Dead End Door, re:vealed by re:active magazine

dead-end door, re:vealed

dead-end door

vealed by the students of l.a. high

This magazine is a collaboration between re:Active magazine, 826LA, and the students of LA High. all images and text © 2008 authors retain all rights. re:Active is a nonprofit arts education organization located in Los Angeles, CA, and Portland, OR. 826LA is a nonprofit writing and tutoring center with centers in the Venice and Echo Park neighborhoods of Los Angeles, CA. to find out more info about these programs go to: re-active.info and 826la.org The publishing of this magazine was made possible in part by a generous grant given through the City of Los Angeles Cultural Affairs Department’s Youth Arts & Education Program. Many thanks to Elizabeth Morín and everyone there for supporting this project and generously supporting youth voices in the City of Angels.

Past +Mute I go down to memory lane. I hate going through it, but he asked. It’s like being on a roller coaster, scared yet exciting, up and down and up and down constantly. Till I stop. I remember it clearly. I was in kindergarten, the youngest of everyone there. I was even more shy than the others. I’m still trying to figure it out—I don’t know what I did wrong. I don’t remember doing anything wrong. It was time for recess, and I went out with the others, but as usual I sat by myself at the benches, just watching the other kids play. A group comes up to me and starts talking to me, and I can’t respond. I’m scared. They start calling me names, and I stand still till recess is over and the name-calling stops. My mom picks me up and asks how my day was. I tell her it was the same. My sister, at the time in 1st grade, notices something bugging me. She says nothing, but her face tells me she knows. The next day, during recess, the same group of kids comes up to me. I get up, try to leave, but they have me surrounded. One kid from behind pushes me, causing me to bump into someone in front of me. I say my first words to them: “I’m sorry.” The result: a punch in the stomach. They say not to tell anyone “or else.” I still remember that day. My mom picks me up and once again asks how my day was. I just say, “It was okay.” At home, I change from my uniform into regular clothes. My sister doesn’t see my bruise but notices I’m in pain. The same thing kept going on. I was never picked on when I was around people, but when everyone was far from me they would surround me, looking directly at me with smirks on their faces. When 4th grade came, they had a new weapon to scar me with. My mom would take me and my sister to the library, and I would always pick out books—about animals, insects, the earth, the solar system—so I was already ahead of everybody else who had barely started to learn about those things. Whenever a teacher would ask me a question, I would always get it right, but those kids started to call me stupid or dumb. At such a young age, I believed what they told me; I believed every little thing, and I didn’t realize that I was doing better than everyone else. This went on until 6th grade. But then I met a very very shy, extremely quiet girl: Erika H. She became my friend. She didn’t have words to comfort me, but her presence made me feel better: she just let me cry and talk and mumble. 7th grade came, and I soon rocked everyone who had tortured me. If they said things I didn’t like, I would snap and answer back. People told me my eyes would glare with fire. I’m not trying to say I became the most fierce; I just made sure no one could bring me down anymore. In 8th grade, I heard that some girls didn’t like me. I thought, so what. But something happened that made me remember everything and makes me what I am today.

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Fourth period, I have P.E. I am the last one to go inside, the last one to get fully dressed. I put on my shirt and put my P.E. shirt in my locker. A couple of girls approach me. I still have my P.E. shorts on, and I stand up since I was just sitting down on this little bench. One of the girls talks first, says she doesn’t like my attitude. I stay quiet, not knowing what is going to happen. I don’t even blink or look down. I stay aware. She keeps ranting off, and then she takes out a razor blade. My eyes widen, and I start to shake. I forget what she just told me. The girl commands her friends to grab me. I try to escape, but too late; they catch me in their web. The girl approaches me. I am about to yell, but she reads my mind and asks one of her friends to cover my mouth, and I become mute. She lifts up my shorts like four centimeters and says, “Consider this a warning, Ms. Attitude.” And quickly, with her razor blade, she cuts me from left to right. They leave me crying. I go to the bathroom, get some paper towels, and clean my leg. Luckily, I have a piece of ribbon to tie around my thigh to make sure blood won’t stain my pants. As soon as I get home, I go into the bathroom, thanking god there is a package of band-aids in my cabinet. I take them out and am really grateful that they are half the size of my cut, meaning only two bandages would go to waste. I clean up my cut, throw away the tissues in the trash can. Days passed, then weeks, then two months. Finally, I told Erika what happened. She made no comment, but she was scared for me. I found out the girls were in C-Track, which meant I only had to deal with them for four months: two months one semester, and two more next semester. In the second semester, the girl kept following me around, watching me like a hawk. I finally talked to her one-on-one. We got in a fight. I yelled at her non-stop, making her scared of me. Then there was one hit, which she received. Since then, I’ve been careful about the way I act. But at times I can’t control my anger. I go off on people. I don’t mean to hurt someone when I do. I’ve just been through a lot, and I’m tired of being mute. I have a voice; I just used to always shut up. And now I am going to use my voice, but I don’t know how. So I told him. And he said he would help.

