Imagination Collaboration Gwynedd Mercy Academy High School 2021-2022 1
Cover: Halle Coller Inside cover: Gianna Olimpo
The title of Imagination Collaboration sprang from the creative mind of Lisa Bonavita ’98 during a contest to name our newest publication.
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Imagination Collaboration Volume 26
Gwynedd Mercy Academy High School 1345 Sumneytown Pike Gwynedd Valley, PA 19437 PO Box 902 gmahs.org
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Editors’ Notes An evident passion of mine is sharing others’ stories – whether it be through poetry, short stories, or art. For the past couple of years, Imagination Collaboration has allowed me to pursue this passion and discover how incredibly talented Gwynedd’s students are. The beautiful stories they create through words, graphite, acrylics, or watercolors truly and thoroughly inspire me. As well, these stories give me confidence – confidence that the future will be bright and magnificent, for Gwynedd Girls are the future. I encourage you to read and observe each of the literary and artistic components of this issue because the messages they display accurately paint and describe who a Gwynedd Girl was, is, and shall be. Elizabeth Gomez ’22 As somebody who has always loved writing and creative media outlets, I am so thankful that I have had the opportunity to work on editing the Literary Magazine for the past 3 years. The Imagination Collaboration is so much more than a magazine compiled of short stories and sketches; it holds the hard work and talent of so many incredible students who have told their stories through these beautiful pieces of art. Every year, these authors and artists remind me that regardless of the type of story or work of art, they all have something in common - they were created by strong, confident, resilient Gwynedd Girls, reminding us yet again that She is the Future. As you read through these stories and view these pieces, I hope that you too are just as touched by the Mercy Spirit as I was while editing their pieces and enjoy it all the same. Kiley McMahon ’23
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Minds Behind the Imagination Collaboration Elizabeth Gomez ’22
Kiley McMahon ’23
Co-editor-in-chief
Co-editor-in-chief
Associate Editors
Mrs. Anne Monsalve
Olivia Carlo ’24
Faculty Moderator
Eleanor Jones ’23
and Editor
Francesca Buzzanca ’23 Mrs. Caitlin Fasano Faculty Moderator and Designer
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Table of Contents Screenplay Ana-Christina Verch ’22...................................................................................................................... 9 Artwork Evelyn Sambrano ’23……………………………………………………………………………………………………………… 12 Favorite Color Alexa Weiss ’24............................................................................................................................... 13 Orange Annie Cirelli ’24.......................................................................................................................................... 14 Memories Addison Englebreth ’24.......................................................................................................................... 15 Artwork Kiki Sullivan ’23…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. 16 It’s Zaara Abraham ’24............................................................................................................................................ 17 Pink Annemarie Brown ’24..................................................................................................................................... 18 Artwork Zaara Abraham ’24………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… 19 Spanglish Lucia Linares ’24................................................................................................................................... 20 Artwork Payton Sewards ’23……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. 21 The Color of Happiness Sarah Buchanan ’24........................................................................................................ 22 Red Anonymous...................................................................................................................................................... 23 Artwork Shea McCormick ’23………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. 24 LOVE Amanda Phifer ’24........................................................................................................................................ 25 a message to the who’s and what’s left behind Anonymous ................................................................................. 26 Pressure Poem Eva Rodgers ’24.............................................................................................................................. 27 You Said You’d Try Farren Brooks ’24.................................................................................................................... 28 Artwork Isabella Fiore ’22……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. 29 Experience Colors Jaqueline McDonnell ’24.......................................................................................................... 30 Earth – A Sonnet Melanie McDougal ’24............................................................................................................... 31 Artwork Addison Engelbreth ’24………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. 32 Color: Blue Gabriela Helwig ’24............................................................................................................................. 33 Aquarius Maria Tornetta ’24.................................................................................................................................. 34 Bright and Betrayed Ava Crowe ’24....................................................................................................................... 35 Blue Madison Markward ’24................................................................................................................................... 36
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Artwork Olivia Guarnaccia ’22 …………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. 37 Nostalgia. Jadyn Fritz ’24....................................................................................................................................... 38 My Favorite Word Isabella Yanez ’24..................................................................................................................... 39 Body Poem Natalie Greenberg ’24........................................................................................................................... 40 Artwork Zoé Mackey ’24 ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. 41 Photo Albums Delaney Cramp ’24............................................................................................................................ 42 A Book Meghan Soteros ’24...................................................................................................................................... 43 Pretty Isn’t the Right Word Alivia Chieffo ’24......................................................................................................... 