The Josephian 2018-2019 by TERRY CASSREINO

I M A G I N A T I O N

St. Joseph Catholic School

The Josephian 2018-2019

A M A L G A M A T I O N

Staff The SeenYears: Ried Smith Dominique Horton Anna Rose Myrick Brennan Teeter Mary Greene Alice McPhail The SoftMores: David Warnock Nathan McNabb Abia Walker Menley Clayton Faculty Sponsors Ms. Kathryn Sckiets – Creative Writing Teacher Ms. Jordan Bauer – Magazine Coordinator

Dedicated to Mrs. Dickson Menley Clayton Mrs. Dickson, There are those who fear you and those who adore you. The smart ones do both. The stories of the world swirled with stories of your puppy. All the questions that turned to heated debates where everyone was talking at once. Expressions across the room and the tricks we tried to get you off-subject so we wouldn’t have to take notes. But you only let us think we got our way. But just to get you back, we’ll come back to visit in college t-shirts with story after story of our lives beyond high school. And we’ll laugh with you because we know you missed (most of) us too. I’m sorry the coffee was never good enough for you. Over, done, finished, through. 3

Dedicated to Mr. Wilson Mary Greene Mr. Wilson, literature man, economy prodigy, rock ’n’ roll fan. Imagination and expressive hands assemble sidewalks for marching bands, and the enlightening parade where the beat is played on children’s brains and they sing a refrain that’ll drive you insane. But, you’d rather be there than the dunce’s chair. Mr. Wilson, a chill one, with confidence, patience, and encouraging statements. Lift us up to the precipice with special emphasis on thoughtful inquiry of creative elephants in the room. Burst out of the tomb of shyness, dryness, to cerebral highness. Your Highness, Mr. Wilson.

Leaves Of Gold By Brennan Teeter Words spun together in a million different orders, But is perfect every time. They are placed on leaves of gold that are bound by silk. Hidden secrets yet to be discovered And with these pages you can teleport to a far away castle, Or across the solar system. This is just the beginning. Where will you Journey?

Slipspace

by: Ried Smith

The soldier’s footsteps pounded heavy on the floor as they ran past. The loudspeaker was blaring above them. “ALL UNITS. A breach in security has been detected. This is a code red. Repeat, code red. Repeat…..” And yet there she was, just lying in the spacecraft’s ventilation shaft. She was disappointed no one had guessed to look here, it was such a cliché spot. The Federation’s ‘brave and heroic troops’ weren’t particularly well known for their intelligence (or their bravery for that matter). As she heard the last of the troops pound away, she slipped off the cover of the shaft and landed on the floor with a thud. Feet first of course. she checked in her pocket to see if the drive was damaged. She pulled it out, and admired it for a second. It was a small rectangle, with various lights and exposed cables on it. ‘To think that something so vital is in such a small package…’ She snapped out of her trance and started down the narrow corridor, to carry out her escape plan. The original plan was simple: Steal one of the trooper’s uniforms, take a personal aircraft, and fly out of the cruiser before anyone noticed anything was wrong. It was so easy, like taking candy from a baby. However, a stray off-patrol trooper had caused quite a predicament. She had taken care of both of the guards in the data room, and she thought she was in the clear. She was taking one of the trooper’s uniforms when the door slid open, and staring her down was a pale faced young man, who looked like it was his first day on the job. They both stared at each other for a few seconds, before she raised up her blaster. She rarely used her blaster: it was only for emergencies. “Dead people leave a trail,” her mentor had always told her. This was an emergency. As she squeezed the trigger, she looked into his face. By her guess, he was only about nineteen or twenty, barely an adult. The Federation had a bit of a habit of “recruiting” young men from the planets they “allied” themselves with. Just one of their ways of “keeping the peace” in the galaxy. She squeezed the trigger again, but she was only reminded of her own brother, who was the same age when he was killed for standing up for their freedom when the Federation had invaded their own planet, and who was also the reason she had decided to join the rebellion. The reason she was on this ship. She ran past the rookie trooper, and kept running until she heard the alarm a few minutes later. Now that they knew she was here, things would be much more complicated. Instead of taking one of the guard’s uniforms, she would have to go straight to the barracks and get one there. Not only that, but the landing bay would be under red alert, making things indefinitely harder. “I’ll just cross that bridge when I get there,’ she thought to herself.

