple faded cap covering her large glasses to avoid any contact with the outside world. As she continued walking, no one, not even the most curious soul, was turning her way and seemed to leave a clear path for Charlotte. Honestly, she did not mind at all and enjoyed the solitude that the world sometimes gave her. She was the quiet type, almost like she was hiding something behind her black, tangled hair, dark-rimmed glasses, and even darker thoughts.

No one ever really knew who Charlotte was, and most didn’t even know that she existed. She was not like everyone else, of course, it's not that she was weird, she just wasn’t as popular as everyone else and she didn’t want to be. She mostly lived a life of isolation, having no friends at all and only talking to herself and naturally, the voices in her head. Oh, those voices always had something to say, whether it was cruel, or useful, they always had something to say.

Nothing ever seemed right to Charlotte who always kept a frightened, wary eye toward the cruel world around her and the cruel people that surrounded it. Every small sound she heard, every insignificant light that blinked was subject to her full attention and worry. Although she did not have anything to worry about, being that she was in the safeness of her house, what she was worried about was her strong-willed mind, her cruel, cruel mind that continuously played tricks on her. No matter where she was, or what she did she always had the voice reminding her that everything wasn’t ok, that she would never do anything right, and that she was never safe. It happened frequently but she would never get used to it, no one could ever get used to a thing like that.

Once Charlotte got home on that gloomy dark day, she sat on her bed with covers that probably hadn’t been changed in months. She slumped down in her bed and stared at the ceiling and the hole that always seemed to get bigger every time she looked up at it. While she lay on her bed recounting the events of the day, although nothing much had really happened, and it never did, she heard voices, the voices, that played in her head, “Why are you laying down, there’s no reason for you to feel safe, here.”

Charlotte tried to ignore it and continued to think about her day, but then another voice joined in and said, “What, you think you can get rid of us, ignore us, believe me, that won’t be possible?”

Charlotte continued to stare at the hole in the ceiling, but a chill ran down her spine when from the small hole, she saw what appeared to be a wisp of black smoke. That small black wisp of smoke began to get larger and larger as the hole had somehow always done before. Charlotte quickly closed her eyes and told herself it wasn’t real, and when she opened her eyes, the hole was back to normal, and the smoke was gone.

Charlotte, now with more caution than ever, walked toward the kitchen to where her dog, Alabaster, lay asleep snoring soundly; his curly snow white hair just waiting for her touch. The only thing that ever consoled Charlotte was her beloved dog Alabaster, who seemed to understand her more than anyone ever would, just one lick from his small pink tongue was enough to make her smile, something that she never did otherwise. As she leaned forward to pet him he quickly jolted awake, his small legs rising with an alertness that Charlotte had never seen before. He began to bark wildly and out of control as if there was something around them that Charlotte couldn’t see. “What’s wrong boy?” Charlotte said, her voice shaking, “Is there something in here?” Charlotte said as her body began to shake more with every bark uttered from Alabaster’s snout. Suddenly the dog went quiet, and it felt as though a cold breeze of air had filled the small kitchen where they were standing.

Charlotte sat on the floor holding her knees as the dog approached her slowly and began to lick her tears away from her already tear stained face.

When the strange day began to come to an end, Charlotte decided that she would take a shower to clear her mind and walked to the bathroom through the dimly lit hallway, expect,

somehow the hallway seemed larger than it did the thousands of times that she had passed it, and the more she walked, the longer it seemed to get. Her footsteps echoed throughout the hallway and maybe even through the whole empty house. Charlotte stopped in her tracks when she again, felt the cold chilling breeze brush past her this time so strong and powerful that it lifted her black hair. She turned around quickly only to see that there was nothing there, but when she felt the cold breeze again, she looked up to see the black wisp of smoke that she had seen in that now dreaded hole in the ceiling. But this time the black smoke became more of a wispy black figure that began to descend from the ceiling. Charlotte quickly closed her eyes again and pinched the inside of her wrist to make the figure go away and she repeated the words, “it isn't real” countless times in her head.

When she finally opened her eyes, the figure was gone and she was now at the door of the bathroom, still shaking, her eyes wide, and her jaw dropped.

That night, Charlotte lay awake, staring at the hole in the ceiling, her mind racing with the voices still echoing in her head, “You can’t sleep tonight, you're not safe.”

“Oh shut up, you always say that! I’ve had enough!”

Charlotte replied in a fearful voice clutching her old covers near her chest. The voices continued on and on and Charlotte just wanted to make them stop. They finally finished speaking saying, “Oh you just wait and see. Don’t believe us? Don’t say we didn’t warn you.” Once the voices stopped, she fought herself even though her eyes were closing, to stay awake and not have to face the fears that she was reminded of. At last, she could withstand no longer, and her eyes heavily shut, enveloping her in what she dreaded most at the moment, sleep.

Charlotte jolted awake as a she felt a scratch on her leg. She opened her eyes quickly and fearfully, but only saw her dog wide-eyed and waiting. The dog cocked his head to the side and Charlotte knew what he meant. As she walked through the kitchen she placed each step more carefully than the last. As she heard her footsteps creak on the wooden floors that must have been there for centuries, she looked back to make sure no one was following behind her steps and looked up to make sure there was no one above her either. The dog tailed behind her silently, watching his master do what she’d always done before. As Charlotte made it to the back door, she thought it would be best for her to stay inside while her dog ran in the yard. She watched the dog through the window although he just looked like a white figure without her glasses. She stayed watching him a second but had to turn back in an instant. She felt something. Something ominous, just like before.

And when she turned back this time, she saw the figure again. She turned towards the window, not making a sound, and told herself it wasn’t real like she had done, time and time again.

As she looked out the window she didn’t follow the figure of the dog but now Charlotte looked up, at the tree branches and although she did not have her glasses, she saw it clear as day, the figure, once again. She blinked in hopes it would disappear, but soon, she heard barking and saw the dog, or the figure of the dog, bark at the figure in the tree. The figure began to make its way down slowly. Closer and closer to the dog. Again and again, she repeated in her head that it wasn’t real and she closed her eyes to make it go away again. The voices couldn’t be right, not this time. But when she opened her eyes all she could do was let out a scream of terror as her dog had disappeared.

She ran outside screaming and calling but there was no more barking, no more sound. There was nothing there anymore as she looked for the white figure of the dog.

“What do you want,” she called out but there was no answer in the despairingly quiet night.

She pinched the now bruised inside of her wrist like she always did, and closed her eyes which were burning with tears, but nothing happened, she was still standing in the cold empty yard with tears running down her face.

The night's silence was broken by Charlotte’s screams as she fell to the floor in tears. She looked up at the dark purple, starless sky with her dark empty mind and red teary eyes. “Please, not this time!” Charlotte screamed, “Don't let it be true!” but it was too late.

She’d put her head down for a second but when she lifted it she arose with a lick on her face. The dog or the white figure of the dog was sitting next to her.

“Alabaster?” Charlotte screamed, but when she tried to touch the white figure of the dog, it turned into a white cloud of smoke.

As she looked up, the white figure turned into a larger figure only growing by the second.

Charlotte’s screams filled the air and shook the earth beneath her feet. This time she saw the figure standing over her a grin on its coal-black facade. This time Charlotte didn’t scream but charged at the figure, head on. “What do you want from me!” she said tears still running down her face.

As they circled each other, the figure grabbed her with its claw-like arm hoisting her into the air like a cloud of black smoke lifting her weightless body. All she could think of at that moment was that this was it, this was the end of her miserable life, and that it would all be over soon. Instead, the figure rose into the sky and somehow disappeared from sight taking Charlotte, or all that remained of Charlotte, from the cruel earth she lived in.

Although no one seemed to notice or care very much, Charlotte was never seen again or heard of again, and it was as though Charlotte was just a figment of everyone’s imagination. And it was almost as if a girl named Charlotte never even existed at all.

Praeteriti Doloris -

Angelica Jones

“I Camelia Montgomery, swear to never lose hope for a better future.”

All of my life has been a series of traumatic events. A few years after I was born, my father, Maxwell Montgomery, was sentenced to prison for 30 years. After his absence, my mother, Claire Binsworth, decided she shouldn’t have to wait for him. Although I don’t remember all of her abusive boyfriends, I remember a significant few.

I will never forget what happened on June 16, 2007. I especially will never forget the horrified look on my mother’s face that day. As I walked inside of their room, her boyfriend, Terrell, pinned her against the wall. I caught eye contact with him and without a second of hesitation, he welted her in the stomach. My mother screamed in agony for me to call the cops, so I ran into the living room and dialed the numbers 9-1-1.

Approximately 7 minutes afterwards, the cops arrived and arrested Terrell. He said he’d get revenge, but I haven’t seen him since.

Seeing Terrell do that to my mother made my stomach curl. My hands were sweaty and I wasn’t sure what to do afterwards until my mother told me. There is not much I can say how I felt that day except that I was afraid and confused.

Some time afterward, my mother began to work both day and night in order to put food on our tables and clothes on our backs. And like I knew she would, she found another boyfriend. His name was Marquis.

My mother would leave us with him to babysit a lot of the times. We were sometimes left with him for 2 days straight. Everything was going fine, until my brother Finny and I realized he wasn’t really paying attention to us anymore. From days on end we were left in an empty room watching the same movie over and over again. We didn’t want to tell our mom anything because we were afraid of him ever finding out. So we just stayed quiet, everything was okay until he started being aggressive towards us. If we did nothing wrong we would be punished with a belt to our bottoms.

After a couple of months, we moved in together. However, I seldom saw Marquis or mom at home. Until one night I did. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be up late, but I couldn’t fall asleep. From my room door that gives a view to the kitchen, I could see that Marquis and mom were arguing. I could hear him asking her “Where do you think your going?” and grabbing her. She repeatedly told her she wasn’t going anywhere, but he didn’t believe her. When suddenly they left from my view and I heard a scream and then the garage door close with not a sound to be hear afterward.

I quietly walked to the garage door hoping I could get a clue to why my mother had screamed. I found it, but I wish I didn’t. I found a long hair extension that my mother wears. It was lying there with blood and skin attached to the top of it.

Immediately I knew that Marquis pulled out her extension. As I cried in sympathy for my mother’s pain, I walked back to my room and fell asleep.

A while later, they acted as if nothing had ever happened. Until they got into another argument. My mother wanted to leave him, so she moved into her own apartment. It was a shame my mother did not know enough about him to know that he would soon get revenge.

My mother, my brother, and I were about to back out our driveway a few days after their breakup, and Marquis showed up. With a surge of anger raging through his arms, he threw a tray table at the glass covering the back of the car. The table landed into the back seats where me and my brother were sitting in our carseats. Finny and I were shocked about what had just happened. As we remained seated covered in glass, we didn’t say a word the whole time.

Mom got out of the car and began yelling at him. They soon got back together again.

One day, Marquis took Finny into the restroom to give him a bath while I watched a movie. As I was watching it for the 20th time, I heard water splashing wildly. I continued washing the movie, positive it was just Finny playing around when the next day, we took a trip to the doctor. Finny had a broken arm.

From what I was told by my brother, Marquis was trying to drown him and as he was pushing him underwater, he put too much pressure on his arm and drowned him.

My mother called the police and told them what Marquis had done, but by the time they reached his apartment, he was long gone. He had run away and was never to be seen again.

Yet, I Camelia Montgomery swore to never lose hope for a better future. And in the end I found peace. I found peace in studying hard in school to get a better future and my mother saw this too. She transferred me into a private school where I began to thrive more and more. I found a new person in myself that I didn’t know was there. I put the past behind me and promised to never look back. I found hope for a better future.

Pink Jelly Bean -

Nathalie Koes

Laughter. The sweet, ever warming sound of laughter.