44 Color Poem Lauren Kane ’24.................................................................................................................................... 45 Artwork Angela Mazzeo ’22 ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. 46 We Take for Granted the Power of Words Mea Giovannone ’24............................................................................ 47 A Two-Sided Color Annabel Alisesky ’24................................................................................................................. 48 Artwork Sophia Chieffo ’22 …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………... 49 The Fears I Overcame Mea Giovannone ’24............................................................................................................ 50 The Way I Thought I “Loved” You Amelia Meitner ’24............................................................................................ 51 The Adventurous Rock Emma Corcoran ’24............................................................................................................. 52 Artwork Teresa Mitchell ’22 ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. 54 autumn Olivia Carlo ’24............................................................................................................................................ 55 Yellow Poem Addison Donahue ’24.......................................................................................................................... 56 Artwork Halle Coller ’22 ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. 57 Atlas Zoé Mackey ’24................................................................................................................................................. 58 Temporary Claudia Pettinato ’24.............................................................................................................................. 59 Artwork Caroline Mullen ’22 …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. 60 The Perfect Color Penny Gilmore ’24 ……………………………………………………………………………………………………….. 61 My Least Favorite Two Words Ava Huntley ’24 ……………………………………………………………………………………….. 62 Perspective of a Mask Anna Sarsfield ’24 …………………………………………………………………………………………………. 63 Artwork Maggie Eidenshink ’23 …………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. 64
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Green Ava McCafferty ’24 ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. 65 Decay (A Simple Change) Ava Wojtko ’24 ………………………………………………………………………………………………… 67 LOVE Emma Laswell ’24 …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. 69 Orange Riley Morris ’24 ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. 70 The Sky on a Crisp Autumn Afternoon Breylan Petka ’24 …………………………………………………………………………… 71 Alternate Universe in Which I Love Myself More Anonymous ……………………………………………………………………. 72 Awakening to a New Consciousness Sister Patti Donlin …………………………………………………………………………….. 74 Two Sentence Horror Stories ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..... 76
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Maya
INT. CONCERT HALL. NEW YORK CITY - DAY In the Upper East side of New York City, rain falls softly on the roof of a concert hall. It presses against the sunlight windows, aching to push its way in. The room is dark, lit only by the clouded sunlight looming over the city. A grand Steinway piano lies in the middle of an empty stage, a single window resting directly above it. The faint music of “Fantaisie Impromptu” by Chopin echoes around the vast room; its ethereal tones bouncing off the acoustic panels lined against the walls. The seats located below the stage are deserted, not a single person in the audience. A woman can be seen playing the Steinway on the stage. This is MAYA LAYNE. A pianist. Her refined features and flawless skin galvanize those around her. A pair of intelligent eyes breathe in observation and exhale understanding. In the middle of the piece, a door at the top right of the hall opens abruptly, causing Maya to slip, making a mistake. Maya’s eyes look up from the notes frighteningly, immediately relaxing when she notices the JANITOR walk in, dragging a mop bucket behind him. JANITOR Miss Layne? Maya takes her hands off the piano. She begins to hurriedly remove the notes from the stand and packs them away in a BROWN MESSENGER BAG. MAYA (hastily) Right, I’ll get this packed up. Is it really 1:00 already? JANITOR Yes ma’am. No need to rush, the concert isn’t until 7. The Janitor drags the mop bucket towards the middle of the hall. He takes a wet cloth and wipes the arms rests of the audience seats. JANITOR (CONT’D) It sounds really beautiful, Miss Layne. Maya stands up, rising slowly, and grabs her messenger bag, slinging it over her shoulder and clutching it firmly.
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MAYA (nervous laughter) Haha… thank you. It’s nowhere near perfect, though. I still have much more work to do. Maya steps off the stage. She makes her way to the door where the Janitor first entered. She opens it and exits the hall, the door softly closing behind her.
EXT. MAIN ENTRANCE OF CONCERT HALL DAY Maya exits the main entrance. She opens her umbrella, the rain still softly pouring overhead. She walks briskly down a crowded sidewalk, her wet footprints fading away as she makes her way to the entrance of a METRO STATION.
INT. METRO STATION TRACKS Maya stands well behind the yellow barrier, conscious of a HOMELESS MAN to her left, sitting with his back against the wall. A train comes into view and speeds down the tunnel, slowing down as it reaches the station. As its doors slide open, clusters of people rush out of the train, infected with the need to rush to one place or another. Maya walks into the train, noting the dozens of strangers around her, and wraps her hand around a stanchion.
INT. SUBWAY TRAIN Maya’s body shakes as the train sprints across uneven tracks. Her tense brown eyes make contact with other passengers, pondering what their lives are like beyond this grimy subway train.
INT. APARTMENT BUILDING Maya walks towards the elevator door, her feet tired from standing on the train. She presses the white button, hears a small CLICK, and wipes her hand against her black pants.
INT. ELEVATOR 10
After a few seconds, the elevator doors open and Maya walks inside, pushing the 7th floor button; she hears another CLICK. The elevator doors close. Maya stands up straight, looks at her watch, and waits patiently for the silver doors to open up to her apartment hallway. The elevator doors slide open. A woman is waiting by the side. She walks hurriedly inside the elevator, brushing against Maya. This is CAMILA. Alluring and mysterious, she captivates all those she meets. Her dark brown hair sits neatly atop her shoulders. MAYA (looking at Camila) Excuse me, sorry. CAMILA (looking at Maya) Don’t worry about it.
INT. APARTMENT HALLWAY The elevator doors close. Maya thinks to herself for a few seconds and proceeds to APARTMENT 8B. Her attention is pulled downwards as she notices the pile of mail stacked on her doormat. She reaches for the mail and picks it up, clutching it between her arm and side as she searches for her keys. Opening the door, Maya walks inside, turns on the light, and drops the stack of mail on a small console table that is seemingly free of any sort of dust.
