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D r i e d o u t H o p e. By: Ava Gold
Programs used: Adobe Stock; Google Docs Fonts used: Lora, Cormorant Garamond, EB Garamond Front/back image: By: Annie Spratt
Table of Contents Coral _________________________________________1
Hope[less]_____________________________________3 Animal Crackers________________________________5 it’s ok.________________________________________8 Everything gone, but one_________________________10 Circumference_________________________________12 ava, stop stressing.______________________________14 Folded Paper__________________________________16 Welcome Home _______________________________18 Snowglobe___________________________________20
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Coral The room is filled with a scent of old chinese takeout. Empty boxes and useless junk piled up one after another, scattered stain filled clothes conceal the ground, and the dust bunnies in the corners seem larger than the name conveys. The TV amplifies the room with an initial pause of “are you still watching?” Faced forward at an unmade bed scrambled with unpaid bills and empty medicine bottles. Yet the walls tell a different story. A beautiful coral paint engulfs the room, art hanged at just the right height, frames to match the matte white borders, and simple accents that brought everything together. Then, there was that picture. She was beautiful. Eyes of swirling honey, golden silky hair, and a smile that made you feel safe and loved. I never knew that smile would be the only thing that held him together. She was the reason that room used to smell like a passion punch candle, which was always her favorite. She was the reason there was neat piles of organized clothes sitting on a well made bed, in a clean room,with a sweet aroma. 1
Soothing music on low volume in the background, while her laugh was as bright as the sunshine peeking through the blinds. She was the reason his life was good, but now she's the reason he lays in sadness surrounded by memories staring at the walls.
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Hope[less] 6:13 am… my eyes open to the annoying sound of my 5th alarm. Waking me up from another nightmare, but it’s not like this place is any better. I roll out of bed and throw on an all-black outfit as usual, because there's no point of looking good in a place that belittles the opinions of others and sucks the hope out of kids who thought school was their life. Now, they can’t even remember when that word correlated to a positive memory in their brain, a smile, a smirk, a grin anything. It's nothing more than words on paper, head stuck in a textbook but if you take it out you are filled with life’s problems and stress. Stress to meet the standards of society. You need energy to work fuel your body, but are you sure you want to eat that? 3
Caffeine pills and ice cubes fill my stomach to get me through the day so I won’t get judged in the hallways. You’re weird if you don’t hangout with friends but stupid if you don’t have all A’s. Find time to do both but you're a try hard if you over exceed on either. Sometimes I question our society’s sanity but, don’t question your teachers because they’re always right. Your attributions are always wrong Yet, “There’s no such thing as a wrong answer” Teachers are as bipolar as their students, but they refuse to meet the needs of those different. Every student needs to be perfect. Don’t question the lesson just read, memorize, and answer. Don’t show your opinion when writing. Don’t talk back or stand up for yourself when teased. Don’t be disrespectful. Our school system is no different from a factory creating robots, just perfect robots. Maybe if I were a robot, I wouldn’t stress about grades, looks, and life. Because god forbid I spend another morning opening my eyes at 6:13 am. 4
Animal Crackers I sit in the middle of my room. One leg crossed over the other like when we were children and I remember when times were that simple. I look around. In the corners of my room I see puzzles, Barbie figurines, fake pets, crayola crayons, and play-doh. Except, now it’s different. Now, puzzle pieces are missing. My figurines and fake pets are suffocated with dust, the crayons are dull, and the play-doh is dried out. That child is gone. You see, ever since those times my world has been turned into chaos. I walk outside to get some fresh air but the door won’t open. The windows are locked, the walls are indestructible and I’m trapped, viewing the life I once had. I’ve been screaming for so long my voice gave out just like when I was little and couldn’t get a new toy, Why can’t I get those memories out of my head? Back to simple additional papers and reading Dr. Suess. 5
Playing tag and coming back inside to eat animal crackers, the happiest memories I own. As I now throw children’s books on my kitchen counter I remember coming back from school to my mom’s home cooked meals. They were never that good, but i'd do anything to sit back on the dining room table. My mom on the left, brother on the right, and dad straight across, I drink juice out of my princess cup, but my life will never be like that again. I remember being little and sitting in the middle of my room, one leg crossed over the other because I was just a child and times were that simple. I looked around. I imagined myself, but older. In dresses and heels, with hard math problems and fun nights with friends, being a big girl as ide always imagined, I couldn’t wait to be a teen. But then I hear my name being called for school. So I get up, Go towards the door,and leave. 6
Who knew I’d be so jealous of that little girl who could open up a door.