She approached the barracks, and slid open the door. It was completely empty inside. “Thank goodness…” The red alert must have distracted the troopers and sent them elsewhere. She reached into a locker and pulled out a uniform and helmet. Just as she was doing so, she heard the door slide open, and a quick gasp followed by “INTRUDER! INTRU-,“ but before he could finish, she had him sprawled on the ground, unconscious. She lifted him into the now empty locker, with the door barely closing. And with that she slipped the uniform over her outfit, and put on the helmet. It was a lose fit, but it would have to do. Now to the dock. She sprinted down the hallway. She didn’t have a lot of time, after an hour of red alert, the dock would automatically shut down. As she rounded a corner, there was a slam, and she found herself on the ground and her helmet had flown off. “OH! Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…here let me get that for you.” She saw a pale, shaking hand pick up the helmet and hand it to her. “H-Here.” She slipped it on, trying her hardest not to show her face. When she was sure it was firmly secured, she looked up. It was him. The pale young soldier she had seen in the data room. “I didn’t mean to get in your way sir, I’m so sorry,” He said shakily. She grunted and nodded, and dashed to the nearby elevator. “Hey, wait! you dropped this… this thing…” It was the drive. The drive that held the entire schematics of the ship. She snatched it out of his hand, and fled into the elevator and pushed the close door button as fast as she could. “That was WAY too close…I need to focus…” She thought as she descended in the elevator. The doors opened to the dock, and it was chaos. Soldiers were running everywhere, and service robots were gliding across the floor like no-one’s business “Perfect, no one will notice me.” She sprinted to the landing floor. She had even picked out which ship she would take when she was making the plan. She scoured the landing floor until she spotted it in the distance. The Vector C-Class, Expedition Edition. It wasn’t the fastest or the prettiest, but it was what she was most used to flying back at home. She started toward the ship when a trooper wearing a general’s uniform stepped in her path. “HALT! Where do you think you’re going, trooper?” She gulped, cleared her throat, and put on the deepest voice she could. “G-General, I, um, I’m just heading for th-that ship there…sir.” “While we have an intruder on deck?? I don’t think so! Show me your Trooper I.D. this instance.” She panicked, and thought of all the curses in all the cross-galactic languages she knew. She started to stutter. “I.D. NOW!” “U-Uh…G-General, I-I…” “General Rainer, what do you think you’re doing!”

Her heart stopped, and she turned around. It was none other than Lorn Vonden, the Chancellor of the Federation. “Oh, Chancellor, I was just stopping this soldier from using one of these ships.” The Chancellor stepped forward, his unnatural height looming over both of them. “Even after I’ve issued a special order to pursue the unknown spacecraft roaming around our cruiser?” The Chancellor said. “tsk-tsk, you of all people should know what happens when Troopers disobey orders, Rainer…Besides, we don’t want to scare our recruits, do we?” He put his hand on her shoulder. It was freezing cold. His yellow eyes stared deep into her face. For a second she was worried he could see through her helmet. “O-OH, why yes, of course Lord Chancellor, please forgive me.” Said the general as he did a sort-of half bow. The Chancellor looked at the ship in front of them, “Ah, the Class-C…a personal favorite of mine…well, I mustn’t delay you any longer, Trooper…” As he said this, he strengthened his grip just before letting go. She ran to the ship, climbed into the cockpit and started off. As she looked back, she could see the Chancellor, staring at the ship with his cold, yellow eyes. She waited until she was a good distance away until she took off her helmet and put the ship on autopilot. She felt her shoulder where he touched her. It was still as cold as ice. She shook her head and lifted up the drive. I hope this was worth the anxiety. She thought as she punched the ship into overdrive and warped into slip-space.

If I Could Walk on the Moon By Menley Clayton I go to take a step and my foot takes too long to reach the ground. The earth is there in the distance — smaller than I remember it. It looks so delicate from so far away. My heart feels so light, almost as if my worries stayed on earth where they belong. On the moon I am free from the struggles of the life I left on the planet I call home.