=Me Today

Where are you? People are worried The ones who care The ones who love you. Where are you? Please tell someone if you’re suffering You can count on me. Where are you? Agonized and distressed We search for signs of you Please call out and I’ll be there Where are you? The tears flooding Don’t let us lose you Reach out for my hand. Where are you? Hope won’t be lost We’re still looking We won’t stop. Where are you?

Alone in a crowded room Crowded in isolation Deceived by my own mind Unsure if what I know is real “Every man dies yet not every man lives” If so, how do I know if I’m alive? Or if I will ever be? Not willing to trust in you How can I, if I don’t trust in me? I hold no fear in me like all the rest For I have accepted all that will come The future though will never arrive ‘Cause as the present turns to the past The future will be the present And soon we will hope for a better future to come As society poisons us to the brink of existence We await the anarchy derived from ignorance ‘Cause chaos is a law of nature and order a dream of man So here I watch you blend in as you strive to survive I watch the world from the outside Here I stand, lost in the oblivion of abyss

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The images shown, incredibly sincere No boundaries holding you back, no fear Along the days and sands of time Making no errors committing no crime I know of a place where even freedom is free You know that place too, or can’t you see Everyone’s been there but nobody stayed Where as children we wandered in and played A mysterious, mystical, magical place With more twists and turns than a maze Nobody ever stayed long enough to explore That secret place that contains so much more A poet once had it right: “the brain is wider than the sky,” She wrote and she did not lie I will tell you of that place to remind you When sometimes chaotic it’s dreadfully strewn Your mind is the place which I speak of This secret is for you to divulge A danger to you if entering alone Take care to analyze everything shown You only see what you want to see And in your mind you become who you want to be

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Consumed by anger and rage Misunderstood Trapped in a cage A child not yet a man Wandering the strange land Searching for guidance A place of belonging Lost in the maze of his mind Knowing nothing of being kind Scared of what he doesn’t know His fear, something he cannot show Someone to talk to, someone to love Disregard and abuse are all that he knows Now grown with a family of his own The cycle continues The pain the heart the tears the screams His child takes his life Now on his knees, his head bowed He cries his heart out Clenching the note that reads ‘Maybe dead I will be loved Alive I wasn’t, good-bye dad.’ Overcome with grief and guilt Doesn’t know how to move on Wanting to die and switch with his son He now places a rose by the grave With tears in his eyes ‘I’m sorry that your life I wasn’t strong enough to save.’

your hope fades

The shadows follow you at night The truth is hidden with the light Comfortable in my own skin Something you have never been Judging me by your stare Child you best take care Following me to belong I watch as you sing my song You’re lost but I know who you are Instead of trying you wish upon a star Each night that passes by Each day that you want to die You carry the burden on your own As they tear open the scars that you’ve sown You have shed so many tears You can’t get rid of all of your fears Alone and scared you run away You’ve given up hope for a better day