Fiene blinked blankly, lost to the world around her as her mind ran fuzzy and vacant of thought.

Her vision was spotted in white, due partly to the fire burning in front of her, though mostly by the trance she was caught in. Its fluid movements were enticing, and Fiene could not bring herself to look away just yet. She was completely oblivious to the blague presented among those around her, not having seen their bodies rock back and forth, and not having heard their titters in the slightest.

Slowly recovering from her spacey state, Fiene blinked away the stamps of light on her eyelids and looked back to her peers. From where she sat alone on the log, the female was unable to properly see everyone’s faces, what with the smoke and tendrils of fire covering them for the most part and leaving shadows where the light would not reach. Like this, their figures almost blended into the dark forest behind them.

Releasing a huff of air from her nose, she re-positioned her seating and stretched out her arms. The bonfire flickered and danced in front of her, warming her outstretched hands, though

missing her cheeks and leaving them uncomfortably cold. She regretted having left the muffler at home for the boys.

Someone to the right of her was in the midst of sharing a story to the crowd. Fiene merely watched the person’s gestures, tilting her head slightly and trying to make sense of what the other female was saying. Her struggles were recognized soon enough, as another girl seated next to the storyteller immediately signed a weak sorry, before mouthing something in the direction of the speaking student. Fiene could only assume that she had asked for the story to be retold from the beginning, but would never know for certain. Being deaf had many downsides.

A nod from the storyteller later, and the story was signed to Fiene in full: “On a long, dark road is a long, dark path.”

Oh, a scary story it seemed. By looking around at the others listening, they too appeared rather unimpressed with the tale’s beginning.

The storyteller continued, and the girl translated.

“At the end of the long, dark path is a lone, dark house.

And the lone, dark house has a single, dark door.”

A useless bit of information, but Fiene couldn’t help smiling exasperatedly.

“Behind the single, dark door is a long, dark hall.

At the end of the long, dark hall are some tall, dark stairs.”

She folded one leg over the other. A very repetitive story, but interesting to her nonetheless.

“At the top of the tall, dark stairs is a big dark room.

In the big dark room is a big, dark chest.

In the big, dark chest is a small, dark box.”

From the corner of her eye, Fiene saw the speaker pause before bursting out the following part of the story. She, of course, was left without the audible surprise, forced instead to opt with the girl’s hand motions in translation.

“And in the small, dark box, Is a pink jelly bean!”

The translator rolled her eyes.

“Scary, isn’t it” Fiene on the other hand, smiled, clapping along weakly with the story’s end before signing her own message to the storyteller.

“That was a very entertaining story. Thank you,” The girl who had signed for Fiene translated the message back to the story teller, of whom huffed and a shrugged in response. Whatever she had said during those motions was promptly translated back.

“She says it was a kiddie story from her childhood,” A glance back to the storyteller. “In my opinion?

That’s just an excuse for her bad storytelling” Fiene saw the translator’s shoulders rise and fall in what she assumed was a small chuckle.

Smiling in reply, the redhead moved her hands to her knees and stood, stepping over her log and sending a message to the girl translating.

“It’s cold so I think I’ll brush my teeth and sleep. Good night everyone,” Turning away before she was able to see anyone’s reply, Fiene stalked off to her tent in the darkness, picking up only her toiletry bag and heading towards the bathrooms in a collected manner.

It was spine-chillingly dark as she walked down the gravel road on her own, having neglected to grab herself a flashlight while at the tent, and instead relying upon the light of the restroom in the distance and the half-moon’s illumination of the path in front of her. The bathrooms weren’t all too far off, merely located a few yards outside of the campsite chosen for the teenagers. A bad choice on part of the coordinators in her own opinion, but Fiene wasn’t one to complain. It was nice being able to stroll down and look at the trees.

Turning her attention upwards, the girl silently marveled at the number and clarity of the stars here, going so far as to pause in her trek and stand there in awe. She took a few steps backwards to move a stray branch out of her line of sight, and eventually turned around slowly so as to take in the fullness of the sky above her. It was dazzling.

Once she stopped spinning, Fiene attempted to turn her focus back to the road ahead, but found instead that she was facing the forest rather than the restrooms. Under any normal circumstance she would have thought nothing of it, and might have moved along with her task at hand without any hitches. This however, was different. Something struck her as odd with this section of the forest.

Curiously, the girl stepped off of the gravel road and onto the dirt, looking down at her feet as they moved between the two grounds, though eventually averting her gaze back into the forest.

Whether she was imagining it or not she couldn’t tell, but it seemed as though the trees were separated just enough to create a clear and clean path between them.

Fiene couldn’t remember having seen it here before.

“On a long, dark road is a long, dark path.”

Without so much as a glance back to the road, Fiene began to walk down the makeshift path in front of her, eyes travelling back and forth between the trees as she proceeded forward. Overhead a bat flew past, though Fiene was oblivious to it in full. She had neither heard, nor seen it.

It was quiet. Quiet as it had always been for her. Though the leaves on the trees shook in the light breeze and her feet struck the dirt underneath, neither sound made it to her ears or awareness.

Fiene only walked straight forward in her blissful ignorance, hands held loosely at her sides, and eyes focused on the path in front of her.

She walked for a few minutes, then walked for a few more. By the time she came to her senses and started to wonder whether she should turn back or not, Fiene had lost complete track of time. It was only then that she realized she had fallen into another one of her dazes, unsure and unable to remember why she’d even begun her journey in the first place.

The toiletry bag she had been holding before had long since fallen from her hand.

Stopping in her promenade, Fiene shuffled around and looked back the way she’d came, her expression calm, yet concerned. The road was nowhere to be seen, and the forest’s horizon had instead been replaced with trees upon trees upon trees. The path that now lay in front of her extended straight into said abyss.

Turning back around with her brows furrowed in uncertainty, Fiene looked up to the path in front of her once again, only to jump back instantly and gasp in horror.

Instantaneous and undetected by her, she was now standing on the front step of an old, dilapidated house.

No light seemed to filter through the tall trees onto it, leaving the grey, two story structure dreary and desolate in appearance. The space around it felt eerily empty, and its overall strange vibes were furthered by the pure silence Fiene was experiencing its discovery in.

This, she had most definitely not seen before.

“At the end of the long, dark path is a lone, dark house.”

Swallowing down her jitters, Fiene took in the door mere inches from her face. It was painted black, though small sections seemed to have chipped off and left the dusty wood beneath it

exposed. There was no peephole, and there was no knocker, only a rounded, jet black door knob to her right, stationed just above her abdomen.

“And the lone, dark house has a single, dark door.”

Looking past the door to her right and left, the girl found that there was a small window on either side, shrouded in a white curtain and facing out to the forest as though silently watching any passer-bys. It was too dark to see anything within.

Turning her attention back to the door, Fiene raised a fist and rapped at it mindlessly. She had only realized what she’d done by the time the door creaked open from the force of the knock, and took a single step back in fear of something within. Nothing but a light breeze of cold air met her cheeks within those few moments of wait, of which prompted the female to push the door open warily and see what lay beyond.

There was no living room or dining area to greet her, only a still, dark hallway that extended further into eigengrau. On the sides of the walls were closed doors that likely led to rooms of the house, all painted black just as the front door, and all waiting like soldiers, still and lifeless. No frames of photos hung between them, and neither did any outlines of pictures that might have once been. The ceiling too displayed no signs of ever having harbored lights, whether by lamp or by lightbulb. This particular detail struck Fiene as odd.

“Behind the single, dark door is a long, dark hall.”

Despite having stepped inside in carefully, her foot bounced slightly on the wood underneath. To any other than her, there would have been an evident creak that escaped the floorboard. Keeping her eyes peeled and her gaze forward, Fiene continued to walk straight, soon reaching the end of the hallway and the set of stairs that lay there. They were illuminated only by the dim light from the door behind her, and a small glow from the top step.

“At the end of the long, dark hall are some tall, dark stairs.”

Fiene looked up at the staircase in front of her, her vision narrowed and her fingers tapping the sides of her jeans lightly. It was steep. Very steep. What was to be found at the top she could only assume to be another room, though this time with an open door. The faint glow that came from the top aided to guide Fiene as she stepped forward and began to climb up on her toes, though it was most certainly not enough light to brighten the walls that closed in around her shoulders.

Her right hand fell upon the railing along the wall, gathering dust and splinters as she continued forward. Fiene paid no mind to it however, much too curious and entranced by what lay ahead to care in the moment.

What she discovered once reaching the top was, as expected, a grand and open room.

“At the top of the tall, dark stairs is a big dark room.”

Stepping into the room and gazing around, Fiene found that the light from within came from two windows; one found on her right, the other on her left, and both without curtains or blinds. Only the leaves and trunks of the closest trees outside could be seen through them, the rest of the forest darkening behind and turning pitch black.

The room itself was rather bare, lacking any accents, accessories, or appliances. The wooden floor here was just as splintered and dusty as the hallway, and the grey wallpaper that lined the room’s sides curled inwards at its corners.

The only item of interest here to find was the single, wooden chest that lay centered against the far wall of the room.

“In the big dark room is a big, dark chest.”

Fiene walked forward calmly, kneeling before it and picking up the iron lock on the latch with her hands gingerly. It appeared to have been left open and unlocked.

Removing said lock and placing it down next to herself with a thud, the girl pushed open the wooden chest fluidly, looking into the darkness within before reaching in with her arms and pulling out whatever her hands would grab.

What she placed on her lap next, was a small, jet box.

“In the big, dark chest is a small, dark box.”

It was very simple a box, rectangular in shape, tiny in size, and lacking of engravings or decorations in general. It harbored no lock or latch, only two exterior hinges on the back, and a fine line that separated the top from the bottom.

Fiene held it with both hands carefully, placing her thumbs right underneath the top on the corner, and looking down at it with a blank expression. She hadn’t realized she’d forgotten to breathe until she inhaled sharply, holding her breath for a split second before letting it go and blinking slowly. Then, ever so carefully, she pushed open the box.

“And in the small, dark box…”

Was nothing but an interior lined in dark red suede.

Fiene’s expression contorted into one of confusion as she lifted the box up to her face, peering in with uncertainty and craning her neck to get a better view. She had expected at least some item to be within; maybe a ring, a key, A pink jelly bean.

Then, without warning, the room grew cold.

The walls around her began to contort with a strange, undulating darkness, and she caught herself falling dizzy and off-balance, despite being in the midst of kneeling. She shut her eyes tightly and shook her head in a slow and delayed fashion, biting back the tears that formed as her eyes seared in a tired pain. In response to this soreness, Fiene’s mouth began to salivate.

Suddenly, a fuzzy sensation crept up the soles of her feet, slinkling its spindly hands around her ankles greedily, and shooting up through her legs and into her body.

The girl frantically pushed herself back and onto her feet, paying no attention to the black box as it fell, and no mind to the staircase behind her. A few rushed steps later and Fiene felt the ground beneath her vanish, letting out a brief scream before beginning her tumble downwards. Her body repeatedly struck against the chipped wood, and scratched itself terribly as she fell. Her dark orange hair wrapped around her face and covered her vision, keeping the girl from properly grabbing hold of the wall or railing in order to catch herself and stop her descent.

Luckily however, the fall didn’t last all too long, as she soon landed with a loud and hardy crack. The wood underneath had caved in from frailty and splintered into her right arm.

Fiene however, spent no more time in the ditch than necessary, and pushed herself out with whatever strength she could muster. A second thud could be heard as she fell forward onto solid wood. Still, the girl did not stop, and stood herself back onto two shaky legs before running down the hallway to the best of her ability, her breath growing heavy and her heart pounding frantically with newly instigated adrenaline.

Out the door and onto the trail she’d come from, Fiene continued to run, grabbing her right arm with her left and applying pressure to the throbbing wound as her legs strained against the dirt.