A Walk on the Moon Alice McPhail Across her still and cratered skin I drag my aching feet, And though her air is gaunt and thin I raise my hand to meet Her surface like an un-cracked egg, Convulsing as with thunder. And when my body’s hurled to space I’m surely torn asunder. 9

Space Wonderer Brennan Teeter i often day-dream of a place a place i have missed for so long to see the radiant bending glow on His face as we float lighter than air. now my time has come where i must go to choose a place that suits me, between a place i have never belonged or a place that gives me such an excitement that i know i belong. i know now that with Him i donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t have to belong as long as i am with Him there is no need, so long.

Queen of the Moon Anna Rose Myrick

Here in space, I float, Nothing to hold me down, i have escaped gravityâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s grip , and bestow upon myself a starry crown

Dreams are Berry Things Mary Greene Dreams are scary things, full of nights with blueberry kings. They’ll find your family and take them away It’s up to you to save the day, but alas it’s the Blueberry King with his berry sons. They’ll eat your family, gobble them up. Little darling one you’ll never wake up from the dreams of scary things. Elements Carrington Fowler “Where are we going?” Leon yelled above the sound of the rushing water. “This is so cool!” Jake bellowed, ignoring him. Personally, I was also wondering where we were going. We were on a boat, Jake, Leon, Rain, and I, and we had no idea where it was headed. See, we had each received letters in the mail telling us that our presence was requested at a meeting for gifted youth at a small restaurant in Brooklyn. We had all attended, alone, and a woman named Olive informed us that we weren’t at a meeting for gifted youth at all. Instead, the letters had been sent by the government. To our astonishment, we were then whisked away to a top-secret facility. Olive and a few other agents then instructed us to get into a boat, and after we obliged, they pushed us into the ocean, and soon we couldn’t see the shore. Jake and Leon continues to yell, but Rain said nothing. She simply sat by the edge of the boat with her hand in the water. She felt the current against her palm and smiled. When she noticed me watching her she said, “Come.” I timidly sat down next to her and she turned back to the water. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she whispered. “The water I mean. I’ve always felt like it understands me. Do you feel that way?”

Upon seeing my confused gaze she said, “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. It’s just that nothing can capture my interest quite like the water does. It’s...almost like magic.” I hadn’t been confused because I didn’t understand. I was confused because I thought that I was the only one who felt that way. Only not with the water. Whenever there was a storm, or the clouds covered the sky like the softest blanket, or the wind blew directly into my face, I felt it. That feeling. Like an electric surge pulsing through me, a spark that I couldn’t resist. It did feel like magic, but I had never thought of it that way... It was no surprise to me that Rain had. She always seemed to think of things in a different way than everyone else. Just by speaking to her for a few moments, you could catch a glimpse of just how brilliant she really was. She was exceptional, as anyone could see. And there was always a sparkle in her eyes that pulled you in. Her dark, silky hair swished around her small face, making her appear even smaller. And when she walked, she moved with a certain grace, as though she were simply a cloud floating by and would evaporate at the lightest touch. I had never had a friend before, and I was starting to hope Rain would be my first. I tore my eyes away from Rain and took in our surroundings. We were definitely on an ocean, but which one I wasn’t sure of. I took in a deep breath and was hit with a wave of salty sea air. The smell reminded me of the annual trip to the beach Miss Hattie used to take me and the other orphans on. I felt a pang in my chest. Could I really be missing the orphanage? It was much too lonely, with all the other girls having their own friends and thinking I was strange. Still, it was familiar, where I had lived for as long as I could remember-14 years, to be exact. It was a home of sorts. I was torn from my memories when Jake shouted loudly, “Aha! I have discovered our location!” “What? How?” I cried. “Well m’lady,” he grinned, “by using my advanced locator skills, I have discovered that we are in-“ “The Atlantic!” sighed a frustrated Leon. “And you didn’t figure it out, I told you five minutes ago!” “Why does it matter?” questioned Rain. As everyone began to tell, I spotted something on the horizon. “You guys!” I shouted. “Look!” A majestic castle loomed out of the waters. It was made of the purest silver, and it shone in the moonlight. It was like nothing any of us had ever seen. It had towers and turrets, spiraling up to the sky, until they could no longer be seen. It looked as though it were made of the stars itself. “Oh,” breathes Rain, her eyes sparkling more than ever. Jake stood still, his mouth opening and closing. He looked a bit like a goldfish. I would have laughed if we weren’t staring at a castle looming out of the ocean. Leon was frantically looking through his maps. I reached over and set the papers aside. He finally realized just what we were looking at.