untitled

The first thing that captured my attention was all the colorful flowers and the balloons in the room. They all read, “Get well soon.” That’s when I knew I wasn’t in my own bed. Everything came back to me slowly: the championship game, the large girl running towards me, the soccer ball, and, finally, the disappointment on my father’s face. It finally hit me that I was at the hospital, in a hospital bed. The final goal was mine to make, but I didn’t. Worst of all, I was the captain of the Pink Panthers; I was their leader, and I had failed them. I felt terrible. The pain was insane. Everything was blurry, and I felt like the world was going to collapse around me. My face was covered in bandages; I had no idea the injury was so serious. The girl who kicked the ball toward my face was a fully-grown teenager, while I was only 10. I had passed out after the ball made contact with my face, but I still remembered my father telling me to get up and finish the game. “The game isn’t over; we always go all the way and finish what we start.” I knew I had disappointed my father once more. My father is a proud man. He has never given up for anything, and he has never been defeated. Therefore, he wants me also to be unbeatable. My father is a man who has never had consideration for anyone but himself; that’s how he got to be a successful businessman. “There is no use in helping people who will betray you in the future,” he always told me. Everything I know about business and how to survive in the world, I learned from my father. My father has always wanted a boy, but he got me instead. He says it’s not the same, that he has always wanted a boy, but he will settle for what he got…for now. It makes it seem as if I was part of a business deal. It hurts to be treated like an investment. I have always gotten what I wanted, and I still do, but it’s been kind of hard to go on since my family fell apart. I was taught since I was little to be strong and never show weakness. I am not always strong. I break down once in a while when I can’t handle it any longer, but I make sure I’m alone because I was taught to never shed a tear in front of anyone. They think that happiness gets solved with money and expensive stuff, but they are totally wrong because love is everything.

The screaming of my inner soul was loud and clear. There was never a place to argue or object, not even a simple opinion. My mind and soul were frustrated and tired from always moving from place to place, each time further and further. Just knowing that I had no stable home made me hurt deeply. Many kids may think having a new home every five months and getting what you want is cool, but they don’t understand. They don’t get it, that to have what I have you have to give up something in return; nothing is free in this cruel world. My parents gave up their family; they spent most of their time at work. I barely saw them. Sometimes it was five or six days till I saw them again. I know many kids out there say they hate their parents because they are always in their business. I always tell them I would give everything I have in return to have my parents on my back. They don’t care or understand because they don’t know how it feels to live the way I do. We lived in a huge, beautiful Victorian house. On the porch was a handmade rocking chair and a porch swing with all kinds of pillows; the backyard was incredible, full of flowers I had never seen before. Inside, the house had enormous bathrooms with the hugest bathtubs, and kitchen cabinets filled with beautiful plates and crystal cups. Almost everything inside was white, like the living room, which had a love seat, a full-size couch, and silk curtains covering windows so big that they took over half the walls. A fireplace was opposite the window, and I could imagine myself drinking hot cocoa by it during the winter. When we were home, Amber (who is 15) and Samara (who is 14) were always in their room. We never ate together. Our family was pretty much destroyed. Vanished. It was like living in the dorms, like they were just roommates and there were no emotions. I guess this silence and desolation got to my sisters, and they started ditching school and talking back to everyone. It was an intense change; before they were really sweet and trusted me to make the right decisions. I was grinning so hard that I thought my face was about to crack, but I didn’t care because the sister with the hardest and darkest heart was backing me up when I was about to surrender.

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For a long time I felt it was my fault. For a long time I believed it. For a long time I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t bear the thought. For a long time I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t dream. For a while I thought about it. For a while I drifted off. For a while I lived somewhere else. For a while I had my illusion. For a moment I had hope. For a moment you were never here. For a moment the misery stopped. For a moment all was forgotten. For a second my life was mine. For a second you had no control. For a second the happiness overflowed. For a second...but the second was too short.