She did not know if she was bleeding yet, much too focused on her sprint to think about any injuries she might have suffered from the fall.

It was only when the road came into her line of sight that Fiene began to slow her pace, the pounding of her heartbeat dimming and the heaviness of her panting lifting.

And only then, in the silence of her panicked and pained pause, did she realize she was hearing her own breath as it drew in and out.

Not a Single Snowflake is Innocent -

Arabella Liu

It’s early in the morning, and it’s hazy in the alley. A girl and a boy are coming out of the alley on bicycles. The girl is called Yuki. Her father is dead, she lives with her mother, who is always mean to her, her family is poor and her life is also poor. The boy, whose name is David, has a opposite life with Yuki. His parents dote on him, his father got a good job and made a lot of money, so they are going to move out from the alley. However, God makes two people who are completely different met each other and have stories, they grew up together, and were classmates since elementary school.

Yuki is bullied in school because of her family and her strange personality. Unlike David, who is really welcomed because of his good-looking and excellent grade. In a gloomy afternoon, Yuki is in charge of cleaning classroom, but after she has finished her tasks, she found that her backpack disappears. She almost searches the whole school, and finally finds her backpack in a shallow and dirty river at the back of the school. Yuki walks into the river and tries to get her backpack. At that time, Peter comes and sees this scene occasionally, and thinks that Yuki is going to suicide, so he runs into the water and pulls her up. Peter is an outgoing boy who is at the same grade as Yuki and David. After Yuki explained her purpose to him, he feels embarrassed, but this is also the beginning of their destiny. At the same time, David is chatting with another girl called Emma, who is the twin sister of Peter. They are talking about an upcoming competition. This is the beginning of their destiny.

After that day, Yuki starts to spend more time to hang out with Peter, and David starts to spend more time to stay with Emma. Peter teaches Yuki to fight the people who bullied her, he protects Yuki from the school bullying. David and Emma are always staying and working together to help each other, as well. Over time, David and Emma fall in love, and Yuki and Peter become more closer, too. Everything seems to become bright and better.

It’s Christmas and Emma’s birthday, Yuki is hanging out with Peter as usual. When they are playing excitedly, Yuki receives a message, which saying that, “If you are David’s girlfriend, come to the back side of the school, David tells me to give you something.” Yuki doesn’t pay attention on this message and forwards it to Emma. At the same time, Emma just gets out of the school. After she received the message, she starts walking toward the back side. However, the accident happens, Emma died at that day. The message is sent from a girl in Yuki’s class, who falls in love with David secretly. Yuki is suspicious because of the message. Everyone starts to look Yuki as a killer, including David and Peter. Others starts to bully her again. No one helps her and protects her now.

In a gloomy afternoon, there is a ripple on the sea, there are hundreds of people stand on the seaside. A girl just jumped into the sea in front of these people. A boy followed him. It is Yuki and Peter. When Peter finally pulls Yuki up to the seaside again, her body is already cold and stiff.

Nobody can escape from the responsibility. It’s easy to say a word like “killer” to others, but it’s not easy to withstand the hurt of the word.

Not a single snowflake is innocent when there is a snow slide.

First Snow -

Abby Martinez

The roses I’d been clutching so closely to my chest hit the ground with a dull thud. I stared blankly at the starry sky above me as the deep crimson petals scattered among the sparse blanket of snowflakes on the dirt - the wrapper containing the roses causing a small cloud of dust to form as it hit the earth. No longer able to contain myself, I inhaled a sharp, quivering breath full of the frigid December air surrounding me. It was not long before a familiar knot began forming in my throat, accompanied by a burning sensation surrounding my steadily increasing hot eyes - all signs warm tears would be streaking my rose colored cheeks in a few moments. My heart is pounding a thousand miles a minute - but is it from the scene I just witnessed? Running so far in so little time?

Or was it from not only witnessing that scene, but being caught watching?

My heart aches at remembering it all, my now ex-boyfriend had just taken me out to dinner, he even reserved the evening just for me - today was the day the magical First Snow was supposed to happen, and rightfully so, it did. He knows how much I love the First Snow - not just the first snowfall of the season part, but the loving legend that surrounds it - and how badly I wanted to spend it with him. He had taken me to a wonderful fancy French restaurant. We were seated by a vast glass window, the glimmering city lights surrounding us as the sky transformed from a powerful golden burst, to a tranquil deep sea blue as the sun was laid to rest, and an ethereal-looking, glowing moon made an appearance. On the inside of the restaurant, idle conversations rang out throughout the room. The distant sound of a live piano and violin duet playing in the background did nothing to diminish the rising anxiety I felt being surrounded by everyone - the wealthy and powerful; whose every stolen glance and hushed whisper made one think the people in this room were talking about you. Perhaps even pointing out how one might not belong. Soon, our meals were brought out. I was in such a hurry to leave, I kept my head down and ate my food quickly, not bothering about stolen glances any longer - so long as I could escape the suffocating room. However, he wanted dessert. I must admit; although it looked luxurious and promised a sweet and savory taste, I could taste no such thing. Most likely because I was intent on getting out of that horrible room. After we had our dessert, he had given me a lovely bouquet of deep red roses. I should have known… He had been growing distant the last few months, and today, after we said our goodbyes and shared a parting kiss - something neither of us knew would be our last - we turned to leave each other. Or so I thought. I had let out a long sigh as I did not want to go home just yet, for it somehow felt like the evening had been wasted, and we had not spent a proper time out enjoying the First Snow. I wanted to walk with him for a little while longer. With a smile gracing my features, and roses pressed as close to my heart as they could be, I decided to turn around and run back to the street where we parted - my heart beating happily in anticipation of what was to come, paired with my uncomfortable heels clicking along the cement sidewalk with every quick step I took, and my hair beginning to fall from its earlier secured place atop my aching head, but I didn’t care. Because I would soon have my arm linked through his as we walk beneath the navy sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of another snowfall - seeing as this First Snow did not blanket the ground in white, as it had done the previous years. However, I would soon see that my dreams were naively imagined. Because he was not there alone. My once happily beating heart began beating for another reason entirely, my breaths had been short from running, however now, they were short because of the scene before me. His arms were around another woman’s waist - her long and nimble arms falling where they had been around his neck. I could easily see that there was something missing from him. He did not have his coat on. Instead of the fine long black coat, the one I had given him for his birthday, protecting his broad back from the chilly winter air, it was shielding this strange woman from the weather, leaving his back exposed to the harmful elements. Since the temperature was so frigid, not only could I see their pale faces pressed close to each other, but their every breath as it mixed, brushing against the other’s scarlet tinged cheeks, and lingering before vanishing into the air surrounding them. Then he moved his hand to caress her dainty face, and she accepted it, leaning into his touch. What had previously been a heart beating in suspense and pain, was now a heart shattered. When their faces were about to get

even closer for what I could only imagine would be their kiss, I had unintentionally taken a few steps back, striking my awkward heels against the pole of a metal streetlamp. The dim yellow glow emitting from that bulb could not have looked brighter to me, than in those achingly slow moments.

Not wanting to yelp from the pain, my free hand that was not gripping the roses so close to me, instinctively flew to my pink colored lips - cutting off a gasp threatening to escape. All while the metalic sound of metal striking metal pierced through the now silent night. When I saw they had stopped in their tracks and now turned in my direction, I knew it was over. Not just my little stakeout either, but my relationship with him. The last words I heard him tell her sealed our fates, “Oh, it was just that woman over there, it’s nothing, let’s go.” Then they turned and walked away.

Feeling my knees shaking uncontrollably from the intense run I had just been on, I knew I would be on the ground, along with the roses and their scattered petals in a couple of seconds if I did not do something about it. However, feeling knots forming in my throat, my eyes stinging and growing increasingly hot with every passing second, my heart absolutely shredded into two, as well as the pain in my legs and in my right foot, how could I deny my legs any further of the rest they so demanded? Not even bothering to extend a tired arm out to the railing beside me, I was almost ready to let my limp figure fall to the cool earth beneath me. When suddenly, a pair of arms came out from behind me, encircling my body and catching me before I could hit the ground.

“Hey - what happened?” A familiar, masculine voice asked me. I knew him. He had been by my side this entire time.

I met both him and my ex at the company where we work. However, while my ex may have gotten me, this guy stood by my side and made sure I was okay - in all aspects of the word. He may have thought it best to keep his “secret” emotions to himself - but that longing gaze whenever he looked at me, how he would have a melancholic air about him when he would converse with my ex and I, those daggers my ex and he would regularly shoot each other whenever I was sad, how he was quick to come to my aid when I was in need, or how my ex’s mood quickly soured when he would enter a room, never went unnoticed. After a while, I began to piece things together for myself, but never said anything to either of them. I was happy with my ex. But God forbid he find out I ever met with the man who currently had his arms around me, without him present. All hell would have broken loose if my ex found out this guy and I conversed - even if the conversation would be to tell him that I knew how he felt, and he could move on. Also, knowing this guy, he could never just ‘move on’ - for it was a concept foreign to him.

Not being able to bring myself to respond to what should have been an easy question, I simply shook my head, letting a sob break through my quivering, cold lips. All the tears I had been keeping at bay now began to roll down my cheeks, and stain the earth beneath us. Why had I suddenly burst into tears? Was it because I just seen my ex a few moments ago with his arms around another woman, and now this man had his arms around me? Was it because just a little while ago, my ex’s lips were on my own, and possibly about now, they were on the lips of another woman?

Was it from the warmth this man was providing me with? The warmth that I had been longing to feel? His concerned tone and quick movements (both things my ex lacked)? Or was it simply because I had been pining for strong arms to comfort me when I needed it most, and now I finally had them? Attempting to steady my shaking form, my hands desperately flew to clasp over his strong arms (almost as if begging him not to leave me alone), while heaving another trembling sigh deeper than the ocean.

“Shh…shh…shh…Hey, do you remember that one thing I told you the first time I found you sad?” He began cooing to me. Knowing he was trying to calm me down, I quieted my sobs and listened closely to the words he spoke. “‘And remember that no matter how dark your day was, the sun will always shine tomorrow.’ … I know this is gonna sound creepy, but I remembered it. You know… Just in case you ever needed to hear it again. Also, I can’t ask you to remember something if I’m not gonna try to remember it either. That wouldn’t be fair. Anyway, I know that when you’re hurting, it feels like it’s never going to end. But try not to bottle it all up inside. Alright? Now, do you wanna sit down somewhere and tell me about it?”

At some point while he was talking, he took off his coat and put it around me. He was good at getting me to relax. No, the truth is that he has always been good at getting me to relax. The way he lowers his voice to a quiet whisper, yet audible enough that I can hear him over my weeping…he makes it seem like the rest of the world can’t hear him…like I’m the only one who matters…like I’m special. But why does this time feel different from all the others? Could it be because I have his coat around me? Is it because something is different? Is it me being available this time? Do I want that to be the reason, or am I forcing myself to see things that are not really there? Like my past relationship. I realize now that at least the start of the relationship may have started with love, but as time continued to slip through our fingers; we allowed our love to wither and fall before us. Was it my fault for denying myself the knowledge of what I already knew? Is that why we fell apart? Maybe I had already known that we were not in love anymore - maybe I already knew I was no longer in love with my ex - but I still forced “love” between us. I had a bird that longed to be free. I’d clipped its wings, forced it into a cage and wanted to make it mine. At the same time, I had another bird willing to be beside me - but I turned it away and ignored it, calling it nothing more than a “good friend” - should I really have his coat around my freezing body, sheltering me from the glacial air?