We were all mesmerized by the castle’s stunning beauty. It could not be compared to even the Taj Mahal itself. It’s grace only increased as we drew nearer. About ten minutes after we first saw the castle, we hit the edge of a dock. A heavy but not eerie fog hung in the air so that we couldn’t see past the edge of the boat. After a few minutes of silence, Jake stood up. “Well,” he said, “we can’t wait here forever!” With that he promptly walked off the boat. “Jake? Jake!” called Leon as he ran after Jake. I wondered what to do. Rain was staying on the boat, but Jake and Leon could be in trouble. I was too afraid of getting lost, so I stayed. Just then, a woman spoke somewhere in the mist. “What are you doing out here?” she asked. I heard Jake stammer and figured it was safe. I stood up and began to follow their voices. Rain stayed close behind me. As soon as we stepped onto the dock the fog disappeared. Jake and Leon were standing in the dock in front of a woman with long blonde hair and brown eyes. When the woman saw Rain and I she raised her eyebrows. “Where are these children coming from?” All four of us began to talk at once. The woman took a step back and said, “Woah, slow down! You must be here to see my boss. I’ll take you inside and you can answer to her. I’m Tiana Williams, by the way.” Tiana led us to a gorgeous staircase leading up to the castle’s huge marble front doors. “Cool!” Jake exclaimed, running up the staircase. I winced. I felt as though the castle should be revered, respected. Tiana glared at Jake and he cowered under her gaze. She opened the marble doors and what lay inside made us all gasp. It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen in my entire life. An entrance hall stretched out before me. It was bigger than any room I’d ever been in. The marble floors were lined with that star-like material, and giant pillars reached up toward the ceiling, which was nearly to the sky. The the left was the grandest staircase I’d ever seen, in real life or fiction. The the right corridors turned and twisted out of sight. People bustled around carrying various items, while others sat in the comfy yet regal chairs scattered throughout the room. “Woah,” Jake managed to say. “Woah.” Leon was ecstatic. “Look at this architecture!” he cried. “And these floors!” Rain seemed to have run out of words, but her delight was plain on her face. “It’s breathtaking,” I told Tiana. “Hurry now children,” she said. “My boss will want to know you’re here.” She led us down a corridor. After what seemed like hours of walking, we reached a door. Tiana opened it and we entered the room curiously. At first glance, the room appeared empty. Then I noticed a book in the back of the room. It was on a plain wooden shelf and it’s pages were yellowed with age.