the unexpected secret It was a quiet, cold, snowy December in New Jersey. Everything was quiet except the Diamonds’ mansion, where Starlet’s birthday bash was taking place. The party attendees were having the time of their lives. Starlet Diamond had the richest parents in New Jersey. She was a sophomore at NYU—an art major, she was already famous for her work. She was a sophisticated young lady in her early twenties, with long blond hair, fabulous rosy skin, the body of a supermodel, and the most beautiful eyes—a lovely shade of blue with a spark of gray. Her boyfriend Brett, who’d just graduated from NYU, was the CEO of the company he inherited from his father, who retired not too long ago. “Brett, can I speak to you in private?” Starlet asked. Brett Clement was at the bar with a few friends. Brett was around six foot two with blondish-brown hair, blue eyes, and a body that was very fit for a man with an office job. “Sure, babe.” Brett looked at his girlfriend. She took his breath away, especially when she wore the iceblue dress that showed all her curves and brought out the blue in her eyes. “I’ll be right back,” he told his friends. As he walked away with Starlet on his arm, he wondered what she wanted to tell him. They had been going out since high school. Many people said that they were going to end up married, but she didn’t like to talk about it. “Brett.” She didn’t know how to tell him. “Yes?” Brett said. He could tell she was nervous. She was usually very outspoken, outgoing, and confident. “I have to tell you something.” “Starlet, babe, don’t be nervous. You know I love you and I would never get mad at you. Now tell me so we can go dance. I want to hold you in my arms so everyone can see I’m the luckiest man in the world because I have the most beautiful and sweetest girlfriend in the entire universe.” “It’s about Ray.” Brett went stiff. Ray was the bad boy Starlet went out with in middle school, Brett’s biggest rival. Ray and Starlet lost contact when Ray moved to Europe for boarding school. “It’s something I’ve been hiding since I was seventeen.” God, she hoped that her secret wouldn’t hurt Brett. “I’m—” Her mother cut her off: “Starlet, guess who’s here?” Jenna was a well-composed woman, with a head still full of blond hair and aqua-colored eyes that never aged. “Ray! Remember your old boyfriend from middle school?” “What?” both Starlet and Brett said at the same time. “He wants to speak to you,” her mother said. “But I’m with Brett right now.” “Nonsense! Brett understands you haven’t seen Ray in a long time. And let me tell you he looks better than ever.” Jenna hoped she was not harming her only daughter, but she knew Starlet still had some unresolved feelings for Ray, even if she didn’t. “I’ll be right back, Brett.” “Promise?” “Promise.” She thought maybe Brett knew what she was going to tell him when she came back. It’s something I’ve been hiding since I was seventeen. Ray hadn’t seen Starlet Diamond in a long time. In middle school, she was a beautiful girl, but now she was a gorgeous woman. Ray had seen her in the A-list column one month ago, photographed at one of her exhibitions. She had been wearing a black cocktail dress, and her eyes sparkled like they did after his kisses in middle school. She looked smitten with the man hugging her to him. It was said that he was her

steady boyfriend, or maybe even something more serious. But he didn’t believe everything he read, and her mother didn’t seem to mind his return. He had asked his boss for a vacation—he now worked as a private pilot after completing his time as an army pilot. “Ray, what are you doing here?” “Ladybug, is that you?” said Ray. Wow. She was even more beautiful in person. Starlet’s mother was right—Ray was hotter then ever. He looked like a model, with his dark brownishgold eyes and dark brown hair, and had bad boy stamped all over him: jeans, biker boots, and a black T-shirt that hugged his muscles. Starlet wanted to cry because she thought she was never going to see him again, and now he was here using his nickname for her. But she still thought that Brett had a right to know that she was confused and still had feelings for Ray, especially before they moved to the next step of their relationship, which she knew Brett was already thinking about. “What are you doing here?” Starlet asked again. “I just thought I would come to say happy birthday to a special friend.” “Well, thank you for—” He caught her by surprise with a hard, passionate kiss and a hug that made her feel like she couldn’t breathe. “I see you’re still the Ray I knew, crashing parties without an invitation.” Both Starlet and Ray were surprised to hear Brett’s voice. “Brett—” Starlet was about to explain, but Ray took over. “Well, well, I haven’t seen you in a long time, Brett.” “Same here.” He took Starlet by the waist to his side. “I see you gave my girlfriend her birthday present.” “Girlfriend?” Ray was confused. He thought Starlet was available; that's what her mother had implied. Then everything came together piece by piece: Brett was the guy Starlet was photographed with in the paper. How could he be so stupid to not remember or recognize him? “Yes. Starlet is my girlfriend, has been for the last six years.” “I see,” said Ray. “We’re planning our wedding, right, babe?” “You’re planning the wedding. I haven’t said anything.” “Yet,” Brett said. “Well, nice to see you again, Brett. Now can I speak to my Ladybug in private?” asked Ray. “Ladybug?” said Brett. Ray probably didn’t know Starlet at all. She hated nicknames; she said they were so high school. “What kind of name is that?” “A lovely one,” Starlet said. She whispered to Brett, “Be nice. Now, Brett, let me talk to Ray so we can get out of here like you planned.” “Fine, babe, but don’t take long,” he said, giving her a kiss on the forehead and then turning to Ray. “I’ll be watching you.” He walked away. After Brett walked to the bar, Ray took her hand and lead her to the balcony where they could be alone. “I’ve missed you so much.” Ray just wanted to hold her and never let go. “I’ve missed you too, Ray.” “Why do I get the feeling that there’s something in there that I’m supposed to read between the lines?” “I’m with Brett.” God she was so confused. First she thought this was what she wanted, but she loved Brett so much that she didn’t want to hurt him. She needed time alone to think. “But I don’t understand. I thought you loved me the way I love you.” “I’m not sure anymore. I need time.” “TIME! You had a lot of time, and what did you do as soon as I was gone? Huh? You hooked up with Brett.”