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it's ok. When I was little, I never questioned when someone said “It's ok”. Because back then, It always was, until it wasn't. When families tear apart, when “friends” aren't as friendly anymore, and school isn’t as easy as singing the abc’s. As I grew older, The more someone said “its ok” the harder it was for me to believe them. And pretty soon, I couldn’t believe what anybody had to say. If “it's ok” was a lie, then how much more was? I started to question how much happiness was always a lie. And when you focus on how happy you really are, the small part of you that isn't, starts taking more control than it needs to. Every day blending together, like when mixing 2 primary colors in art class. Having an empty mind, like when you're little and have a pure soul. And when you listen to whatever your brain tells you, 8
just like when you believed it when someone told you “It's ok”. Sometimes, I forget how much I overthink my past. Because back then, It was really difficult for me to learn the abc’s. But now, all I can think about is how easy it was for me to sing.
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Everything gone, but one Everyone says that sooner or later the important parts of life flash by with the blink of an eye. They say to cherish every moment, every memory, because we're only here for so long. But what happens when you have endless blinks. All the time in the world for those memories and moments. Fun nights with friends and family, then when you visit their graves, you try to blink and blink and maybe the time will go by faster yet it never, truly, does. Your childhood home where you would always visit until you see destruction and sadness wiping away all the objects that it holds and you wish you just went away with it. Your standing in the middle of your hometown with no evidence of the life that you lived but how could this land that has been twisted and turned by nature's course still be your home? While you're still here, and as the months go by those memories fade and fade and then all you remember is destruction. All the goodbyes you made and promises that you were told to keep. All the last breathes and sounds of cries, all relationships shredded to pieces. How can you cherish every moment? When there's so many moments you wish to forget yet the only happy ones are gone because, they went by with the blink of an eye. With all the time in the world 10
you assumed that you didn’t need to worry about holding on. to those happy moments, but you can only hold on to them for so long. You thought that time kept going by with you stuck in the present but with every one of those memories you faded away just like everyone else. So now you're stuck. Stuck in the middle of a place that no longer feels like a home with your only memories being the only ones that aren't worth cherishing. You used to wish that your blinks would go by faster, But now you barely want to open your eyes and see the last bits of your life be taken away, With you still standing right here. Here, where everything's gone… but one. 11
Circumference
What's the circumference of a circle if the radius is 3?
As I stare and stare, suddenly words become single letters each representing nothing but a sound, numbers nothing but an amount yet we put them together like they somehow complete a puzzle.
A puzzle that no one ever fully understands.
How did the word “puzzle'' come about? If you ask your teacher, they'll most likely say latin but when you ask how that word originated they simply say “get back to work”. Everything were taught, everything we know is a mystery. Time is nothing but a meaningless construct but be in your seats by 7:30, or else you'll have a detention. But how did these punishments of sitting with our thoughts come about, if you ask it’s off topic, if it’s off topic it’s against the rules but what’s truly off topic if there was never one to begin with.
What’s our purpose, what’s our meaning? 12
Maybe it’s finding the circumference of a stupid circle, after all, no one knows how our minds work. The mind that names itself, that sees color but we'll never know if we truly see the same ones, were taught what and never why mostly because we don’t know why.
Put your questions in the hands of the lord. Don't worry, it's all a part of his path or is it because we can’t stand the fact of just being self taught atoms on a dying rock in the middle of nothing. We'll never be able to answer these questions, maybe there’s no answer or maybe there wasn’t even a valid question to begin with, but as long as knowing the circumference of that circle finishes the puzzle then that’s all that matters.
Don’t question what’s around you. Don’t wonder the origins of our life. Or why were even here.
Besides,
I'm still in math class, probably originating in latin.