I was surprised to see that it didn’t fall apart completely. I barely had time to look however, for soon a sparkle began to grow in the center of the room. It grew larger, larger, larger... “Oh!” Rain gasped. A woman had appeared from the sparkle. She was tall and her hair was made of the star-like material, as well as her dress. She had light brown skin, dark eyes, and a delicate yet fierce face. She radiated power, but I felt safe just looking at her. “Ah, Tiana,” she said, “I see you have welcomed our guests. “Yes Luna,” replied Tiana. She left the room without another word. “Where did you-” Leon began to ask. “No time to explain. Your training must begin immediately. Upon seeing our confused looks Luna said, “As you may have noticed, you each have a connection with a certain element. This bond is unique and special. Unless you learn to control it, it will become dangerous. That is why you must sign the book and claim your element. Only then will it claim you.” This was happening too fast. My head was starting to spin. Slowly, I began to realize what was going on. I couldn’t do this! “Rain Celeste Heart, sign the book and claim the force of water.” Rain walked up to the book and it turned itself to a specific page. We could hear the scratching of a quill, then rain returned to us. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes were still sparkling. “Jacob Aiden Pipers, sign the book and claim the force of fire.” I expected Jake to make a joke of some kind, but he actually looked serious for once. He signed the book and walked back, looking shaken. Everyone’s somber attitude was beginning to scare me. “Leon Shirley Southers, sign the book and claim the force of earth.” Leon’s face turned bright red and he looked scared as he walked toward the book. He signed and practically ran back. My turn. “Evelyn Grace Greene, sign the book and claim the force of wind.” Wind. I knew it. As I walked toward the book I wanted to run away. When I picked up the quill, I was so scared that I almost dropped it. I nearly misspelled my own name as I signed. When the book closed, the pages created a massive wind. My hair was blown back and an instant calm washed over me. I felt a sense of pride at having claimed wind, and I walked back to the others smiling. Luna beamed at us. “Children, join hands,” she instructed. I grabbed Rain’s hand, the she grabbed Leon’s, then he grabbed Jake’s, then Jake grabbed mine. I saw Luna smiling right before I closed my eyes. Then we were gone.

Fighter Mary Greene I run the risk and the washing machine. I sweep the floor with a grand ball gown. I make your bed a castle, I clean the streets of your kingdom. I mow down fear in the backyard. I run the risks and the washing machine.

Pattering Chloe Vizier Every night I hear the soft patter of footsteps down my bedroom hallway Although when I go to see them, they disappear. I dismiss it as imagination, a mere mirage of mysterious steps. Although as soon as I return to bed, the pattering returns, more pitiful than before. As if the pattering was asking for me to seek it further, to go visit it in the silent night. But I didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t, I stayed quiet in my bed, trying to hide under the mask of slumber. Although I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t hide for long, the pattering trailing from the hall, to my door, to my bedside.

The Willies Alice McPhail A plastic doll in party garb I crushed beneath my feet. I tore sweet barbie limb from limb And basked in her defeat. I gave no gifts. I was a child Who fashioned plastic to a shiv. I gave adults the willies; It was all I had to give.

The Night Goes On Brennan Teeter the Night goes on forever and never ending where dreams beckon you on always waiting for the Dawn like i said, always waiting. waiting so long itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s been an eon the Night goes on. you open your eyes hoping that it is Dawn

but the Night goes on you wish your eyes were working always waiting for the Dawn

Mental state Mary Greene A smile crawls up on my face and my lips split open wide. My heart falls out of my body and my ribs split open my sides. Eyes bright, face white. The chill plucks apart my spine and my arms burst open wide. My knees drop down in the dirt and my skin bursts off of my thighs. Toes tight, lungs light.

Timeless Dominique Horton Letters. Lost and sometimes collect mold. Lazy or bold. Lavish and worth more than cold. Legendary like stories that have been told. Longing ones have been sold. Legal ones are often cold.

The Man-Made Object Alice McPhail Possum Hole, Alabama (population 200) changed its name to Swallow Cliff in 1968 for advertising purposes. No one had moved into town since its founding. Visitors came, but rarely on purpose, and never for more than a night. They were men with blinding smiles and crisp suits. They were lost drunks, road-tripping college students, and stray dogs. Once, during a flood, a visitor came in the form of a bawling infant cradled in a wicker basket (a good story for another time). Bo MacIntire, owner of MacIntire’s 24-hour Creamery, served visitors dutifully; though more often he served locals, and even more often he sat alone in a booth and watched football on his grainy nine-inch television screen. Bo was blunt, his body the width and texture of an ancient tree trunk. He walked with a lumber and spoke in low grunts, when he did speak. Most importantly, he was filled to the brim with affection for his town, like all its citizens. Visitors could come and go, but the spirit of Swallow Cliff persisted. It had been years since a visitor last blew in and months since Swallow Cliff gave up and called itself Possum Hole again. “We don’t want no visitors nohow”, said the mayor’s official press release. “Possum Hole”, read the welcome sign, “Come for the hospitality, stay for the ice cream”. It was three in the morning when a stranger arrived. His suit was cleaner than the normal visitor, his smile whiter. He approached MacIntire’s 24-hour Creamery. He was hungry. Bo looked up from his football game when the bell over the door jingled. The Stranger wanted a vanilla, double scoop, please. (His voice was like the crinkling of tin foil. Dirt crumbled from his fingernails.) “Here you go, son. Welcome to Possum Hole.” Bo’s hands shook. The Stranger was very grateful, and have an excellent night, sir, I hope to be seeing you around.