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“That’s not what happened; I got together with him in ninth grade.” “I left the year before that. You promised you would wait for me. I said I was going to come back.” He was dangerously close to pulling his hair out. “I gave you my promise.” “Ray, we were kids. We were in middle school, for God’s sake. You never wrote to me or called me. I thought you moved on, and so I did too. I thought I was never going to see you again.” “You thought you could get rid of me. Well, here’s a news flash—I always keep my promises. Do you remember that heart necklace I gave you?” “Yes. I still have it,” she whispered. “Well, it was something I bought for you with all my heart, and I gave it to you with my heart. You have my heart with you; you’ve always had it.” “Ray, I’m sorry, but I need some time; please give me some time,” she pleaded. She couldn’t stop the hot tears falling from her eyes. “Ladybug, don’t cry; baby, don’t cry. I’m just frustrated that for all these past years I waited, and I still have to wait more.” What else could he say, could he do? “I just want to be with you.” She yanked herself out of his arms, looked up at the stars, and said, “If you waited all those years, what’s so hard about waiting a while longer?” Ray was about to reply when Brett came out and interrupted them again. “Babe, your mother said you should go in and cut the cake.” “Let’s go in so we can get out of here. I’m tired all of a sudden.” Starlet went to Brett’s waiting arms, ignoring Ray’s burning eyes. There was nothing wrong with being with Brett—he was her boyfriend, after all. “Coming, Ray?” “No, thanks; I have to head to my parents’ house to see if it’s livable. If it’s not, I’ll probably go to a hotel.” He walked out as if he hadn’t spilled his heart out and been treated like a nobody by the woman he loved. “What’s wrong, love—you’ve been crying?” He didn’t know what Ray had said, but he loved this woman and he was going to fight to win her heart. “Nothing, I’m just tired.” “Okay, then, let’s just head home.” And with that Brett led her to his BMW. They felt overwhelmed by the huge house and didn’t want to spend the night. By the time Brett woke up the next morning, Starlet was showered and in the kitchen, drinking OJ and having breakfast. Starlet hadn’t been able to sleep. She loved both Brett and Ray. Ray had always been a ladies’ man. Brett, on the other hand, was responsible and successful. All of sudden, an idea started to form in her head, piece by piece, and she knew what she had to do. “Morning, sweetheart. You’re up early,” said Brett. “Morning, and yes, I’m up early because I’m making plans.” “Plans for what?” “I’m going on vacation.” “Where are we going?” asked Brett, confused. Starlet hadn’t been able to sleep. She loved both Brett and Ray. “I’m going to Madrid.” “What do you mean ‘you’re going?’ ” “Brett, I need time to think. I should have done this a long time ago, but I didn’t think I could go without you.” She grabbed Brett’s hand in hers. “But I have to, even if it means I’m going without you. I’m going to miss you.” Brett was speechless. Starlet wanted to leave him. Was she running away with Ray? “Darling, who’s going away with you?” “No one else, only me.” Brett let out the air he was holding in. “Okay, Starlet. I do think you need a vacation, but don’t stay away

too long.” Brett didn’t know what he was going to do without her. “Where are you going to stay?” “At the Gran Meliá Fénix. I already made reservations.” “Starlet, just keep in mind that I love you.” “I love you, too, and I will, forever and a day.” She circled her arms around his neck and kissed him. After a busy night, Starlet packed with Brett’s help the next morning. Brett took her out for a late breakfast before heading to the airport. There, he didn’t know what to say, so he just said, “Have a pleasant flight, and remember that I love you with all my heart and I’m always going to be here for you no matter what you choose or what happens.” He ended his good-bye with a kiss that left Starlet dazed. Starlet hugged Brett for along time. Then the speaker came to life, announcing that the plane was boarding. Starlet gave Brett a sweet but firm kiss on the lips and said, “I love you, and I’m going to miss you.” She walked away. Brett watched Starlet walk towards the airport gate. Then he walked to the window and watched the plane take off, taking the love of his life with it. He stood there till an airport assistant told him he had to leave.