Ana-Christina Verch ’22
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Evelyn Sambrano ’23
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Favorite Color When I swim, where I live, in my eyes in the mirror, It has a sweet, but simplistic taste. Gives a timeless feeling, but it flies and disappears like magic Beautiful and elegant based upon opinions of some I see it in the sky. It is part of my life, My family, And myself. There are symbols of sadness, But some of trust and loyalty. The interpretations are endless, From gorgeous gems to the ink in pens. There are rainy days, but there are clear skies. I ponder about both not knowing what to feel, How to act, And if I should know how to react when I see it. It sounds so depressing But in a wonderful way so calming. It thrives in the tropics and the cold, Looks hesitant but it could be so bold Seems almost fearless, But it can represent scared and sad feelings. The most wonderful and simplistic but complicated thing I have ever seen Alexa Weiss ’24
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Orange The color of beautiful beach sunsets, A delicious citrus fruit, Mediterranean terracotta shingles, A beautiful flower, And a majestic monarch butterfly, The color tastes like a freshly baked pumpkin pie. A nice tall glass of orange juice, A crunchy bell pepper, Yummy goldfish, And a sweet nectarine, The color smells like cinnamon, The salty air at dusk, Autumn, Freshly ground clove, And smelly marigolds, The color feels energetic and strong. Happy and uplifting, Yet calming and controlling, For some overwhelming, But for me warm and happy
Annie Cirelli ’24
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Memories Memories. And that’s it. You wanted more, And so did I for a while, But there is no more. I would love to say we stayed friends, But we didn’t even keep in touch. All we had was that summer, And we grew, And we laughed. And then Eventually outgrew each other. That’s okay. It was all temporary anyway. It was never meant to last. We were just chillin’ Killin’ time. Addison Englebreth ’24
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Kiki Sullivan ’23
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It’s It’s the feeling of cold ice against the face of a child. It’s the feeling of a fluffy sleeping cat on your lap. Its voice seems soft and almost unheard, soft, and kind enough to sing a song to stop a baby from crying, to put a baby asleep. It's most calm and quiet in its sleep. So quiet you can hear its small heartbeat. It tastes of sugar but is not too sweet—like a light airy cake without frosting and like homemade whipped cream. It feels like soft snow or gray clouds and fog on a snowy day and dewdrops on a window. It feels like slow flurries in the morning and looking out the window at the stars at night. It sounds like the clicking of a new typewriter. It sounds like metal wind chimes, swinging back and forth on the porch. More commonly, it can sound like ice in a cup of water hitting the glass. These sounds usually sound soft and a little distance away. It can cause you to take a deep breath to calm down and admire the good things in your life. Its calm environment is like a snow globe, keeping you encased from the outside world with only your thoughts as company. Its calm nature causes comfort. Although it can calm you down, it can also be upsetting. Upsetting enough to make you frown but not cry. Due to it being too calm and too quiet, it remains alone, causing a little anxiety and distress. Perhaps alone because of its timid and quiet nature. It fears speaking to others but yearns to have a friend. Although it may not look like it, its love for a new friend is beyond what the eye can see. So, instead of shining brightly to appeal to others, it observes the people and things around it. It can be upsetting to look at because it can make you feel alone or feel pity for the poor thing. Although timid and quiet, it can be energetic. To others, it seems calm and shy, but if you can understand it, it feels like electricity flowing through you. Its natural unsocial characteristic causes most unsocial people to be drawn to it. For unsocial people alike, it gives a feeling of comfort. It’s almost like a friend. The chilly, quiet, calm, thing finds a friend in those it can relate to. Once understood, the once soft, quiet thing you knew becomes a kind burst of happiness that’s ready to listen to everything you have to say. Through the frost and clouds, it makes you smile. It makes you feel not so alone. It holds your hand all along away, staying with you until you’re ready to let go. It keeps you company in the snow globe that it encased you in, ensuring that you don’t feel alone as you once did. It becomes a friend who will never leave your side until the end.
Zaara Abraham ’24
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Pink My favorite color floods my face as I blush. The color I think of when I have a crush The color that reminds me of a wonderful romance The color that tells me I must take a chance The color I love to see through my eyes, As I watch every single beautiful sunrise The color that makes me feel tender and sweet, And the color I think of when my heart feels complete The color that symbolizes Valentine’s Day Alongside pale roses to put on display The color that makes me feel like a princess The color that, simply, never fails to impress The color of flowers and ballet slippers, Pigs, and flamingos, and their webbed feet called flippers The color of bubble gum, cotton candy, and more The color that one could never ignore
Annemarie Brown ’24
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Zaara Abraham ’24
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Spanglish Welcome to este mundo hija, the first Spanglish sentence you hear. She has los ojos marrones, and beautiful pello largo. You grow up like this, thinking nothing of it, Always hearing “habla espagnole”, but never understanding why Until your first awakening, Not everyone gets told that every day, but why me? So you ask the question, Mama porque solo yo hablo espagnole en el colegio? Because hija I am Hispanic, therefore I will teach it to you. Years later, instead of seeing this as a struggle, Of siempre having to speak espagnole, You see it as a gift. Because ahora everyone comes up asking, Can you say esto in Spanish? How do you say this is Spanish? Wow that’s so cool that you can speak it! Now instead of it being a chore to speak Spanish, I can finally answer my own question. Mama porque solo yo hablo espagnole en el colegio? Because now I can be bilingual, And ahora I can understand and hablar espagnole. Lucia Linares ’24
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Payton Sewards ‘23
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The Color of Happiness The color of happiness: It fills our souls with joy. It leaves a smile on our faces. The color of happiness: It brings us some of the world’s greatest gifts. It brings us our sunlight. It brings us the most beautiful flowers. The color of happiness: It brings you memories captured under the sun. It brings you days full of pure delight. Sarah Buchanan ’24
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Red An alluring essence of Ares and a force to be reckoned with, longing for a curious inspection. An entity of adoration, embodying an ephemeral love at the height of its existence. Moves in an insurmountable manner with grace and intention, fearing only to be condemned to weakness. Emits a deafening roar, piercing the ears of her subjects like a scorpion sting. Anonymous
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Shea McCormick ‘23 24
LOVE Love. That simple word that fills you with life The word that fulfills you and makes your days bright Something that brings you absolute joy and laughter Giving you your happily ever after That is how love is often described—described as the best parts of your lives. But how I describe it would not be so sweet. In fact, I describe it to be quite bleak. In my eyes, love is simply a disaster. I don't believe in happily ever after. For me, there will never be a prince Because love isn't real, and of that, I am convinced. I’d rather have my heart unshattered By a cold selfish man who doesn’t matter. I'd rather be alone than heartbroken. I don't want to leave my heart open ..to get ripped apart. And torn and marked. I'd rather just be alone and unmastered Than have a fake not real happily ever after. Love.
Amanda Phifer ‘24
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a message to the who’s and what’s left behind a message to the who’s and what’s left behind If I wrote a letter to you, I’d say: We’ll only keep you down, You’ll never get to hold what’s in your dreams. If we’re gone, You won’t wonder why, You’ll know. If we runaway, I’d miss: Tasting the golden hours, Dancing in the soft rain, And letting it encase me, Like the meteor showers. If I knew how to fix it all, We could: Let them back in their home, Unlock the gates, Put out the smoke signals, Repair the shattered to the burned, And it isn’t just dystopia if we go back now. Anonymous
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Pressure Poem Many know the feeling of indifference toward a word, One you can merely workaround. Not many know the feeling of complete disdain, Pure hatred towards a simple term. Letters compiled to make one bitter feeling That has ruined the lives of hundreds Do you feel that? Do you feel like the word is shoving you into a corner? It’s getting closer And closer And closer And closer
If you fail, your lungs will collapse. If you fail, the sun will not shine. Because you failed to live up to her standards Her expectations Her demands Her ideals
It’s suffocating, But it’s life. It’s frustrating, But it’s normal. It’s painful, But it’s rewarding. It’s pressure.