Should I really be leaning on him right now? Do I even deserve it? No. Hell no. I don’t deserve to jump freely into his arms and tell him why I’m crying. I don’t get to tell him of my problems. I have not earned that right. And I know for a fact, that I have sabotaged myself from ever having that right ever again for as long as I may live. I know myself better than this. I could have easily kept everything inside until I got home, so… why couldn’t I this time? The questions taking form and whirling around my mind were too much for me to handle, so all I could do in response to the poor man’s questions was nod as best as I could, stifle a few cries that yearned to fall from my trembling lips, wipe the remaining tears from my puffy, red eyes and manage to tell him that I would talk to him on a nearby bench.

As it turned out, there was no nearby bench, so we turned into a park instead (as the distance between our current locations and both of our homes was too far, so we couldn’t go home and talk there). Of course, the reason we strayed so far away anyway was because we were so immersed in our conversation to even notice where we were. We talked about absolutely everything and nothing at the same time. Although, he had commented on how my feet must have been aching from my heels, and how my head must hurt from being in a complicated updo, albeit now messy.

To resolve the issues he had correctly pointed out, he bought me some warm, comfortable slippers from a still open vendor, and massaged my head (after I let my long hair down from its earlier confinement) - he even carried the bag that contained my heels and the roses. Even though I continuously protested against it, he kept insisting that he should be the one to carry the discarded items, because he was “a gentleman” - whatever that meant. He had tried to make me laugh many times, and each time he was successful. Although I had tried to give him back his coat more than once, insisting he was going to catch a cold and die if he didn’t take back the coat. But all he did was simply turn my own words back onto me, saying he would never forgive himself if something happened to me. Eventually, I managed to get him to take the coat, because I was so worried - but he insisted we share it instead. Of course I could not argue with him - for there was no winning that battle; as he had proven earlier, I could not win against him, so we settled on sharing the coat instead. The side closest the road, his right - was covered by the coat. He had his left arm around my shoulders as we walked, my face beet red the entire time, and the left side of my body in the left side of the very large coat. For the duration of our walk, I had mostly forgotten about everything. I could feel the joy course throughout my veins, and demand to be shown through all my actions and features; my bright smile, the bounce in my step, the genuine laughs that escaped my lips, I felt the light rekindling behind my eyes, and when I spoke - my words seemed light, easy, genuine, and not forced at all. It wasn’t until after we entered the park, that we found a little wooden park bench partially covered in snow, and a few feet from under a tree. The front part of the bench was facing a fountain surrounded by a few flower shrubs, trees, and of course, pavement. We ran our hands along the wooden seat of the bench to remove the snow, then we sat down (still sharing the coat), and began discussing the events of the night.

“So he took you to a fancy French restaurant, gave you roses, he was gonna let you walk all the way home by yourself, at night - when your home is so far away, might I add. Then you caught him with another woman, because you wanted to spend some more time with him and he coldly ignored you, obviously cheating on you with this other woman, so…it’s over?”

“Mm-hmm. Yes, you got it.” I confirmed, sighing as I looked up to see that the dark curtain of night was still over the cityscape, the lights from the buildings blotting out some of the stars that were supposed to illuminate the sky alongside the bright moon. However, the moon itself is starting to disappear. Not from the urban lights, but because of the clouds that have settled overhead.

“Obviously he doesn’t know the first thing about you.” He stated, much to my surprise. His posture began to relax as he sank into his side of the still very cold bench, his arms sliding over to cross behind his head, his feet nearly knocked over the bag he’d placed between them, on the floor.

While he might have began to relax, my body certainly did not, as it jerked from its previous slouched position looking up at the sky, and had now fully turned to face him in pure shock as I asked, “Huh? What do you mean?” My heart began to pound in anticipation of what his answer could possibly be. Could it be…?

“Well, for starters” he interrupted me, “ you hate fancy restaurants. They are the bane of your existence. If anything, you’d much rather prefer to go to a humble family owned ramen shop even if it’s just a little wooden shack. And that’s the fanciest you’ll go. Sometimes you prefer something quick and simple from a convenience store, or sometimes you just want some fast food which isn’t entirely healthy for you, might I add.” He nonchalantly said, turning his head slightly to see my reaction to that last statement - with a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Haha. Just because it might be true, doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen to you.” I sarcastically stated, crossing my arms and pouting while turning away from him.

He let out a laugh, and extended a hand out for my chin to make me face him once more.

Surprisingly, his hand was not that cold. It was actually kind of warm. Unless, of course, my senses were getting numb from being outside all this time, and his hand was freezing…but I was too numb to notice.

“Hey, okay, I’m sorry. But it’s true. Heheh- Hey…Your cheek is freezing. Come closer, or else I’ll be talking to a popsicle.” Wearing a look of genuine concern, he beckoned me to come closer to him. At this, I slid closer, but apparently that wasn’t enough, so I had to get even closer.

Eventually, he just told me to not be shy and to lean on him. I knew he wouldn’t take anything else for an answer, so I was left with no other choice but to get so close to him, that I could feel his breath rolling over my frozen cheek, and hear his heartbeat.

“Okay. I’ve listened to your command. Now finish what you were saying.” I demanded in feigned annoyance, hoping to distract him from my cheeks that were red because of embarrassment, and not the frigid winds hitting them.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. So where was I…?”

“You just finished saying how I eat so healthy, and don’t like fancy restaurants.”

“Oh! Okay. Thanks.” He said, sending my pulse to spike as he looked at me with a cute little smile. Ugh. I could FEEL my cheeks getting redder.

“MM-HMM! Yeah. Sure. No problem.” I rambled, biting my lower lip. Struggling to hide my embarrassment, I settled for burying my face into his broad chest, and clutching his shirt with my hand.

“Heh. Okay, anyway. Out of all the types of food you prefer, ‘French,’ is definitely not one of them. In fact, if you don’t have to eat it, you won’t. It’s not that you don’t like it, it’s that you don’t prefer it. Also. That idiot gave you roses? Ugh. He seriously doesn’t know you. Sure, you like roses, and they’re pretty and stuff, but they’re not your favorite flower. You think they’re too traditional. Actually, to say you think ‘roses are cliché’ would be a better way to describe how you think about roses. Your favorite flower is a ‘Sweet Pea.’ A sweet pea is your favorite flower because it’s really delicate and requires attention. Like SOMEONE I happen to know.” He teasingly said, looking at me with another smirk playing at his lips.

“Knock it off!” I exclaimed, hitting him lightly over his chest.

“Okay, okay! I will. I’m sorry.” He said while laughing. How could he look like a little boy while laughing? He looks like the purest angel in the world when he does it. …But his teasing words remind me more of a devil.

“Okay. Continue.” I state, satisfied with my victory, as I lay my head down on his chest again, and begin listening the the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Alright. Anyway. But really though, Sweet Peas are your favorite type of flower, and you love them so much because they have special value to you. To you, they’re different, unique in a weird but good way. They’re delicate. And they can only flourish if one dedicates enough time and attention to them. Also, you wanted to spend more time with him not just because you were lonely, or because you wanted company, or you were scared about walking home alone - it was so much more than just wanting to spend time with the person you love, even if in just silence. To put it in simpler words; you wanted to go out today because it was the First Snow. And it’s a legend that you’ve always loved. You would get really excited about it every year. You’d practically squeal and throw yourself at the huge window in the office every time it would snow, always screaming something like ‘It’s the First Snow!’ or ‘It’s snowing!’ Honestly, there is nothing purer in this world, than seeing that little display you’d put on every year. I even found myself looking forward to it, and marking my calendar til the First Snow, just so I could see your adorable reaction.” He chuckles and shakes his head a little, reminiscing, before continuing. His eyes have a soft tint to them, they’re full of affection, and they’re focused solely on me.

“Anyway, the legend you fell in love with, goes a little like this; There was a snow queen in love with a man. But they could only ever meet when it snowed. The man waited for his beloved every year. And he would get really excited everytime the weather grew cooler, and clouds formed.

This was because it was sign his love would be coming to see him. On the day of the First Snow he always met her at their usual spot, right there, right where that fountain is. He ended up proposing to her, and vowed to take her away so they could get married. She happily agreed to this, but she knew what they must do first before getting to spend eternity together. They shared a kiss, and she turned them into snowflakes as this was how she travelled. Also, it was an easier means of transportation so they could get where she needed to take them. They floated away into the breeze, preparing to embark on their long journey to be together, forever. So, if you spend the ‘First Snow’ with someone, you will be with that person for eternity, and true love will be with you two forever.

You love that kind of stuff, so it makes sense why you two would go out today. Also, if this guy has been blind enough to be with you for so long, and has not taken note of any of that, or even caught on to how much you must have wanted to be with him, then he’s a real idiot. Also! He seems to be more like an ignoramus to me if he A: went against everything you liked on this ‘date,’ B: didn’t realize how you must have felt, BUT aside from that, if he was willing to let you walk home alone when you live so far away from where your date took place, AT NIGHT, apparently he’s stupider than I thought. And I’m sorry, but I get really concerned about you walking home alone at night. I mean, come on, I wasn’t stalking you or anything, I SWEAR I was just in the neighborhood when I saw you running past me. I recognized you, and even called out to you, but you didn’t hear me. I was concerned about you, so I ran after you. You didn’t even notice I was even there, until I kept you from falling. What if I was someone else? Someone not good? I-I don’t even wanna think about it. Moreso, if he was willing to ditch you, a diamond, for some other woman, a rock.” He says, all while caressing my now tangled, cool, damp hair. My hair is so rough and tangled from the events of tonight that I can’t help but wonder why he’d want to be touching it in the first place.

I’m so impressed with everything he was able to accurately say about me and the legend of the First Snow. He’d gotten everything right, down to the finest details that I can’t help but say it out loud: “Wow… Okay, I’m not gonna lie… that was impressive. You got everything right.” Was everything I was stupidly able to say.

As if somewhat surprised about my answer, he looks down at me, and immediately replies (without missing a beat), “Of course I got everything right. I love you.” His eyes stare straight into mine, as if searching for an answer hidden deep within my eyes. I feel them widen at the sudden confession.

From the surprise of it all, I find myself only able to stupidly open and close my mouth, momentarily going mute as I hang on his every word. “…My God, I can’t help it. I’m trying to be sweet and loving here, but if you keep opening and closing your mouth like that, a frozen fly is gonna buzz straight into your mouth, and you’re gonna eat it. Then you’ll have fly breath.” He says with a stupid snicker plastered on his face, trying his best to suppress a laugh. Ultimately failing.

“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to kiss you after a fly flies into my mouth, then you’ll have fly breath too.” I said, turning away in a huff, with furiously red cheeks. …However I soon realized that I wasn’t the only one with red cheeks.

“Sh-shut up. You’ve overused the word ‘fly.’ It’s lost its meaning.” When I heard how much quieter his voice had gotten, my head bolted to see his face. And wow, was it red.

“Hehehehehe! Look at those blushy cheeks!” I squealed, teasing him…and getting my revenge for all the teasing he put me through earlier.

“Knock it off…” He whines, turning his face away and letting out an embarrassed puff of air. “…Fine.” I reluctantly give in. After he’s calmed down, he turns around to face me again, and with a tiny smile on his lips, he says: “Okay. Let’s continue this, shall we?”

“We shall.” I smile faintly back at him, as I find myself at ease and once again anticipating his next words as he takes in another breath. “ I love you. And because I love you, I’m going to pay attention to you and remember everything about you. In fact, everything I learn about you is so fascinating to me, I can’t help but want to memorize it. It might sound weird, and kind of stalkerish, but hey - this is about you. And when it comes to anyone on the planet, there is no one else I’d rather memorize everything about, than you. There is no one like you. To me, you’re worth learning everything about - absolutely everything; your likes, dislikes, fears, hopes, dreams, hobbies, favorite color, sport… everything.