Starlet had been in Spain for two months, and she hadn’t gone anywhere besides the spa downstairs. One morning, she told herself she had to go out and take a walk. When she got outside, it was freezing. She walked for a few minutes, then decided to go buy something hot to drink. She hurried over to a café she saw. Right outside the door, she bumped into an older man, who dropped his coffee after the impact. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Let me buy you another coffee.” “No, that’s fine. I’ll get another one myself,” he said. Starlet noticed he was a very handsome man, wellkempt, around his forties. “No, I’ll buy it since I was so clumsy.” “Fine, since you insist. It’s not every day a beautiful young lady buys me a drink.” Starlet was about to put him in his place for flirting with her when she noticed a polite smile and kindness in his eyes. “I’m sorry for being rude and spacing out. My name is Starlet. Thank you for the compliment, and I’m sure many ladies your age want to buy you drinks.” “I’m Ralph Johnson, and my wife would be irritated if she found out I accepted drinks from another woman. She’d be furious. But I think she’ll make an exception with you because she loves you. She has seen you in the newspaper, and she loves all the work you have done. She’s been to all your exhibitions that come to Spain. You should meet her. She owns the shop, and she will come back in an hour or so.” “That’s magnificent; I’d love to meet your wife.” For the next two hours, they talked about what Ralph did. He was a businessman just like Brett. And his wife Ingrid owned the café. Starlet could tell they were very much in love by the way Ralph talked. They also talked about Starlet and what inspired her beautiful drawings. He was very interested in “The Capturer of My Heart,” which was inspired by Brett. She missed him so much that she wished she could be with him right at that moment, somehow. The picture of him and his long calls weren’t enough anymore.

“¡Dios mio!”

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“¡Dios mio!” someone screamed, and something hit the floor with a loud sound. Starlet turned to see what the racket was about and saw an older, well-groomed woman standing in the doorway with her eyes resting on Starlet. “Starlet, this is my wife,” said Ralph, who was now walking to his wife’s side. “Ingrid, I would like you to meet—” Ingrid interrupted him before he finished. “Oh, stop it. I know who she is. She’s the most artistic gorgeous woman on this entire planet. She is Starlet Diamond,” interrupted Ingrid. “I’m so grateful that you think that about me,” said Starlet. “I’m so happy you are here. Wait, how did you get here?” continued Ingrid. “Well, honey, if you would have listened to me, you would have known Starlet is on vacation. I bumped into her on my way out, so I invited her in,” said Ralph. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re an angel, but I think it’s fate that she came here to Madrid and was heading to my café.”

“No, she just happened to see your shop on her way to the Starbucks on the corner.” “No one wants to drink those awful coffees; they are just sugar,” said Ingrid. Starlet watched as they argued. They loved each other so much that even when Ralph gave in to Ingrid, Ingrid would come out and say, “No, you’re right.” “Oh, Starlet, we are so sorry that we just started arguing in front of you. It’s just that my wife is very stubborn, but I always agree with her because I love her,” said Ralph, who kissed his wife’s forehead. Ingrid looked up to her husband with loving eyes. Starlet knew she had the answer she had been seeking. She excused herself and promised Ingrid that she’d be back tomorrow, then headed for her hotel to make a very important call. Starlet waited at the airport. She didn’t know if he was coming. She had called him yesterday, told him to come to Spain, and hung up. When she was with Ralph and Ingrid, Starlet found out whom she really loved. She was positive she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She was alarmed when a voice close to her ear said, “Hello, babe,” and the man kissed the nape of her neck, grabbed her by the waist, and hugged her to him, his left hand resting on her neck, his right on her stomach. “Hey, hot shot.” She turned around to face her love, Brett Clement.