Eva Rodgers ‘24
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You Said You’d Try You said you’d try, Try to get better for not just me but for you. You fought so hard to get where you were. Were you lying to me? Me the person who was there every time? Every time you thought you were done? Done with the world, done with everything? Everything you—no WE—worked for? For you to give up, truly hurt Hurts me to see you in pain, Pain that I wish I could take away, Away never to be seen again. Again, and again and again we deal with it. It’s the beast that takes over your body without you even knowing, Knowing when it will strike another time— Time I thought we had, Had to be together. But time— Time doesn’t last forever
Farren Brooks ‘24
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Isabella Fiore ‘22
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Experience Colors It looks like the ocean on a warm summer day. It’s being with all of your friends at the beach. It sounds like music blasting and friends laughing. It’s the sky watching from above, and the memories you make and will never forget. It’s the breeze you feel when riding your bike down the boardwalk. It’s your favorite jean shorts that you’re wearing. It moves slowly, bringing a feeling of serenity and peace. Even when we do not see it, It is always something we feel, Something we all experience.
Jacqueline McDonnell ‘24
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Earth – A Sonnet The earth is dying, and we are at fault! The sun cries flames when it sees earth expire. Man-mades turn to dust, ash, dirt, and salt, Remnants brushed away, forests to fire Earth is much in need, full of human flaw. Earth is melting ice, packed with dying flesh Have you looked around? What is it you saw? Earth has begged her plea; put her pain to rest! Her evergreens blaze, red branches ignite. Her iced wonderland turns to watered mush. Bible’s mirrored world puts forth a grand fight. We and Moses now see a burning bush! And if we saved the home we never earned, We wouldn’t need a Critical Concern!
Melanie McDougal ‘24
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Addison Englebreth ‘24
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Color: Blue I inhale you in as I am outside at play. It is the breath of peacefulness on a clear summer day. I sample your freedom with such emotion. It is the sound of countless waves in the ocean. I feel your sadness at the bottom of my heart. It is the coldness that tears us apart. I savor the health benefits in every bite. It is the sweetness of the fruit's delight. Adventures—I can’t wait to make. It is the journey I am to take. I wear the pride like my personal swag. It is the justice in the American flag. Liked by most, I am in the majority. It is the power of authority. I am blessed with stability. It is the loyalty of family. Comforted by the warmth I know will never end, It is the familiarity of a forever friend. Gabriela Helwig ‘24
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Aquarius It’s just a symbol to represent someone. To me it’s more, way more than just a symbol. Memories within the person and without, I think about what they’ve done good or what they’ve done bad, But in the end, it’s all just bottled-up forgiveness and love. Love for them, who they are and what they are, The way they’re afraid of love, But once they find you, they’ll love you unconditionally until it’s hard to love any longer. You were here and now you’re gone, As much as I wanted you to stay. You had slipped through my fingers before I even had a say. Jealousy is like an internal burning fire, A rage that grows stronger, Destroying your inner self, And when the fire goes out, Every sigh or non-reply is one step closer to a goodbye, I moved on.
Maria Tornetta ‘24
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Bright and Betrayed The color of light: Warmth and brightness every summer day The sun providing us light, And making us feel alive The color of Happiness: Smiley faces on everything, Positivity in the world Meeting someone new The good parts of life The color of sickness: Poor mental health Leading to mental illness And Not being able to help your friend who’s struggling The color of betrayal: Putting your trust into someone Who was the light in your life, your happiness The person you tried to help Only for them to use it against you When you’re most vulnerable Ava Crowe ‘24
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Blue The crashing of waves along the shore The sound of birds chirping in the sky Bolts of electricity flying from itself Standing there with great power as it helps us all out What a feeling! The calm and the peace The comfort and relaxation Some people say that it’s sad. “Why so down?” Might they add. But in truth Gives the feeling, You’re right where you should be The taste of berries Grown in the wild The fear of being less Stands its ground as one Wanting to be presented as the best Madison Markward ‘24
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Olivia Guarnaccia ‘22
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Nostalgia. Something that everyone can experience, But hard to explain once it happens It’s amazing how personal a simple Smell, song, or place can be to someone. It makes you wonder if they experience the Same feeling as you, or is that personal too? Although, it’s usually linked with childhood Memories. Does that have to be the criteria? You see, a specific section of my playlist from One year ago, triggers that same feeling of A random scent from ten. So, is it significance or time that determines nostalgia? Or is that personal, too? Maybe it’s something we choose to cherish, A moment that encapsulates happiness in A way unintended. Then again, a smell of a perfume I used during Middle school reminds me of a time I rather wanted to forget. Although it wasn’t the best time, it still Created that same feeling— The feeling that occurred after being Reminded of something positive. So, is it even considered nostalgia anymore If it doesn’t fit the definition of positivity? Or is that definition personal, too? Jadyn Fritz ‘24
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My Favorite Word “Hello Pajarita!” I jokingly say. Three looks of confusion come my way. A smile on my comprehensive friend’s face is displayed. It’s not about the “birdy” I proclaim. It’s about calling my friends in a bantering way. “Hello Pajarita!” I exclaim, Even when it might seem lame. I say it anyways Because I love this nickname. My favorite word: pajarita I love it because it lightens the mood. I love it because of the way it’s viewed-Distinctive and one-of-a-kind Lively and outshined. Isabella Yanez ‘24
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Body Poem I wouldn’t say I hate my body Because I’m not allowed to I’m tall and skinny and Gosh, aren’t I perfect? At dance My safe place “Suck in your tummy, I can see your lunch” At family dinners “You should eat more, you’re all skin and bones” But also… “Don’t eat too much, I’d hate for you to lose that figure” Constantly told “You aren’t allowed to complain, Look at yourself you’re… Perfect.” I don’t feel perfect I feel tired and hungry and Scared Tired of obsessing and worrying Hungry for more but afraid of changing Scared of how toxic I’ve become to myself I hate to love myself I’ve been conditioned to feel wrong about it Told not to be cocky The obsession and the nit-picking, The mirror and measuring tape. I hate to love myself but I love to hate myself Natalie Greenberg ‘24