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ava, stop stressing. I really wish it was that easy. As if a few words can somehow take all the thought in my head and make them simply go away. All the what if’s… all the decisions from the past or thinking about decisions for the future. Wondering if my thoughts are even good enough to be stressing over and then stressing about why these thoughts are here, and why those few words won’t make them go away. People tell me it’s good to be stressed sometimes. It “keeps me on track… responsible...a good person” But, then I stress about meeting those standards, and some more when I realize that those standards are really stressful. The constant leg shakes, looking back and forth wherever I go, asking way too many questions because the worries in my head and much too out of line to keep them secured. twenty - four seven thoughts on something as simple as “Why didn’t that person smile back at me?” escalating to the fact that “Maybe there's something wrong with me.” Every little thing that makes me, me 14
is dissected on a silver platter so my mind can question every inch. Every sentence I say, repeated under my breath to make sure it was ok. Calculating two plus two multiple times before writing it down because you can never be too sure. And always making others happy, because your scared about what they say when you go to the bathroom to check on your outfit choice. The more I try to stop it, the more my mind keeps running until i'm stuck staring at my mirror. Just wishing that there were no more decisions for the future, no memories of the past or questions on what i'm doing in the present. I really hate those people who tell me that stressing is good sometimes, because those same people are the ones who simply say “Ava, stop stressing.” 15
Folded Paper Back then, I always loved arts and crafts. Maybe it was the thrill I got from hanging my creation on the fridge, or how the use of glue make it feel like I was somehow holding my family together but, I think I went too far. Suddenly pictures took up family portraits, memories from vacations turned into feathers and beads and I realized that with too much glue, the paper won’t even stick. The base paper of my family kept slipping away and with the blink of an eye my parents wouldn’t even dare to look at the fridge. Constantly at opposite sides of the house. And ever since, that glue bottle has been locked away for good. Weirdly enough, glitter doesn’t make everything better but why should I believe that, after all, they were the ones who told me. As I grew taller and my family farther apart I switched to paper, beautiful origami was the only neat thing in my life. Gorgeous edges and clean lines, my source of happiness was sucked into a little crane at the corner of my desk. 16
The concentration of the folding drowned out the screams and the slams behind the wall, but it never made them go away. Maybe the paper tore or the hope was never strong enough but I found out that it’s gonna be awhile before my parents ever stare at that fridge together. So, I keep 2 paper cranes on each side of my room, each sprinkled with glitter. Not because it makes things better but because they were the ones who told me. Ironic isn’t it, My life is established by 2 lonely corner desk cranes, drowning in sparkles. 17
Welcome Home I remember those red doors. So shiny, so vivid, but I also remember the countless times I've heard it slam against the walls. Shaking the wood, paintings at an angle, glass on the floor, I hoped to never see that again. It’s been 40 years since I've seen that red coating, but I'm not far. Only 3 inches to be exact. Stuck in the countless memories of a home that never felt safe. A family torn to pieces, but as I look again now I guess some things never change. The new family looks all too familiar through my eyes. The yelling, the slams, the tears, 40 years later and this house still hasn't had a break. In the master bathroom I see the new set up. Neat piles of white fluffy towels, perfectly separated drawers, and only a few pill bottles in a straight line. It never looked like that back then. Medicine bottles used to fill the sinks, name a prescription it was there and it was refilled all too soon. The only thing to numb the pain was a child proof cap yet I learned pretty soon 18
that they weren’t too hard to unscrew. This family hides their secrets ever so well. Except that young girl. She reminds me a lot of the girl I used to be, but too much. I see her head for those caps. Now unscrewed and pills poor into her hand, an overflow of misery and sadness God no, don't do it. She can’t hear me but please no, don't do what I did. Because every day I wish I never tried to unscrew those caps. No matter how much I dread those red doors, I miss that vivid color. 19
Snowglobe
They say that what goes up must come down. Like the perfect stability of a home will someday fly away in the wind, but who knew the wind would unveil the lies being kept within the walls. You see if one wall cracks, the whole house slowly tumbles to the ground… Similar to a crack in a snowglobe, once the liquid pours out the magic of shaking the glitter inside is no longer in sight. But, the glitter still came down even before the crack. Once the house tumbles and the lies pour out, it no longer feels like a home. The seemingly meaningless building hits the ground with the blink of an eye, and within that blink you recall all the moments for which were made inside. Suddenly, you don’t want to open up your eyes again. I mean what’s the difference between staying in the darkness or opening your eyes and being kept behind a curtain, withholding the truth. But as the building falls I realize that won’t be a problem anymore. The curtain has opened, the lies behind the play are revealed, 20
and while my home has come down at least the lies are gone. At least, I hope it’s worth it. I hope the shattering of my home was worth it. I look back now and I wish the snow globe never broke. I wish I was back inside my house with the walls perfectly built. But, as they say… What goes up must come down.
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