Love is bunch of nonsense feelings

You say you love me But you put them before me You say you care But when I’m scared you aren’t there You say I’m everything to you But you do everything to make me feel blue You say that for me you would die But it means nothing to you when I cry You say we were meant to be But I’m not blind, I can see You say they’re all lies But the only ones lying are your eyes You say you can’t wait to say, “I do” But all along I’ve known what’s true You say not to worry, it’ll be ok But I’m tired of this, I know what I have to say Good-bye, take care, ‘cause I’m through with you Aren’t you glad your wish came true?

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It was an unforgettable night for them. They believed everything would go as always. A week passed and everything was okay. Two weeks, three weeks passed And everything continued, the same. A month passed, and she told him. He didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t accept it, and left her to her luck. She blamed the innocent without thinking that she might have had the same destiny. She blamed the innocent. She wanted back what she had let go. Thinking of herself, and the one who left her, she preferred the innocent to disappear. They didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t want to accept the gift that could make them happy. Now, both are together in their world of destruction. And the innocent?

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before I was born

Before I was born, I already knew you. Knew of your protection… Nothing would hurt me. Knew of your love, That you would love me As you’ve never loved someone else. That love of yours Is like the universe. It never ends. Now I just want to say: Thank you for your love…Mom.

letter to my future child

I first want to tell you that life is not too easy, but if you do the right things, you won’t have too many troubles. I also want to tell you I’ll be with you always. Even if I am dead, I’ll be looking over you. But when that happens, you will be prepared to continue with your life and be the best example for your children. I want you to know that in life there are two paths you can choose. One is being a good person and respecting yourself and others. You also have to go to school and study hard so you can have a good life, but also share with others. Please don’t do drugs or alcohol; that is not respecting yourself. If you meet bad guys, help them to get out of those bad things they do; be a good example for them. If you get a girlfriend or boyfriend, love her or him for what they have inside and not for their outside. Love that person for what they are instead of what they have. The other path you can take is the contrary of what I’ve said. But if you take it, your days will be full of misery and sadness.

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Black and white White and black Wrong and right Right and wrong We are taught the difference At an early age Illegal and legal What we can and cannot do Black and white White and black Moral and immoral Immoral and moral We are taught to see the world Through black and white We know by now This lie is a virus Black and white White and black Yes and no No and yes

We are taught to be programmed To live by good and bad Listening to rules Commanded not to break them Black and white White and black Lies and truth Truth and lies We are taught that there is only White and black But from living long enough We learn that life isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t quite so Black and white White and black The truth is not Life is GRAY.

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Love is sharing

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My mistakes make me human. My mistakes make me normal. My mistakes make me unique. My mistakes make me Zelene.

We shared the short Saturdays, with the lights going crazy, my tall friends became lazy. At Christmas, parties were full, the loud rock and ranchera music made our bodies move. Huge full streets sounded full of traffic, and cars crashing that actually we were able to hear. Cousin Pedro used to pick a bag of green and rough pickles; my two-floor house smelled like pineapple, but when you went outside you would’ve smelled fresh wood. The song yellow birds in the park blew, the red crabs pop out and jump, we used to go dancing all night. Nina always moved her body to the right. Mommy would’ve said Adriana give me a banana, Abuelita would’ve replied it’s not Adriana it’s actually Ana. It was not a little town, the nearest place was the Downtown. The food felt crunchy, it tasted salty and spicy, it was the best food in the world. The water was clear and clean. People from my city were small, they went every Wednesday to the mall. The days were sunny after the sun would rise; I would “shh” to make my brother go shy. There were my first fourteen years, since now I only see my future days far away, those were my better times. I would keep them in my heart until death, playing around, singing and meeting in the afternoons. For me it will be the only place on earth where my own children will grow up; I’m going to make sure of that.