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Zoé Mackey ‘24
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Photo Albums I sit here alone— Collecting dust on a shelf, Waiting silently for someone to come— Someone who yearns to reminisce, Reminisce on the moments where they were happiest. Moments captured and closed forever, Forgotten people in the photos, Wishing they would get looked at again, Hoping someone will open it, But I just continue to collect dust. Delaney Cramp ‘24
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A Book I have knowledge eloquently written within me. My protective cover keeps me from injuring my spine and losing my pages. The finest trees in the rainforest give me the delicate pages you see. I have ink specially placed to describe what I want to tell others. My illustrations are vivid and unique. I desire to share a personal message, and I hope to bring out emotions in someone. Some can be happy and give laughter, joy, peace, and love. Some may be sad and can make someone cry, pity, and sympathize with my words. I wish to educate and inspire, give advice, and make those who read me wiser. I want to tell someone’s story and pass down their history for centuries. I want someone to journey with me to faraway places or stay close to home. I want someone to explore the many adventures my story can tell, and I will do my best to make them as exciting as I can. I hope that I can make someone curious as to what may happen when they turn the next page. A beautiful world of imagination is placed within reach of a lucky person’s fingertips. As I sit on this wooden shelf, my wish is that humans will choose to read me. I wish they will take care when holding me and not bend my pages too much. I am fragile, and I want to last a very long time. My wish is that someone will find my words so intriguing that they cannot put me down. Keep me close and if that is not possible, find me again after some time and reread my pages. When the time with me is over, I hope to be passed on to the next person who will enjoy my story. My life will be complete if my story is alive within everyone and makes them curious for more.
Meghan Soteros ‘24
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Pretty Isn’t the Right Word Have you ever looked at someone and said, “Wow, they are so pretty?” But pretty isn’t the right word. It does not express what you are thinking and feeling enough. They are like a sunset on the beach. You are just lying there; it is warm with a slight breeze. They are like skiing down a slope while it is snowing, and no one is on the mountain. Like Time Square at night, like autumn when all the leaves fall and it’s warm, but you still wear a scarf. There is one word that can compare to how all these things can make you feel. The one word holds so much meaning to people, but no one uses it for the right reasons. This word is thrown around all the time. It is losing its meaning. You say the word but don’t really mean it. You can use it to describe how your new painted room looks, how the cover of your favorite book looks. But do you really think it looks like that? Does it compare to the sunset, autumn after the leaves fall, skiing in an empty trail while snowing? No one really thinks about what they are saying before they say it. People call you pretty because it is the social standard. No one really believes you when they say you are pretty. But there is one word that can change how you view everything and yourself. This word can make you feel amazing, happy, and really understand how you look to yourself and other people.
Alivia Chieffo ‘24
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Color Poem A commonly asked question I debate my answers Looking around I see it. It stands out. It's popular and bold. Its sweet image and compassion are My favorite. I can almost hear it. Its voice caring and kindhearted But strong and powerful is My favorite. I can almost taste it. A punch of flavor That slowly melts in my mouth is My favorite. It's bright and outgoing, But also, wholesome, and introverted. When people ask me which one, This will always be my favorite.
Lauren Kane ‘24
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Angela Mazzeo ‘22
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We Take for Granted the Power of Words We tend to take for granted the power of the simple letters strung together to create the words, which fill up the pages in between the bindings of a book. For the ability to eat up and digest each word and look behind each letter to reveal a hidden key. Unlocking a new reality is not accessible to all. To some, the full page is seen as blank, unappetizing. But to those lucky enough for the words to invite us in like an old friend and feed us with knowledge and power to be anything we dream are the luckiest. Within every chapter, we gain a new experience, and on every page, we turn we develop wisdom and strength. We live thousands of different lives in different lands not reachable in this reality. We connect with the characters who share our pain and find solace in the escape to the fantasy world where we are soldiers and assassins. We identify with the purest souls who have the darkest pasts and find comfort in the struggles which show us we are not alone. When we become transported to another reality and find the hope in the high mountains of our dreams, which we had been looking for our whole lives, is when we finally find peace. Mea Giovannone ‘24
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A Two-Sided Color Opening your eyes and looking up and out of your window on a clear Saturday morning The taste of a snow cone on the last day of elementary school The top of the sky when the sun hits the horizon The cool feeling on your body when stepping into the ocean The taste of cotton candy at a summer carnival Sitting on the beach at night and gazing at fireworks on the Fourth of July The smell of chlorine ascending from the pool Cornflowers blossoming in the spring Dolphins, and their smooth and soft skin, racing alongside a nearby boat A robin’s egg lying in a nest The dull crayon in the ripped box that was used to color in the sky The round and sour fruit you find in your grandmother’s freshly baked muffins The contrasting roofs of the bright houses in Santorini, Greece The overwhelming joy of a baby boy being born Your phone’s screen light reflecting onto your face at night Listening to a sad song or watching a sad movie Falling from the monkey bars and scrapping your knee Vigorously studying for a test and not knowing any of the answers Disconnecting from someone you used to call a friend Outliving your friends and family and being alone Blue brings some of the most beautiful things into the world, yet also symbolizes the solemn and raw emotion of sadness.
