Don’t Preach to Me That College Is Only about Getting a Job

by John Kitterman

More life is buried. A lot more. Four billion years below and three score and ten above. Even the unconscious a drain connecting to immortal remains like this spirit cat on the couch dreaming of the first encounter when something like me rescued her from a starving henhouse. Thomas Jefferson pulling Sally Hemings aside in the garden after his wife died. Who dat in the dark? George Harrison dying at 58 with hundreds of millions of past lives pushing through the snake of his sitar. Books are open graves and paintings also portals between what was and will be. Not a paycheck but a Get-out-of-HellFree card. Take it from me: I’ve never had a job. Every minute just thrown here and barely awake. And any second now a green comet, coma of ice and dust, herald of chaos and yawning nothingness, will lash its gaseous tail and crash my bedroom window with the Stone Age

The Beautiful City of Bath by Jess Bollinger

by Jazmin Scarberry

by Kristina Cossa

The note said to go to room 33, but I was hesitant to knock.

First of all, it was on the 13th floor, which made my heart quicken and sweat drip down my face. No other hotel I had been to had a 13th floor, as that number was unlucky. As a superstitious person, I kept checking for any signs of bad luck. The door didn’t have anything unusual about it other than its smell of spoiled milk and old wood.

“What happened in there?” I asked, covering my nose. The only response was what sounded like breathing, and I figured someone was inside. So gulping deeply, I knocked on the door. There were rumors that the room was cursed as the first person who got this room ended up going insane and was never seen again. Ever since then, whoever was unfortunate to get the room or stupid enough to check it out, was never the same again. I cursed under my breath for allowing my older brothers to talk me into this. They were always big on daring me to do things. I could have told them to shove it like I always did, but it was Halloween, and that time of year wasn’t easy for us. Two years ago on Halloween we lost our parents in a car accident. No one came to the door, so I knocked again, louder this time, and a bad taste was left in my mouth when I heard heavy footsteps coming to the door. My heart pounded in my ears. My grip on my bag tightened in case I needed to use it against whoever answered. The door creaked as it opened slowly and the smell of spoiled milk hit me again. Icy cold fingers grabbed me as I tried to run, and I screamed. This was it; I was going to lose my mind and disappear just like anyone else who came to this room. My screaming died down when I heard the familiar sound of laughter, and the male figure put me down. I leapt to tackle him, knowing it was my older brother.

“August, you jerk!” I exclaimed. He laughed and pushed me off him. While I had the urge to slap him and hate him forever for scaring me like this, it was fun experiencing a good scare after crying all day.

“Sorry, sis, but we couldn’t resist,” he responded, and I could see his twin in the room recording everything. “Alex and I know how much you like surprises.”

“I hate you both so much,” I said, crossing my arms, though I didn’t mean it. They were just messing with me, as all big brothers do. I sat next to Alex, and using sign language, I told him he got me good.

“By the way, Lilly, Happy Birthday!” August responded. Hearing that, I smiled for the first time that night.

by Candela Pérez Castellanos

Suddenly, icy fingers grabbed my arm as I inched through the darkness that gave me goosebumps and made my heart beat faster. I did not want somebody to stop me because I needed to complete my mission. The hand moved fast and abruptly right before I ran away without turning my head around. The deep voice and the size of that hand made me think it was a man, but I had no clue what that person could be. CIA agent? Private agent? An old teammate? I was on a mission with no team, so I did not think it was someone who loved me, but rather the opposite. I kept moving: my jaw was making pressure; my arms’ moving coordinated with my legs; my breath was coming out from my mouth. The leaves in that forest, the wooden sticks, and all the different types of bugs were crashing my body and scratching my face. After 10 minutes, my legs were hurting and feeling weak. That is why my body stopped moving and hid in a little cave made by mud, leaves, plants, and trunks. The forest was darker in that place, and there was no evidence of human activity, at least in the past 5 days. The only sounds that could be noticed were the woods cracking due to the wind, leaves falling, and an owl being very loud. Suddenly, my body paralyzed; I no longer breathed; and my hands were covering my opened mouth. A black car parked two meters away, and a strong white man came out of it, or that is what the darkness let me perceive. His behavior was weird because there was no weapon in his hand to defend himself, and he did not bring bulletproof vest, either. But his body moving from one side to the other implied that he was looking for something. My muscles relaxed because the people who wanted to catch me wouldn’t look helpless. In that moment, when my hands did not form fists from the pressure and I did not have my teeth digging into my lips, my name came out of his mouth. How in the world could that person know my name? My forehead started to get wet and my hands were shaking. I moved my body backwards so that he did not realize I was there. But that move was actually worse: I heard steps coming in my direction and my name sounding all over the place, over and over. I did not hesitate to escape. I did not understand what that man was doing, but he was obviously going to destroy the plan I had.

My head dodged the top of the cave, and my hips moved fast. I did not know why, but that man over there looked concerned about me, and it was funny that I had no idea who he was. His eyes and mine made eye contact, and when my body started to moved my foot got stuck in a rock. My left hand was bleeding, and I could barely feel my legs. Silence. Movement. A man . . .That man! My head felt a soft hand touching me, cautiously and lovingly. I tried to get my body to move. My mind was fighting so hard, but my system did not let me escape. I realized I was in a car. All my body was rebounding due to the rocks in the road. I was fighting so hard in my head to get out of there, but it was not working. The voice of that man echoed in my ears, so I focused on listening to him. He said, “You are home now, Maddie. I know you do not remember me. I am your husband, Jackson.” One of my eyebrows rose, and my eyes were wide open. Words kept coming out of his mouth, and none of them made sense. “You probably will not believe me, but you are Maddie, a smart, special, and intelligent girl who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I love you.”