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front cover / spread 2 (inside front cover): collage by Jaqueline Velastegui spread 3: collage by José Velásquez; illustration by Ara Devejian spread 4: illustration by Melissa Magaña; “Past + Mute = Me Today” by Esmeralda Conde spread 5: “Past + Mute = Me Today” (continued) by Esmeralda Conde; illustration by Jaqueline Velastegui; collage by Ana Bagayan spread 6: “Where Are You?” by Melissa Magaña; collage by Maria Zelene Garcia spread 7: collage by Jaqueline Velastegui; “Alone in a Crowded Room” by Melissa Magaña; illustration by Bibiana Lopez spread 8: “Chambita” by José Velásquez; illustration by Javier Hernández, Amaris Mazas, and Eddy Monge; collage by Melissa Magaña spread 9: photographs by Amaris Mazas spread 10: collage by Eddy Monge; “Your Mind” by Melissa Magaña spread 11: “Consumed by Anger and Rage” by Melissa Magaña; photograph with text by José Velásquez spread 12: “Your Hope Fades” by Melissa Magaña; illustration by Eddy Monge spread 13: collage and illustration by Jessie Nagel spread 14: untitled prose fragments by Maria Zelene Garcia; illustration by Eddy Monge spread 15: “Iris' Poem” by Melissa Magaña; collage by José Velásquez spread 16: illustration with text, left, by Amaris Mazas; illustration, right, by Bibiana Lopez spreads 17 – 19: “The Unexpected Secret” by Maria Zelene Garcia; illustrations by José Velásquez; photograph with text by José Velásquez spread 20: photograph by Amaris Mazas; illustration by Eddy Monge spread 21: illustration by Jaqueline Velastegui; “You Say” by Melissa Magaña; photographs by Amaris Mazas spread 22: illustration by Bibiana Lopez; “The Innocent” by Bibiana Lopez spread 23: “Love after Death” by Amaris Mazas; illustration by Bibiana Lopez spread 24: photograph by Amaris Mazas spread 25: “Before I Was Born” by Bibiana Lopez; illustration by José Velásquez; “Letter to My Future Child” by Bibiana Lopez spread 26: illustration, left, by Bibiana Lopez; illustrations, right, by Melissa Magaña; poetry by Melissa Magaña spread 27: “Gray” by Melissa Magaña; photograph by Amaris Mazas spread 28: photograph by Amaris Mazas spread 29: prose by Eddy Monge; photograph by Amaris Mazas; collage by José Velásquez spread 30: photograph with text by José Velásquez spread 31: “Windows to Your Soul” by Melissa Magaña; collage and illustration by Jessie Nagel spread 32: collage by Amaris Mazas; “My Mistakes” by Maria Zelene Garcia spread 33: “Ode to My Hometown” by Adriana Soublette; illustration by Jaqueline Velastegui spread 34: illustration by Bibiana Lopez; “Where I'm From!” by Eddy Monge spreads 35–41: “Prince Charming” by Jaqueline Velastegui spread 42: photograph with text by José Velásquez rear: eye, left, by José Velásquez; eye, right, by Eddy Monge; finger by Ana Bagayan

re:Active Magazine and 826LA wish to thank the following, in no particular order, for their support in getting this out into the world: Ara Devejian and Ana Bagayan, Jessie Nagel, Amy Orringer, Melissa Crowley, Nancy Hanna, Ian A. Young, Cindy Guidry, Wendy Etter, Joseph Leff, Pamela Martin, Tracy Mazuer, Alex Riguero, Will Richter, Cortney Rock, Wesley Roj, J.Ryan Stradal, Roosevelt Wardell; Jessica Burkhart, Sandra Markarian, Loretta McCormick, Gabriel Ong; Stephanie Forman, Jeannie Martinez, and Felicia Perez at LA High, Dan Monick, Kristin Mehus-Roe, Paolo Davanzo & Lisa and Ken at the EPFC, Richard Koshalek, Marianna Amatullo, Christine Bowne, Elisa Ruffino, Chris Henrikson, Lisa Wagner, Martine Syms, Jenifer Harris, Jorge Ruano, Christian Siguenza, Kurt Porter, Luis Rodriguez, Sam Slovick, Dawn Dunbar, Michael McCarthy, Derek, Chris Young @ WestCan Printing, Ray Lost, Justin & Steve @ National Forest, Cleon Peterson and Roger Gastman @ Swindle, and for pure inspiration; Tibor Kalman, Rudy Vanderlans @ EmigrĂŠ, Kalle Lasn and the Adbusters Media Foundation, Ian Mackaye and Violet Elizabeth Etter. This magazine is printed by WestCan Printing Group in Winnipeg, Canada.