Annabel Alisesky ‘24
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Sophia Chieffo ‘22
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The Fears I Overcame. I used to fear dreaming at night, So scared of what would happen once I closed my eyes, and released my control to my own mind. To leave the day behind as if just a mere cliff note in the novel I was writing, Felt underwhelming. Now, I wish to never wake up from them, To stay in a forever peaceful state of release. No worries of school, or drama, Only the freedom to move mountains and journey to neverland. I used to get mad at myself for slipping into my daydreams. I feared that I would miss something great in the real world. I feared I would be looked at as strange as I was too busy conversing with imaginary Beings I created within my own mind. Now I long for the escape Because as I grew so did my world. It brought me strength in my toughest times and gave me the power to truly live. Because I realized who was anyone to tell me my world was not real? Who was anyone to tell me it could not be a part of me? I used to fear being me. Mea Giovannone ‘24
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The Way I Thought I “Loved” You All I ever wanted you to say was the way you felt. The way you felt for me was the way I felt for you. I hope the only withstanding problem was you never Never know how I truly felt. You will never know how I miss your late-night calls. You will never know the pain I went through wishing you came back, Questioning the many things I had to have done wrong to lose such a good soul. But it's a mystery of memory that fades away day by day— Wishing I told you that day. Then, if I had, maybe you would've stayed. It would’ve been different with you. Now, I pray every day that you say the simple words “I love you too.” But until then, it’s all just a dream, A memory that fades in the dusk, Hoping that time will change, And we’ll go back to us. Now I’ll learn to trust, Trust you’ll come back til then… Amelia Meitner ‘24
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The Adventurous Rock Once upon a time, there lived a large, strong rock that was almost the size of a boulder. The rock lived peacefully atop a mountain where it could constantly view the beautiful world that surrounded it. Despite being able to see whatever it wanted, the rock longed for adventure. The rock grew tired of the daily routine of sitting atop that mountain and looking out on the horizon. One day, the rock saw something different from its usual landscape of mountains and trees. On a small, flat patch of land that had been left untouched by the forest, appeared a human. The rock was astonished as it had never seen a human before. As the rock gazed at the human in amazement, the human then signaled into the forest. Upon the human’s gesture, three more humans emerged from the trees. The rock, although confused, was excited to see something new. It wondered why these humans were traveling to the middle of a forest in the hills, but quickly abandoned its hesitation and moved on to the feeling of excitement as the change it always wanted finally arrived. As a couple of days passed by, the rock watched the humans use the resources around them to build houses. Although the rock was unhappy with the humans taking down a number of trees in the forest, it remained curious about what these humans were like. The rock constantly remained both confused and amazed by the humans. For so long, the rock wanted to get closer to the humans and grew sad when it realized that it could never happen, but little did the rock know his dreams would soon come true. One day, a storm rolled through that was stronger than any storm the rock had experienced before. The storm was so strong in fact, that it caused a powerful mudslide to form. As the combination of mud, stones, and water pummeled down the mountain, the rock began to move with it. The rock, who was overtaken by fear, closed its eyes and hoped the storm would soon pass. When the rock finally gained the confidence to open its eyes, it became overwhelmed with happiness as he had finally been brought off the mountain. Despite the terrifying experience of the mudslide, the rock had been brought off the mountain and down to the patch of land that the humans had been building on. For its first few days being around the humans, the rock was in awe since its view of mountains and trees had changed to watching the humans talk and construct buildings and tools. The rock was convinced that it had finally found its happily ever after, but what it did not know was that its life was about to change for the worse. The rock’s newly formed routine of watching the humans was interrupted when the humans approached the rock. The rock began to panic as the humans approached it with tools. Then, one by one, the humans began taking strikes at the rock which caused pieces of the rock to fall onto the ground and the humans used the fragments of rock to make better creations. Although the rock was upset about what the humans had done, it remained intrigued by the humans and their lives. Every once in a while, for the next few days, the humans would strike the rock and use its pieces for their needs which caused the rock to question whether or not it enjoyed being among the humans. Finally, the rock was so broken down that it became the size of a small stone, but yet again the humans came to break off pieces of the rock. When the humans discovered that they could not make the rock any smaller, they used the last piece of stone to make their final creation. From that day on, the rock, which had been turned into a jug, sat in the house 52
made by the humans, wishing to be back on top of the mountain. The rock realized that although its time on the mountain may have been boring, it could always view the beauty that surrounded it rather than being stuck looking at the wall of a house. Emma Corcoran ‘24
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Teresa Mitchell ‘22
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autumn six months later, you are four states away. you have new friends. a new home. a new life. six months later, I still think about you. about our late-night drives. about our sleepovers. about the time we met. six months later, you are there, and I am here. still processing why our friendship ended. I think about you more than you probably think about me. I miss your laugh and how we sat in your room together. I miss your cats and your little sister. I miss seeing you after school and the long drive to your dad’s house on weekends. I miss our trips and adventures. I miss you. I think about you when it’s fall. the word “autumn” makes me smile. and it also makes me cry. both at the same time. I wish I knew why you left or why you didn’t call. I wish I had known this departure would hurt before I had to fall. Olivia Carlo ‘24
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Yellow Poem It is the warm feeling of the sun on your skin that you long for all year. It feels like a big hug from a friend that you only see in the summer. It stands tall and proud like the sunflowers in the fields. On one hand, it tastes like a sour and zesty lemon, But on the other like the sweet and comforting lemon bars your grandmother made special with love. It smells like a fresh warm towel straight out of the dryer. It fears the darkness that the moon brings when the sunsets each night But remains optimistic because it knows that it will inevitably rise again in the morning. It has the power to radiate positivity and joy like the sun to all who see it. Addison Donahue ‘24