Even though I know the answers to most of those categories I just listed, I would still love to learn more about you. And I swear I’m not trying to be creepy or weird - I really hope you don’t see me like that, by the way - I just listen to you when you talk to me - because I listen with the intention of learning, not for the intention of looking polite. I’m genuinely in love with you. My God, I’m so in love with you.” He says, so completely serious that I almost forget to breathe. Suddenly, he takes my hand and puts it directly over his heart, while saying, “You feel that? You feel how fast my heart is beating? You make it go that fast. You wanna know something else about that heart? It beats only for you, and you own it.” Looking adamantly into my eyes, he says one more thing. “Hey, so I know you just got out of a relationship a few hours ago, and I know you must have all these doubts and questions swirling through your head, and I might seem like a huge, colossal jerk to you for asking you this - and it’s okay to say ‘no’ - but, would you give me a chance? An actual chance with you. It doesn’t have to be right away. And I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait however long you need. For you, I’d wait until the end of time if you asked me to. I’ll also help you make this pain go away. I promise, you’ll never feel that pain ever again. I can’t give you a time limit for when everything will stop hurting, but I can guarantee that it will all stop. So…? What do you say?” Now, he looks into my eyes pleadingly, begging me to say ‘yes’ to him. After expelling a long sigh from my lips that leaves my lungs feeling cold, I look up at him and respond: “Okay. I’ll give you a chance. BUT it’s going to take some work. Let me get my emotions sorted first. I would hate to jump into a relationship with you while I’m a mess, but you’ve got yourself in order. Think of it as though we’re courting each other. Like how people used to do a lot.

You do know what that is though, right?” I tentatively ask, biting my lip, waiting for a response to the odd proposal.

Immediately his face lights up as he says, “Of course I know what courting is! And I’m all here for it.”

Then we draw into the first of many hugs, feeling each other’s warmth as the cold air blows past us. When suddenly, glacial flakes begin to fall freely against us. When we look up, we can verify

that it is snow. Feeling a smile breaking through my stiff, frigid lips, I look up at him, and he says through the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on him.

“It may not be the First Snow from that old fairytale you wanted to see with that other guy, but this is the second snowfall. And I’d like to think that the same legend applies to at least the first three snowfalls. Then again, the first snowfall shouldn’t really count as the ‘First Snow’ - since it didn’t really cover the ground in snow, and you kinda missed it, since you were suffocating indoors.

But this one actually looks like it might blanket the ground in white. So, how about we count this one as ‘First Snow 1.5,’ but it would still have the same effect of the legend? Will you let me have your First Snow 1.5? And hopefully all of your eternal love?” How could I say no to that adorable request paired with that boyish smile of his, and those pleading eyes?

“Honestly, that face you’re making right now should be illegal.” I say, throwing my arms from their previous position around his torso, to around his neck.

“Look who’s talking. You’re the one who committed a crime. You’ve stolen my heart, remember?” He says with a hint of a laugh as he hugs me back.

“Yeah, but now you’ve set out on your own mission to willingly AND knowingly steal mine.”

“And I’d better be the only one to succeed in doing so.” He says, all the love in the world packed into his gaze as he tenderly focuses on my eyes, and my eyes alone.

We may be having a little banter now, but the words he leaves mute are silently being communicated to me in the gaze of his soft brown eyes. And I receive their message.

Framed or No? -

Wendy Cao

[During the Qing Dynasty of China, the emperor could have several wives. And all his wives tried hard to strive for his favour, they even do immoral things towards others.]

Ella, a beautiful lady, has been the most favorite wife of Jason for several years, thus nearly all the other wives envy her a lot. Although they often pretend to treat Ella friendly in front of Jason, they actually hate her.

Gradually, those jealous women set up a team to defeat Ella, Linda is the head of the team.

One day, Skye comes up with an idea to frame Ella. “Everyone knows that Ella had been lived in the temple for couple of years, and she came back to our palace when she found that she was pregnant. Jason was so happy at that time, that all the people only congratulate them.” She says with proud, “However, have you ever think about how she get pregnant so easily living in the temple without Jason? Her child, Jack, must be other’s kid!” June definitely agrees with her and says, “Great, I know that Steven always comes to the temple, we can say that Jack is Ella and Seven’s son!” “Oh Yes! One of the nuns there is my friend, I can ask her to help us as well!” They quickly make such a decision, and begin their action.

First of all, Linda’s servant comes to tell Jason’s mom that Jack is not Jason’s real son.

Although does not believe her, Jack’s mom begins to feel bad about Ella, for she might have betrayed her husband. Then, Skye gives Cindy a lot of money, and tells her to lie, to say that she has saw in person that Ella and Steven have slept together for many days. Even though Cindy does not want to lie, she still does as Skye told, for the large amount of money. After that, June writes a letter to Ady, the nun, about their plan, and also says that if she helps them to frame Ella, she will receive

whatever she wants. Without doubt, at that time, nearly everyone wants wealth more than honesty.

Everything seems goes well, they are so excited to start this “wonderful” plan.

As soon as Jason’s mom knows that, she calls Jason, tells him how bad Ella is. Jason, who loves Ella so much, does not believe it at all. While, since his mother tells him this, he decides to gather all his wives, including Ella, to demonstrate that Jack is his own son.

They soon gather at Ella’s house, Jason first asks Ella seriously that whether Jack is their kid or not. Hearing this, Ella feels so bad because she never thinks that Jason will doubt her. She then answers surely “Absolutely yes!” Soon after that, Cindy and Ady come, they both point out that Ella is not telling the truth. “We, saw in person, that Ella and Steven slept together!” “They even act as a couple!” “ What’s more, Steven cares about Jack so much, although he always excuses that he is their doctor.” Hearing all of these, Jason becomes super angry, he hits Ella directly. Ella is upset. To further frame Ella, Skye comes up with an idea, “Words are useless and powerless, only scientific demonstration can say the truth! So why not do blood test!” Ella suddenly feels nervous, since Jack is she and William’s son!!!” She’s not nervous when everyone doubt her and Steven, while this time, she feels actual anxiety. What if they test and get the result that Jack is not Jason’s son? What if Jason gets angry with me? What if I was killed because of that? After a moment, she comes up with an excellent idea! Because she knows that everyone doubts her and Steven, no one doubts William at all, soif she demonstrate that Jack is not Steven’s son, no one will doubt her again. She soon says her idea, to respect her, Jason agrees.

The servant of Linda brings some water, both Steven and Jack drop their blood into the water, to Ella’s surprise, their blood dissolve together, which means that Jack is Steven’s son!

Everyone’s shocked, Jason can not be more angry. At this time, knowing that Jack is William’s son, Ella is calm and says there must be something wrong with the water. Steven, as a doctor, soon smells that there is alums in the water, which will make anyone’s blood dissolve together. To test that , he asks other servant to drop their blood in the water, without doubt, it turns out that they all dissolve together. Jason soon changes his mood, and asks his own servant to bring a bowl of clean water. They test again, showing that Jack is not Steven’s son. Ella is proud for she successfully deal with this trouble; Jason’s happy, for his lover does not betray him. However, Linda, Skye and June are so upset, since they not only do not frame Ella, but also let Jason think that they are silly, mean and unfriendly.

After the event, Jason loves Ella even more than he did before. While only Ella knows that she betrayed Jason, William is her true love.

The Hallucination? Or Is It? -

Ashley Biolsi

Gracie Johnson, a famous author who writes horror books. Ever since her first book signing about twenty years ago, she has lived in solitude. She lives this way to avoid any fanatic fans and anything to cause her great panic and stress. Gracie hates telling the story of her first book signing but what happened was, she was overwhelmed with the massive amount of people around her so she started spinning and was sent to the hospital. The doctors at the hospital said her stress levels were going to the roof and there at the hospital she was diagnosed with anxiety. Ever since Gracie has lived in solitude to avoid that situation again. Most of the time she remembers to take her anxiety pills but every once in a while she forgets and starts hallucinating. Gracie still enjoys to write

books in her cabin in the woods. Every time she goes outside to look at the view, she always suspects something mysterious but doesn’t think anything of it.

This new book she is coming out with is about this character named Ava who also lives in the middle of the woods but she is deaf and encounters a murderer trying to break into the house.

As Gracie is in the middle of writing the book, she notices an unfamiliar light coming from outside and sets her papers down to go check it out. She walking toward the screen door, outside when she turns around and sees her papers floating in the air. With a concerned look on her face, she sprints to the papers inside the house and grabs them out of the air. Before she can react, a blinding light appears and there Gracie is outside. Wondering how she got from inside the house to the outside, she starts walking to what she thinks is her cabin but it isn’t, it looks like the cabin she designed for Ava in her book. She is trembling with fear and thinks, “ I am trapped inside my own book and I am now I am the character Ava.” As she remembered from what she wrote, Ava is deaf and a murderer is after her. So she starts to head inside the cabin where she knows it is safe and immediately locks all the doors and windows. Trying not to panic Ava decides to cook some chicken and while she is waiting for it in the oven, she relaxes and watches television. Ava’s friend Sophia texts her, that she is going over to her house for some company. She sees Sophia arrive in her yellow Porsche, and as she approaches the screen door, a shady figure lurks in the dark and in black clothes jumped out of the bushes and slits her throat. Trembling with fear, Ava locks the screen door so the murderer doesn’t get inside the house. The murderer though person puts their index finger over their mouth suggesting that Ava better keep quiet. “Shhhhhh.’

Ava runs upstairs to make a phone call to the police, but the power shuts off and the whole house is pitch black. The killer cut all the power off. Now Liliana cannot see or hear so she quickly grabs a flashlight and thinks of what she can do. Remembering that she has her friends car keys and Sophia’s Porsche is in the front, she opens the screen door and runs to go in the car, and tries to drive away. Just her luck, two tires are flat. Ava looks around to see when she can escape the car and the murderer won’t get to her. She starts to get out of the car when she sees the person in black chasing after her. Sprinting so hard she can’t breathe, Ava turns around and realizes he is literally on her tail. Ava finally making it into the house, quickly locks the screen door when she closes the door on the killer’s fingers, making them gush out with blood.

A moment of relief comes over Ava but she can see the person in black right in front of her face, luckily the screen door is a source of protection. Then the person in black leaves but in two minutes comes back with their fingers wrapped up, and is staring at Ava dead in the eyes. The killer pulls out a gun and Ava runs upstairs, hides in a closet and grabs a knife. Because Ava is deaf, she doesn’t hear that the glass shattered and the killer is in the house looking for her. The murderer is now upstairs, entering the room Ava is in. He whips open the closet and Ava’s fast reflexes save her and she stabs him in the side. Only stunning him a little, he manages to get up and shots Ava in the arm. Ava’s eyes filled with tears because of the excruciating pain in her arm. She looks up and he punches her in the face. Not knocking Ava out, grabs her knife and stabs him in the stomach. After she stabs in, she drops to the ground because of lost energy and blood. Both on the floor, one holding their stomach and the other holding their arm, surrounded in a pool of blood, the murdered gets up and pulls the trigger to shoot Ava. Ava kicks him in the shins and as he bends over in pain, she gets up with little strength left, grabs his gun and shoots him three times in the stomach and in the side. As blood splatters around the room, Ava falls over and has zero energy left.

She is so relieved to see the murderer has died but cries remembering seeing the death of her best friend right before her own eyes. Too nervous to go outside to turn the power back on, she sees her boyfriend pull up in his Ferrari through the window, and sees him entering the house. He rushes upstairs to see what happened. Before anything he grabs his cellphone and calls 911 but right when he hangs up, the ambulance has already arrived and is taking her to the hospital.