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Halle Coller ‘22
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Atlas I have the entire world imprinted on me. Peru, Turkey, Ukraine, Bulgaria, Kosovo. All these countries exist, and I know them all. I know their cities, towns, villages, and districts. There is nothing I do not know. Don’t believe me? I’ll have you know that Ukraine is 48.3794 N and 31.1656 E. Still don’t believe me? The African continent has 54 countries. But… they are so different. No living being could ever know each country, city, or town by heart. None but me. But there is one thing I will never understand. Humans. They are so complex. No one is the same as the other. No one thinks the same as the next. It’s all different. Unpredictable. I despise them for it. Why can’t they all be the same? It is not difficult to do so! Not only are they so different but they’re odd as well. Coming up with different inventions and toys. Looking for a way to go places faster or slower. It is no lie that I love the countries on me, but their people. Some of them are reasonable, but most others are not. For example, this demon named Hitler. How horrible is he?! He destroys my beloved countries, thinking that the entire world will love him. How idiotic. Not only does he destroy other countries, but hurts being like him. Why on Earth would you do such a thing?! Pure idiocy I say. Another man, it’s hard to say his name. Mussolini. My god how I detest him. He was a friend to that demon Hitler. They both could be washed away by my seven oceans, and I wouldn’t bat an eye. But I must say, some amazing humans have existed. A woman I remember. Lucretia Mott. I have never known someone so dedicated to helping beings like her. Such a remarkable woman that one. Another woman too. Marie-Curie. She was one of the smartest to have ever existed. She won a prize of some sort for making such an impact on her people. I do say, outstanding. But many people today and back then are horrible. So…tunnel-visioned, so unaware. They only see what they want and nothing else. It’s sad if you were to ask me. You would rather hate your own because of what you think is right?! WHAT ARE YOU MAD?! Disowning children, excluding family members, leaving friends behind, all this for what YOU think. Those humans make me sick. Completely and utterly sick. They sell each other, hurt each other, forget each other, and despise each other. Back in my day, everyone respected each other. Everyone helped each other. Not like today, I say. I may be old but at least I have SOME common decency and respect. However, there is a minuscule part of me that likes those humans. I want them to change and grow. Heck, it was a human that made me. I wish they were more accepting, understanding. I wish they could open their minds and get to know someone before speaking evils about them. I want this change to come. Sooner rather than later really. Zoé Mackey ‘24
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Temporary Temporary Everything is temporary. Temporary Is the feeling when someone walks out of your life. Temporary Is the resentment you feel towards your parents. Temporary Is slamming the door after an argument, and you knew you were right. Temporary Are the butterflies before a presentation. Temporary Is the embarrassment of failing a test; there will be more. Temporary Is the jealousy when your friends hang out without you. Temporary Is the feeling that everyone’s life is easier than yours. Temporary Are the rebellious nights when you don’t think about tomorrow. Temporary Is the messy metal locker you change your books at everyday. Temporary Is the feeling when you get accepted into college. Temporary Is the emptiness when breaking up with the guy you’d spent your precious time with. Temporary Is the summer storm thunder that crashes while you try to sleep. Temporary Is the sunset over the horizon that will never look the same. Temporary Is leaving home to go to move into college. Temporary Is begrudgingly going into the first day of work. Temporary is forever. Claudia Pettinato ‘24
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Caroline Mullen ‘22
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The Perfect Color Perfect sunsets, love, and flowers, This color can make you happy for hours. Candy, clothes, and love letters, This color makes life just that much better. It’s bright, full of life, and joyous all around. At no time will it make you frown. The color is a warm blanket on cold winter nights, The color of the playful children’s kites. It smells like presents and birthday cakes. It lightens your heart and heals heartbreaks. It tastes like a perfect scoop of ice cream with chocolate on top. It makes you feel like you want to smile and never stop. The color is strong and builds everlasting friends. The color brings families together with bonds that never end. This is why it is my favorite color and brightens my day. It makes all the bad things we feel suddenly run away. Penny Gilmore ‘24
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My Least Favorite Two Words My least favorite two words revolve around each other. It is almost like I can’t escape it. I nearly can’t get by it. And that’s it. I will nearly and almost never be able to escape those words. When I hear someone say they almost reached their goals But didn’t I sympathize for them. Then, when I hear someone nearly got hit by a car or hurt But didn’t I cry happy tears for them. And it isn’t like something suddenly just happened that I hate these words, But it is in their own existence in this world why I despise. But why should I hate them? It’s not like it is always a bad thing Or always a good thing, And that’s why I nearly will never be able to escape them. Life will almost be great without them Or nearly terrible, But I know that no matter what I say Or do Or act Or speak Will I almost be able to nearly live without them. Ava Huntley ‘24 62
Perspective of a Mask
I am needed. I am a feeling of safety for some But never wanted by others. I am helpful But hated by many.
I came with surprise to all. I was controversial at times. Many thought they didn’t need me Nor did they want me But for some reason, and somehow, I have the power to save those people.
People get mad at me. They rip me off, Stomp on me, Throw me, And tear me down.
But I am always here. I want to help. Those who love me, I love them. Those who hate me, I still love them. I am always here.
Anna Sarsfield ‘24
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Maggie Eidenshink ‘23
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Green She walks down the street Feeling like a celebrity, Like she owns this and every moment. Looking around, up, and down Judging people’s every move Disgusted with their clothes, their shoes She doesn’t mean to act like this. She just can’t help it. From her point of view, she’s helping them. “He must not have a mirror.” “She must be colorblind”, she thinks. From their perspective, she’s broken. She takes it out on them to hide from herself. “She’ll grow out of it,” they say. “It’s just a phase.” They were remembering the old, sweet her, And they were right. This was a phase. She is broken, But everyone feared her too much to help. So, she went on judging, yelling, begging. She went on being bratty, spoiled, and disgusted. These people watched her become worse and worse Until one day it wasn’t a phase anymore. This was her. This was the new her, 65
And there was no stopping it. Everyone seemed to forget the old, sweet, kindhearted girl she used to be. She was now only known as the judgy, mean, disgusted girl who feared herself.