As Ava wakes up, she realizes she is no longer trapped inside her book anymore and that her name is now Gracie again. Ava is explaining what happened to the doctors but before she finished the doctors interrupt her and tell her, she had another anxiety attack and that she should get some rest. Gracie refuses to believe what happened was just a hallucination, but the doctor is 100% sure

nothing she said that happened was real. There wasn’t any paper in the air that had a blinding light, there wasn’t a criminal after her and she doesn’t have any friend named Sophia because she lives alone. The doctor leaves the room and keeps the door open and Gracie just lay there in bed. She starts thinking and decides what she experienced was indeed a hallucination and finally believes the doctors. Gracie is just about to shut her eyes when she sees a dark shadowy figure run past her hospital room and it looks exactly like the murderer in her hallucination. She decides it isn’t real and shuts her eyes but then seconds later hears the hospital filled with screams.

[Untitled] -

Pearl Agramon

I stare at the blank wall in front of me, completely shocked on the news that was just announced. My first reaction was to call him, and when I do it goes straight to voicemail. I do it again, and again, but I still get no answer. Then I start to scan around my room, and quickly spot what I was looking for. The memory album. This album contains all the pictures and memories starting from freshman year of high school to what would have been junior year.

Immediately I skim through the pages that used to hold photos that would bring happy memories and smiles to my face, but now, it just leaves me heartbroken. And that’s when it hits me, he is really gone. I then feel my legs give out, leading to my knees hitting the floor harshly and my whole body dropping forward. Loud sobs escape my mouth as dark clouds cover my vision, and then I pass out. ✰✰✰ I was hanging out at Liam’s house and we decided to walk to a nearby coffee shop, this shop is where we spend most of our days together. We buy our usual orders and casually take sips out of our drinks as we talk to each other about anything and everything. So that’s how we decided to spend the our last day of summer.

When the light showed a white silhouette of a man crossing, we walked through the crosswalk. That was the moment when it all happened, two cars were street racing. One appeared to be slowly stopping while the other used that to their advantage and drove faster. I remember hearing Liam yelling for me to duck down, but I didn’t. Right before the car came and hit us both, Liam pushed me out of the way causing me to land roughly on the floor. My head hit the concrete causing my eyes to shut close.

Waking up in the hospital to figure out Liam was fighting for his life was not the hardest part. The hardest part was figuring out that he was no longer with us, with me. ✰✰✰ I walk towards the end of the crosswalk and kneel down on the sidewalk. I place a vase of flowers and a candle besides all the others, I then stare at the framed picture in the middle of memorial. He smiles into the camera, as his eyes glimmer with happiness. I sigh and stare at my childhood best friend, and continue my walk to the coffee shop. Walking in, I wait in line and order my usual then I head a table next to a window. Sitting down, I pull out the memory album. I look through the pages packed with photos, taking casual sips from my drink. I laugh and smile at some of them remembering the memory that goes along with it.

That’s when I realized that since Liam was a really good friend, he wouldn’t want me to be moping around. He would want me to do things, make new friends, but of course remember him.

The Almost that Happened to Him -

Hazel S. Phillips

It is Friday, August 18, 2017 teens at Jefferson High school were just getting out, the bell had rung about six minutes ago at 3:05pm. I was walking towards my usual bus, number 5062 arriving at 3:12pm. I saw her there she, and I assume she was waiting for the same bus I was because after this one only the late bus at 4:20 comes. She was stunning, nice evergreen eyes, tanned skin, brown hair with blond highlights at the tips, and although not the clearest skin in the world she was still pretty.

As she was waiting for the bus, she was on her phone texting and chuckling at the same time I thought maybe she was texting her boyfriend. I didn't even know her name, but a chance of finding out if she really indeed have a boyfriend or if my chance passed with time already. As I was walking towards her, a couple a sophomores rush passed her knocking down most of her notebooks in her hand a few falls in the mud from the grass and sprinklers and a few on the sidewalk wide open. I reach out to help her, and she extends her arms in front of me as if she didn't want my help saying "Thanks, but I'm okay James" I was surprised that she knew my name she never talks to anybody let alone me knowing her name. While she is done picking up her notebooks I see out of the corner of my eye a note now this notes could have had anything on it, little did I know it was something explaining that almost happened. After getting on the bus, she sat as far as she could from me and just bug-eyed the window until she got near her stop. She gets up and picks up her backpack which looks as if it could be carrying 5 or 6 textbooks inside. I thought to myself thinking why someone would bring so many books home on a Friday, must be a nerd. Apparently, we were getting off on the same stop, right after she and I stepped off the bus she held her finger to my chest very lightly and said: "sorry if acted rude I am just a private person I hope you didn't see anything you weren't supposed to". I was so amazed by the confidence and a bit afraid of the certainty she was pushing for that I agreed and then asked her what her name was she responded with "My name is North I'm in your English class." she seemed very disclosed as if she was hiding something.of course, I wasn't going to find myself getting her to tell me I had just met her, but I would find out one day I will make sure I do. I asked her "why haven't i seen you here before"? And she said, "well my family, and I just moved here a month ago we were getting settled a few houses over, and well I just came from a Catholic private school in South Pasadena, so I don't really know any of you." She had a nice soft voice, and after answering my question, she was quite rushed to get back home until I shouted: "would you like to come to my basketball game in an hour and then a party with my friends and I"?

I figured she needed some friends being new and all to the neighborhood and the school. "I don't usually go out but why not try something different" North replied. Not going to lie but that was the day I found my best friend we had an amazing time she cheered me on at the game and then at the party she was hyping me up and becoming my wing-woman for the whole night even though I barely remember it. At this party she met Chris he was a sophomore at the time, and well they make an amazing couple now. I'm not going to lie I did like her when I first met her but her being happy is what I really wanted in the end as she progressed to becoming my best friend in high school, and After that party they were inseparable. Fast forwarding to graduation the ending of senior year.

North Sanchez had made it in high school, and in life, i couldn't be more envious and happy of her at the same time. Valedictorian, best friend, gorgeous, had a perfect boyfriend, and did swim, soccer, and cheer I was in awe of her and her successes. Before she gets up on stage to give her speech, she turned to me and gives me a hug so sincere it almost made me cry and said: "James, you have been my rock and savior from the time we met even if you never knew." As she says the last word on that sentence her name is introduced by Dean Jamie. She walks up and clears her throat and begins" hello teachers, staff, friends, and family today many people here think that I have made a living and bright future for myself or who made it in high school, well you might be right about that because i definitely tried every day of my high school life to make that happen. Being valedictorian of my class was thought impossible by my freshman self because no one knew me, no one talked to me, and

worst of all no one would look at me. Now being the new kid not everyone wants to hold your hand and guide you but I know I couldn't have made it to my position right now feeling happier than ever without, family, my teachers, my boyfriend Chris, my coaches, and last but most definitely no the least my best friend, James. I met James in the first week of school on a Friday, August 18 he probably thought I was a stuck up nerd by the way I acted when he tried to help me when all my books fell down that day.But little did everyone and himself know was that I had a handful of notebooks and books with me not because i was a nerd but because i was planning to kill myself on that exact day". Everyone gasped, but only her mother and James were the ones who started to shed tears while Chris stunned begin pacing in the back. She continued "as she looks straight at James with an upsetting chuckle saying that is why I hesitated with your help James i couldn't risk anyone seeing my note and notifying anyone of my issue. Then my dear friend James extended his friendship and invited me to his basketball game with a party following after in which I met Chris, but I had cleaned out my locker so my mother would not have to go through the embarrassment of having to go there herself wondering why I'd do such a thing.If not for James id probably wouldn't be standing in front of you today instead of a picture of me on a big frame covered with flowers and some other student here speaking about my remembrance. What I'm trying to say is although many think friendships don't last or lose touch is that at one point that friend may have saved you whether the issue was as small as helping them talk to a guy or a girl or my story, and you should be grateful.

Because i don't believe that anyone of us could be standing here today without that one, two, or, maybe three best friends. thank you and congrats grads we did it"! Once she got off the stage, I hugged her so tight so she couldn't breathe, but this hug of hers was different it wasn't like any other she felt lifted and I could tell. North Sanchez and I James Moreno were both excepted into Pepperdine University where her boyfriend Chris already attends except she got a scholarship and I'm paying full tuition. Freshman year for us was a blast she even helped me get this one chick I liked, and we continued on with our lives. A few years pass by we are now juniors at Pepperdine University and Chris who she's been dating since freshman year of high school will be graduating this year 2023. It was August 19 it was a Wednesday, and she was driving back to her dorm, since her father had died when she was young Chris asked my permission to pop the question, now my freshman self would have been hell now but she was genuinely happy and in love with him. so I granted his wish of my permission plus I had a girlfriend now it's not like I can let her go like that. I told North to get an uber as she was coming back from her friends 21st birthday celebration, but she insisted on driving.I couldn't be more angered at myself for letting her do that on that night because once she made her first turn, she was hit by a truck and smashed into a bakery on the corner and died. I couldn't control myself once I heard the news tears just kept falling. Chris was so devastated he dropped out of Pepperdine university right before graduation. He started partying and taking drugs just to numb the pain I checked on him once or twice a week to make sure he was alive. until one day he was passed out cold I called 911 but was pronounced dead when he was on the way to the hospital only a couple of weeks after North's death. Her mother South Sanchez had asked me to make a eulogy for her ceremony, but I knew even though it would be such an honor i couldn't bear to see her casket and kindly rejected. I soon fell into depression and what they call social anxiety soon after Chris' death and broke up with my girlfriend May because she reminded me of North all the time, never went out unless for food and school, and barely ate anything. Its been exactly a year before her death now and I'm still in the state as when she and Chris left me, her mother had remarried and was adopting a new child I got so upset thinking she could replace someone as special as North I cut her off from my life completely now I really had no one. I went for a drive to a market nearby because even though I barely ate I still needed food in my system, somehow along the drive I realized I wasn't driving to the market but the street where North had lived out her last seconds.I couldn't take it anymore the pain was numbing me it was consuming me I'm going to reunite with you north and simply took my seatbelt off made a U-turn and crashed into the same corner bakery north crashed and died. Time of death 3:12 pm on Wednesday, August 19, 2024.

Sariel’s Fearful Decision -

Paula Zepeda

I could tell by the slightly sandy, papery taste of the apple that it wasn’t ripe. The unripe apple was another factor that happened to make me feel irritated on a September day in high school.

First, I came late to school because of the horrible rain that caused me to be extra cautious to avoid the slight notion to slip and fall flat on my face if I ran quickly. I was confused about my miserable life. There were so many terrible things occurring to me that I did not know who I was anymore. I felt as weak as a bug trapped in a problematic world.

“Sariel, why do you look so different today?” asked my best friend, Ana. She noticed the gloomy expression on my face as we were sitting at a lunch table during lunchtime.

“Well, my day is turning upside down again because nothing is going perfect for me,” I said bluntly.

“Don’t feel bad about yourself, Sariel. It’s barely our second week as freshman in high school. You’ll see your day later on going better because God is always there for us.”

I always believed my deeply religious friend’s statements about God and knew I could always count on her to make me feel better. I might be Catholic, but I sometimes doubted if there even was a God. “How’s the play going for you?” asked Ana with glee on her face.

“It’s going pretty well actually,” I said, “I memorized my lines and am ready to break a leg!”

I had no idea how to tell her that it was all a lie and that it was going really badly because everyone at school found out that I was taking Confirmation classes and the actors were making fun of me during rehearsals. Everybody seemed to poke me like thorns all over my body when we had breaks during rehearsals and when I read their comments on the famous social media, Instagram.

The thing that haunted me the most was the harsh comments that I could not get out of my mind.

“Oh goodness, class is about to start,” I said hurriedly, “I’ll see you later. Don’t forget to text me, Ana!” I had to rehearse for my play during drama class and did not want to be late again.

I prayed my rosary and gave my thanks to God that evening, the same as every evening. But the only difference was the emotions I felt. At first, I felt safe in God’s hands, trusting my whole soul to Him. However, later on I felt like I was a fool, that I was being betrayed by Him since nothing satisfying seemed to happen in my life. In fact, I cried myself to sleep, believing that the whole world hated me for my existence.

During the night, I received a vivid, spiritual dream. I remembered the scene perfectly as if I were still there physically. I was sitting on top of a roof at a horrifying, high height. The rain was pounding on me like human fists. Pitter-patter.

“Oh no! I am stuck,” I thought to myself, “How can I get out of this?”

I was scared to death, thinking that my life was over, when I suddenly saw light. The brightest light I had ever seen grew closer and closer. I squinted and saw simply an angel. The most beautiful creature I had ever seen in its state of perfection stood in front of me, extending its hand to me.

“Who are you?” I asked politely.

“I am Dara, your guardian angel. I am here to guide you in the destined direction,” she answered.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said suspiciously.

“You seem to be lying to yourself. Truly, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I guess so,” I said truthfully, “Why are you talking to me?”

“You are obviously lost in your life like a deer lost in the woods. There are challenges in your life that you have to learn to overcome.”

“But I don’t know how to respond to negativity that comes my way because I receive so much every day that I reached a point that I can’t handle anything anymore.”

“How come?” asked Dara.

“Well, I’m afraid of what people will say about me being a Catholic and making everything in my life a big deal. I won’t be able to take it with grain of salt.”

Tears appeared in my eyes that I could not hold back, and they broke loose. I spilled every detail of what occurred at rehearsals to her since there was no point in keeping anything from her when I knew that she knew everything. She listened to me attentively and patiently, waiting for her chance to speak.

“Don’t lose hope in yourself,” Dara said, “I can’t tell you what to do since I am not you.

However, I can tell you that you need to make choices that you feel will be most comfortable for you. Listening to other people will only change you more into someone you really aren’t.”

I looked up at her and said, “Thanks, Dara. You opened up my eyes to see a clearer picture in front of me.”

I talked to my parents the next day about my beautiful dream. I found out who I really was and spoke to them about it. I didn’t expect to see them with different looks on their faces once I told them my decision. I didn’t mind since I knew what I wanted and was old enough to choose the path I wanted to take.

I woke up one month later feeling brand new and finally satisfied.

Chaos within an Online Community -

Erica Rodriguez

Being in a fandom can be a mixed bag. On one hand, there are the people who provide wholesome content to the people within the fandom, and on the other, the people who believe so strongly in his/her own theories that any other reasonable theory with solid proof is defenestrated.

One fandom that I am in that is very near and dear to my heart is the Jacksepticeye fandom, where 99% of the people in it are the wholesome content providers. Before you ask, “Who is Jacksepticeye?” or “Is he a YouTuber?” Yes, he indeed is. It is crazy that the idea of one person playing games has led to a community of 22 million people, yet here I am talking about that subject.

There is this one server on Discord that I am in called the “PMA server”, PMA standing for Positive Mental Attitude. Jack has been promoting this motto to try to do your best every day and not too work yourself too hard to the point of burnout. The moderators decided to promote this idea as well, hence the name of the server.

One section that I am fairly active in this server is the voice chat, or ‘vc’ for short. When everyone’s timezone falls into nighttime, a period of time in the vc called “night vc” starts, where MANY shenanigans happen (mainly led by either mod Ginger or mod Yanti). Now, to spare you all of the trauma, I will not get into the details. One thing I can say without a doubt is that it is a tornado of chaos. Ginger’s type of chaos is mainly memes and a doctor character that Jack has.

Meanwhile, Yanti’s chaos is the purest type of chaos; one that one may either be facepalming at or adding to the fire with more chaos. I do look up to them though, despite this. Ginger was the first mod I met when I entered the vc, and she was so welcoming, almost like a sister seeing her sibling return home. Yanti is a big brother to me, whom I can always talk to and make jokes with.

However, this is the regular chaos within the server.

The real chaos is whenever Jack posts cryptic stuff relating to the characters. By cryptic, I mean posting suspicious pictures with a hidden message in the background, including a reversed audio file into one of his videos, or even simply saying a phrase from an old video that one of the characters said in the past as a reference. I have witnessed people rejoice over one character returning, most people getting a hidden audio phrase in the latest video, and even check the YouTube tags to check if there are any hidden messages. At this point, I would not be surprised if the younger fans decide to become detectives. Every piece and frame in each video, photo, and post

is examined during whichever event is happening. The community has given some names to each wave of chaos from Jack, the main waves called Antipocolypse (summer of 2017), Glitchmas (December, 2017), and MAYhem (May, 2018), with a new wave suspected to be on its way. Each new wave, the community always thinks that its prepared, but it’s obvious we are not always ready.

Even though it is consistent with the timing of each new wave, there is always something that we do not expect.

When I first started talking about the voice chat to my friends at the lockers, they always looked at me funny or laughed. I mean, who calls someone he/she truly knows ‘Yeetle’, or ‘Yanti’?

At least some of my classmates know that they are real since they have interacted with them before.

It feels comforting that my real life friends have talked to my online friends. We often talk about the what happened in the vc the night before and bring our old friends up to speed. I remember one time, Nathalie Koes brought up Delta (another person in night vc) in a conversation where I did not even mention him once and I was surprised.

It feels relieving to know people who already understand the context of theories and ideas.

Sure, I can rant to my friends at school over why one character may suffer, but the best he/she can do is listen and ask more questions about that character. As I was writing this, Jack said on Tumblr that “When you think about it, I haven’t actually put out THAT much ego stuff. People just love talking about it a lot so it feels like there’s more. Marvin and JJ (Jameson Jackson) have only ever been in one video and yet people have fully fledged stories and personalities on them.” This quote to me explains the beauty of the JSE fandom. Everyone respects each other’s head-cannons and theories about the characters instead of debating over which one makes more sense. This community has made me laugh, cry, and realize how many people there are out there who care about you, even if you only talk once.

Shooting Star -

Claire Sauter

It was one of those evenings that I knew could be perfect…

But things just kept getting in the way.

I knew the sunset was just gorgeous- creamy orange fading smoothly into a crisp purple night – the reflection of the setting sun on the still, deep lake.

But the group of people nearby kept talking and my family kept trying to take pictures.

I knew the stars were the most brilliant that I have seen in a very long time- sprinkled across the dark sky with not a cloud in sight and no moon to outshine even one.

But the campfires were distractingly bright and the generators far too loud.

Standing outside the camp bathroom, wading at the faint edges of man-made light and the creeping darkness of all-consuming night, with head all the back, eyes toward the sky.

The sky- too big to comprehend.

Is it possible to be afraid of seeing one of those sights you always pictured in your heart but never truly seen?

Knowing well that there was no way to wrap my head around all that my eyes may be observing or understand those feelings struggling in the back of my chest…

As I debated halfheartedly whether to stay for one moment longer or head back to the dusty path, keeping still all the same with my feet no more eager to move, I saw it.

A brilliant light appeared on the fringes of my field of view and streaked down toward the

ground- a ground it would fall to but never reach.

The light broke into two, one bigger than the other- split in separate ways.

Neither traveled far- just as quickly as they appeared they were gone- fizzed out of existence, consumed by the all-consuming night.

My mind was slow to comprehend… the first word to come to mind was A METEOR!... burning up in the atmosphere…

Behind me voices pulled me back to the ground, “Oh my goodness! Did you see the shooting star?!”

Shooting star?

Oh, yeah… I didn’t think of that.

Huh… I smiled to myself… I always wanted to see one of those.

The Effect of Reality -

Alizé Romero

Spencer Gibson is a twenty-four year old police officer for the Springfield Police Department, District 61, in Illinois. He lives with his Dalmatian named Louie, whom he has had for three years now, in their bachelor pad. He is very young and has seen a lot, which affects him on a daily basis, to the point where he has to see a therapist two times a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays from six to seven p.m at Dr. Safechuck’s office is where you will find Spencer.

He usually works from eight o'clock in the morning to five thirty p.m on weekdays. But on the weekends, he only works on Saturdays from six o'clock in the morning to two in the afternoon.

His mornings usually consist of him waking up, feeding Louie, getting ready, making himself a cup of coffee, and going out the door. He has had some tragic days were he sees unfortunate things, very successful days in which he arrests or even catches a perp, and some slow days where he takes a speedometer to Fifth Ave. and West. Which is where he pulls over observes everyone’s speed.

However, after work on Saturdays are his favorite. He loves to hang out with his pals. His best friends are Matthew (a fireman), Alex (a technical expert) and Kevin (a bar manager). All four of them met in college at The University of Chicago. Coincidently, they all lived on the same floor and become best friends. On Saturdays when they always hang out at, they usually talk about gambling and women, like all men do.

It is now Tuesday and up for work Spencer goes. The alarm rings and he brushes his teeth.

“Good morning, Louie! Ready for a new day? Huh? C’mon let’s get you some breakfast.” He mostly tries to stay positive, especially when he wakes up so the rest of his day goes well. While Louie eats he too eats a bowl of cereal, he put his coffee water to boil as he then combs his hair and puts on his uniform. He makes his coffee, kisses Louie, and leaves. He plays Incubus on the way to the station which is only twenty minutes away.

“Good morning, Sergeant Capp.”

“Mornin’ Gibson.”

Spencer goes to his desk, right next to his partner, Roger Hobbes. About eleven minutes later Sergeant gets a call.

“Gunshots at Tenth and Elm Ave. Load up! Everyone, let’s go!” Sergeant says.

“I call driving!” Hobbes yells. They get in the car, and Hobbes drives 60 miles per hour in a residential area with sirens blasting louder than a teenager’s late night party.

They get to the crime scene where a pile of fresh blood is surrounded by a small yet large body. ‘How can a body bleed that much,’ Spencer thought as he walked towards the crime scene.

“Oh damn!” Spencer’s guts churn as he is getting closer to the body. No need to spare gruesome details except the body belonged to a young white boy, maybe around twelve years old. Spencer felt like he was about to throw up but then he saw bloody footsteps. Combat boot-shaped, bloody, footprints led the way. He began to run while Hobbes observed the crime scene. He ran as fast as he could so he would not lose sight of the perpetrator. Spencer asked himself as he ran, “Who would do that to anyone, let alone a child.” Although Spencer is a cop and it is a part of his job to get criminals, he is always sentimental when a case like this happens.

The footsteps led Spencer into an industrial closed down factory. He looked closer and followed faster towards the left side of the building. Spencer found the man trying to escape a windowsill. He threw his body and tackled the perp to the floor. He arrested him, walked him towards the car where the body was covered up. Spencer read the man his Miranda Rights and threw him in the back of the cop car. Officer Hobbes and Spencer drove back to the station where they dropped off the criminal and called it a day. That was one of those days for him. A day where he cannot go to sleep because what happened at work was so tragic. Even talking to his therapist today had not helped. As he lied in bed he could not help but think about the young kid and what his family must be thinking. After many sad thoughts about the kid, he fell asleep. Which he only got four hours of sleep.

It is the next morning and again he goes through the same routine: alarm rings, brushes his teeth, wakes up Louie and feeds him, puts coffee to boil, and gets ready. He drove a little slower today but not very attentive. As he was driving he felt a bump and heard a crack.

He went to check what it was and “Oh God!”A little dog lying near his tire. He grabbed a napkin from inside his car and moved the dog towards the sidewalk. He picked up his phone and called the veterinarian. “Hello, this is Spencer Gibson. Police officer at station 23, badge number: 0059.

There’s a dead dog on the side on the road. Can you come get it? Okay thanks.” As he waited for the vet to come, he thought about Louie, and how he would be heartbroken if something like that ever happened to Louie. He stared at a picture of Louie for about two minutes until the vet arrived and took the dead dog. He hopped back into his car and drove straight to work, this time a little more attentive.