Ava McCafferty ‘24
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Decay (A Simple Change)
It seems our earth may have it all— The waves crashing on the beach, Branches from which fruit may fall just like a summers peach, Leaves that fade from green to brown, Then fall far from the tree, Hanging vines that twist, tangle, and spiral down Past hives of bumble bees, Birds whose colors vary, from dark blue to vibrant gold, Scaly snakes with sharper teeth, Snails resting on patches of mold. But then there comes a simple change. It’s small and hard to see— The rotting trash and other litter that sits out in the street, Toxic, dark, and fuming clouds Not bright and unlike sheep, Many deaths that stem from a human greed, We chop a one too many tree and forget to plant a seed, To fuel our homes feed the world or simply come and go, while we make a fashion statement We’re losing the world we say we “love” 67
and do not even know.
Ava Wojtko ‘24
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LOVE
Love What is it? Is it with a person? Is it for a person? Could Love be for or toward a sport? Sure, it could be all of those. But maybe it is just a word. Just a feeling. What if Love is nature? The flowers, the sky, the creatures God created. It could be all of the above. Or it could be none of the above. But maybe Love isn’t just nature. But maybe, just maybe, Love is a memory. In the past, now or future Only you can say for you, What Love means to you. Emma Laswell ‘24
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Orange
Up-lighting pigment that opens your eyes Creates happiness rather than cries Summer, warmth, Florida skies Not a chance, or a single cry Life becomes meaningful once again When you see the shade, your happiness spikes from one to ten Circular object where sweetness derives Late night sunsets where the shade lights up the sky Both providing serotonin that opens your eyes How one particular concept can change a vibe Laughter will greatly apply Enjoy it now before its time to say goodbye Goldfish, carrots, mangoes, and peaches Oh, you never know what it will teach Flamboyant meanings of joy, warmth, and love With this shade, you can only rise above With happy thoughts that predict the future Oh! how we are so lucky that the world is the producer Fun, freedom, creativity, success Oh! how it can teach you to try your best Whether it reminds you of the fruit Or the tint of the sunset in pursuit Seek the color with a different meaning Be filtered with love and joy, how convenient
Riley Morris ‘24 70
The Sky on a Crisp Fall Afternoon
The sky on a crisp fall afternoon. You walk outside and look up, admiring the beauty of the endlessness above. The bright sun shines down, and you can feel the warmth upon your skin, while a brisk wind rolls through across the leaves and brushes your skin. The sound of the ocean right before summer dusk. The sun sets and the clouds start to part for the stars, the ocean begins to go to sleep. The restless waves crashing onto the sand and the seagulls starting to settle down. A Tiffany’s bag fresh out of the store. The feeling of joy rushes through your nerves due to the excitement of just making a special purchase. As you reach in your bag, it ends up in your hands. The Tiffany’s box is special, not only because of the gift on the inside, but also the beauty of the outside.
Breylan Petka ‘24
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Alternate Universe in Which I Love Myself More (After Olivia Gatwood)
i am seventeen and regret nothing. i eat three meals without reminding i only buy clothes that fit me. i only buy clothes that make me fall in love with me which is to say i do not wait for him to fall in love with me which is to say i love me even if he doesn't
that in another universe, love has always been all hunger & heartache & hysteria but here it is just love here he does not need me but wants me here i want to be happy more than I want to be wanted
when he holds me, i hold my gravity. when he lets go, i do not fall to pieces. here, my heart beats in my chest 72
not his hands. here, i love him and that does not give him power over me i do not die a martyr at the altar of his affection i do not die waiting for him to save me
and that is not to say that i give nothing away that i do not love with my whole body that my soul does not tangle in his the pull in my chest-the knot in the string that ties me to him but it is to say that it is clear where i end and he begins.
it is to say when he hungers, i do not butcher myself bloody to feed him it is to say that i do not hate myself for not having all the answers it is to say that i do not hate myself for not being the answer it is to say that i do not hate myself.
Anonymous
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Awakening to a New Consciousness – Care for Earth
Open my eyes, O God. Destruction of land Loss of food sources Loss of water sources Increase of illness Increase of violence Open my ears, O God. People are speaking of injustice The land is crying out Needs are being requested Listen and be transformed Open my heart, O God Delve deeper Listen more intently Love one another They are our sisters and brothers Change my heart Open my mouth, O God Help me to use my voice for the voiceless Help me to share the interconnectedness of all life Help me to spend money for good Help me to teach others to be responsible stewards of our earth
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Help me to accomplish what needs to be done to build a world where all life has equal worth Help me to build a world of care for one another Sister Patti Donlin, RSM
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Two-Sentence Horror Stories
You could hear a lullaby coming from the baby monitor. Both parents assumed it was the other. -Anonymous
I heard my mom calling for me from upstairs. She then walked in the front door. -Anonymous
She walked into his house fuming. She walked out a killer. -Alaina Holder ‘23
I tried to not think about the looming threat in front of me. Turns out I couldn’t avoid my own reflection. -KiKi Sullivan ‘23
“Mommy, my friend is coming over,” my daughter happily cheered over her imaginary friend! And then the motion detecting light turns on. -Tessa Naldzin ‘25
“This is all just a dream,” she whispered. But when she opened her eyes, the blood was still on her hands. -Jessica Cocker ‘24
Web sparkle, cauldron drip, floorboard creak. Spell cast, ritual performed as the witch speaks. -Anonymous 76
I cried when my mom chopped onions. He was a great dog. -Breylan Petlee ‘24
I went home to my empty, dark house and went to turn on the light. I reached for the light switch, but a hand was already on it. -Anonymous
I was awakened by a woman’s screams in the apartment next door. That apartment has been empty for years. -Ellie Sullivan ‘23
I am the last human alive, alone and content. “I’ve found you at last,” the snail said behind me. -Anonymous
I always talk into the well behind my house. This time, a voice answered me. -Ellie Sullivan ‘23
The driver wasn’t very chatty, so I checked my phone. “Hey. It’s your Uber driver and I’m outside.” -Malley Connor ‘25
Their wedding was beautiful. The union of the living … and the undead. -Anonymous
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Mission Statement Rooted in the Catholic faith and charism of Mercy, Gwynedd Mercy Academy High School educates, inspires, and empowers young women to be merciful in spirit, innovative in thought, and courageous in leadership.
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