He got to work where he finished up some reports on yesterday’s incident and signed them all. He took all the reports to District 61, which is essentially “the headquarters.” He went back to the office where he did nothing else that day but review old cases and stare into blank space.. That pretty much concluded his day. He went home, showered, cooked dinner, and watched ESPN with Louie.

The next morning he went through the same routine as every morning and then got to the station. He and Hobbes went to get donuts for the whole squad. After they picked up donuts, they drove back to their station. On their way they witnessed someone speeding, twenty miles past the limit. “WEE OHH WEE OHH!” Right away the man pulled over. Spencer, who was driving, went the the man’s window and Hobbes to the passenger window. It was only an elderly man driving.

They asked for his identification and checked him. As Spencer ran his identification he realized the man was an undocumented person. Spencer had never encountered this, not many immigrants come to Springfield. He was shocked, he did not know what to do in this situation. Hobbes said to him “You gotta arrest him, man.”

He went over to the car and told the man, “Sorry sir, you are gonna have to come with me.

You are under arrest for not having legal documents.” They put the poor ol’ man in the backseat and drove off. Spencer knew that the man would soon be deported. He did not like the idea of a man who created a life here would soon be deported because Spencer caught him speeding.

He finished the day with reports. But when he got home, it still did not sit with him well. He drove to his therapist. Dr. Safechuck told Spence to tell him what happened at worked today. After telling Dr. Safechuck, Spencer was in disbelief and disgust with the decision his career forced him to make. “How could I arrest a man who made a life here? He probably has a family too. They must be so heart broken, and it is all my fault.” Dr. Safechuck tried to reassure him by telling Spencer not to beat himself up.

He returned home and again could not go to sleep. The next morning, it was back to the same routine of getting up, eating, feeding Louie, and leaving. After what seemed like a horrible

week, today was not as full of action. Today was a little different. It was slower, which was good because it gave him time to process the week. All he had to do was go to Fifth Ave. and West and patrol with his speedometer. He was not in the mood to ruin any more lives. So he just watched the cars pass by.

The effect of reality hit him. Welcome to the real world, Spencer.

[Untitled] Casandra Bonada He sat in the corner alone. Everyone walking past him, as if he did not exist. He thought he deserved it, but there was another part of him that though he did not. The boy had done nothing commendable in the recent weeks, instead, he was the blame for everything. Every single day, he tries to bring out and extract the inner emotions he has, but he is too shy.

Whenever someone does try to talk to him, he simulates being happy and fine, but even he knows he’s broken inside. All he wishes for is a break from his pain and to feel what it’s like to be free of his emotions. Not once has someone tried to intervene between him and feeling alone, so he felt that his only friend was his shadow. To tell truth, his shadow seemed to soften him and make him feel relaxed, so he would not always suffer from the same pain. Over time, he has become jaded and tired of being the person he was becoming. The boy cannot do anything to end his pain, and doing something lurid will scar all of those in his life. However, he still has faith that everything will change one day. There was an hint that soon all of his pain will go away, he knew that for a fact. He has tried other ways of removing his pain; creating an alliance with other people. However, he could not because no one else felt as low as he did. This gave him the motivation to break through his emotions and rise above all of his pain, suffering, and troubles to one day be happy.

The Odyssey of Modern Times -

Emily Silva

After a long day, I came back home one late afternoon. I greeted my mother. My Mom was usually busy with her work as a secretary, but today she seemed to take more of an interest in me.

“How was your day at the library?”, she asked. Surprised, I was reluctant to tell her until she offered cookies in return for the whole story. Overcome by my love for sweets, I began to tell her of my successful arrival at the local library.

My Mom was intently listening to my voice from the living room couch. My day began with a ride on a public bus. I have always realized that a phone is like a haven for the human mind as I see everyone’s eyes focusing on the bright screens. I never took much of an interest in technology ever since I’ve been introduced to it. I have always believed that a book holds a better story.

After my ride on the bus, I arrived safely at the library. I realized I came minutes after it was closed for the day. I wasn’t willing to lose my time going back home, so I looked for any openings I might be able to squeeze through. Eventually, I entered the dark library through a small window. I stared in awe as I saw the thousands of books that were available to me. However, it was so dark that I bumped into a shelf and a book struck my head. I fainted.

For a moment, I had no idea where I was. I soon remembered and focused on my reason for being at the library, which was to find the desired book. I scanned through hundreds of books, a difficult task without any light. Finally, I stumbled across an intriguing book that featured a hyena and a lion. The hyena was drawn into the lion’s den by the delicious scents of some fresh kill. The hyena hoped the lion wouldn’t mind sharing, but instead the lion chased it out into the dense forests. The starving hyena journeyed on into the undergrowth hoping to find more food soon.

I continued searching through more books. I was going to skip all the stories I read in the library since it was going to result in a never ending story to my Mom, but my mom begged me to go on. I sighed and went on.

As I was searching, I stumbled across one of my favorite childhood stories, The Lion King. I scanned through the book and landed on an interesting scene. It was the scene in which Simba, a young lion, was grieving for the loss of his father, Mufasa, who was also king of the pridelands.

Simba knew his fate was to become the next king, but was chased away by his own guilt of being unable to save his own father and by Scar, Simba’s evil uncle who wished to take over the pridelands by force. In the end, Simba would return to his land, and claim his rightful place as king, regardless of Scar’s insidious plans.

As I sat there, retelling my childhood stories to myself, I realized I still have a lot of books to go through. I walked along the tall sturdy bookshelves wondering how I will ever find my desired book.

The book I was looking for contained ancient adventures like no other. There is a main hero that I admire for his persistence and determination throughout the whole story. Aside from the hero, I love the mythical creatures in this particular story that make the hero’s journey nearly impossible.

The best way to be entertained is to experience the suspense and thrill of a good story.

Without warning, I tripped in this dark and gloomy library which was no surprise since I never know how to tie my shoes correctly. I quickly tied my shoes and stood up with embarrassment until I realized no one was around to see me. As relief spread through me, a book fell to the ground.

Taken over by my curiosity, I grabbed the book and looked at the cover. The book was titled Man’s Best Friend. I instantly knew that this book would describe a dog that is loyal to its master. I glanced at a nearby clock and saw that it was getting late. Although I didn’t have all the time in the world, I decided to read through this book for a while and sat down.

The story began with a lost wolf cub that strayed away from the safety of its pack. As it was exploring the snow covered forest, a bobcat pounced on the small wolf cub. As it ran away from the bobcat, the young wolf bumped into a man who was taking a stroll through the forest. Stunned, the wolf cub hides behind the man as the bobcat approaches it. As soon as the bobcat saw this grown man, it instantly ran away into the dense forests of winter. The relationship between the man and the young wolf cub grows into friendship as the wolf grows as well as the man. They end up hunting together, eating together, and even sleeping together. One day, a thief came into their home. The wolf was sleeping soundly until it heard the thief knock something over. The wolf saw the thief and attacked him. The thief unfortunately had a gun and shot the wolf. The man ran down the stairs and saw the thief running away and his friend lying on the floor. The man quickly got the wolf medical attention. The wolf survived and successfully chased off the thief.

After I have read this touching story, I strongly admired the bond between a man and his dog, where the dog stays loyal to its master and protects him or her no matter what happens.

Enjoying the stories I’ve read, I went on with my search.

I soon encountered a book sitting on a table in the far corner of the library. Light from a nearby window shown on it, and I was able to see the book that I have found. The book was Alice in Wonderland based on the 2010 film. I looked over the book and found the most exciting scene. Alice has already obtained her vorpal sword and was fighting the Jabberwocky, a dragon-like creature that

was feared by all. After a rough fight, Alice swiftly sliced off the Jabberwocky’s head with one swing of the vorpal sword. She saved herself and her fellow comrades.

I realized it was getting awfully late. I began to scour through the numerous books, then I finally found it. The book I’ve been looking for, The Odyssey.

My Mom was looking at me in surprise. “You broke into the library!?”, she exclaimed. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal but all the same it wasn’t the best thing to do either. “Well no one was there. Plus It’s not like I stole The Odyssey, I’m only borrowing it. I’ll give it back once I’m done reading it.”, I responded calmly. My Mom seemed to calm down and laugh with amusement, “Well as long as you give it back. But from what I’ve heard just now it seems like you went on an odyssey of your own today.” I stood looking at her for a while, then I responded with a smile, “I guess I did, didn’t I?”

Wasps Bee Ready -

Emily Leyva

(Emma, Angie, Kamila sit at a lunch table eating pizza) Kamila: As I said before, I’m never going to understand your obsession with bananas andEmma: Guys, stop moving.

Angie: What?

Kamila: What’s happening?

Emma: Just, stop moving Angie: Why? Emma: I SAID STOP MOVING Kamila: Oh my god, what is happening Emma: There's a wasp behind you guys Angie: Dude you know I'm deathly afraid of them!

Emma: That's why I told you to stop moving! (long pause) (sighs) it’s gone.

Angie: Oh thank God. I was literally going to die.

Kamila: Ugh, I hate to burst your bubble but I think I see something you’re not gonna like.

Emma: So 2018?

Kamila: No, it’s something else Angie: Oh no, is it a wasp nest?

Kamila: Yeah (they all stand up and get away from the table) Angie: I can’t sit here under that thing! It gives me nightmares.

Emma: Well I don’t want to sit here either!

Angie: But how are we going to get rid of it?

Emma: I don't know, they don’t teach you that at school (Haley enters) Haley: Hey, guys what’s all the buzz about?

Kamila: There’s a wasp nest up there!

Haley: Oh my Angie: And we don’t know how to get it down!

Haley: Wow, that’s a pretty big problem.

Emma: You’re telling me. (pause while they think) Kamila: Do we have any plans?

Angie: I got nothing Emma: Me neither Haley: You know what, I got this Emma: Really?

Haley: Yeah, I’ll just pull a Mr. Gray, give me that stick over there Emma: Ok then, (Gets the stick) here.

Angie: What are you doing?

Haley: I'm knocking down their hive! What else would I do?

Angie: You're going to get hurt!

Emma: Or worse, the pizza will get hurt!

Kamila: Not the pizza!

Haley: Relax, I'll be fine! But move the pizza just in case Kamila: Good call (Kamila gets the pizza box, and starts eating a slice) Angie: Why are you eating at a time like this?

Kamila: Well, excuse me. I’m hungry. Plus, we only have ten more minutes of lunch left and you best believe I’m not wasting a second of it.

Haley: Can you two be quiet, I need total concentration.

Angie: Fine we’ll be quiet Kamila: (sarcastically) I guess Haley: Ok, good (silence for a few seconds as she gets ready to hit the nest) Emma: Hit it like a piñata!

Angie, Haley, Kamila: Dude!

Kamila: What the heck?

Haley: Why did you do that?

Emma: I thought it was funny... It stings a little that you don’t thinks so. (collective sigh) Angie: This is not the time for stupid puns!

Emma: Hey, I’m just trying to lighten the mood a little, honey.

Kamila: You can’t make that pun, they’re wasps, not bees!

Emma: How am I supposed to make wasp puns?

Angie: Guys! Stop it!

Haley: Just let me knock the nest down so we can continue with our lunch Emma, Kamila: Fine Haley: Ok good (pause then Haley knocks down the nest) See? It’s all good now (Emma, Angie, Haley let out a sigh of relief, the nest starts buzzing) Kamila: Um, guys the wasps seem kinda mad (buzzing gets louder) Haley: Should we run now or later?

Angie: Now, if it’s convenient. (pause) (Emma, Angie, Haley, Kamila run away screaming) End Scene

Samantha Gonzalez