The construction began later that morning, and so did the murmuring. What is he building? Why weren’t we told? The mayor hadn’t left his house in days. Bo MacIntire tended his shop. It was what he did best. “I don’t like these strangers coming in here thinking they own the place,” Leon grumbled at Bo one afternoon in the shop. Leon was a friend of Bo’s, small and fat and always prepared with a gripe. Bo patted him on the shoulder on his way out. Leon stopped coming in for ice cream. There were more strangers now - still building, always building - and the Sheriff had stopped leaving his house as well. No one looked at the strangers. Their smiles and suits were so white now that most people felt they could not look. They were here to help with the construction, ma’am, they would say, when asked. No one asked any more than that. At three in the morning, every morning, the strangers entered MacIntire’s 24-hour Creamery. They were hungry, Bo could smell it seeping from their dirty fingers like mildew. They were so hungry. They asked for a double scoop of vanilla, thank you very much Mister MacIntire, we appreciate your service to this town. Sometimes they spoke over one another and Bo’s ears rang. The Mayor, Sheriff, and Deputy hadn’t left their homes in weeks. “I went by to check on them… nothing,” Jeremiah, whose long nose hung over his thin lips like awning, told Bo conspiratorially over the counter.. Days later, Jeremiah too stopped leaving his house. The construction continued, and so did the murmuring. Annabelle, a waitress with a severe lazy eye, tilted her head to the side and proclaimed “It looks like a bird”. Ed, her customer, blew into his coffee and said “No bird looks like that.” Annabelle and Ed shuddered in unison. They both stopped leaving their houses. There were more of them now, their feet their feet kicked up dust around them but their suits stayed immaculate. Every morning they took up more space in his shop. Their faces were different, hungrier, their teeth long, sparkling white, gnashing. They piled in, door to counter, clambered on top of each other, reaching, grasping for a double scoop of vanilla with gnarled hands, thanking Bo one voice on top of the other, screeching clanking metal.

No one left their houses anymore, no one but Bo. He tended his shop. It was what he did best. The strangers paid him no notice but to receive his offering of ice cream. There were enough strangers now to fill a town of their own. On the day the construction ended, Bo MacIntire finally looked at what had been built. The construction crept skyward for miles, a monstrous temple. The strangers packed up and left the next morning, but not before a final double scoop of vanilla please and thank you, and it’s been so nice getting to know you Mr. MacIntire, we hope to return very soon. On the way out of town, the strangers shuffled their long, bare feet through the gravel, suits never becoming any less clean. “Swallow Cliff ”, read the sign, steadfast and friendly. “Come for the hospitality, stay for the ice cream”.

Oracle Ried Smith Stone scrapes over stone, as the ancient doors recede back into the wall, revealing the overgrown chamber. At the center was a derelict altar, with a single chalice. The contents of this chalice have been said to reveal the future to whomever drinks it. Luca had been searching for this chalice for years, desiring to quench his thirst for knowledge. He had finally found the shrine after taking a chance on advice from a disheveled old man in a bar. There was a cave in at the shrine sometime long ago, as pieces of the ceiling lay strewn about the floor near the altar. Beams of light shone through the hole that had been left in the ceiling, and they shone directly onto the chalice. Luca wasted no time to get to the chalice. He slid his hands around the brim, and glanced inside. It was a dark liquid, yet light at the same time. it seemed to flow in slow-motion as he moved the cup around. It smelled of stardust and the cosmos, and reflected his own image within it. Bracing himself, he lifted the cup to his lips, and drank. The liquid was searing hot. He could feel it flowing down his throat, burning as it went. As it passed through he felt a strange sensation of peace and turmoil. He feels each atom of his existence being woven and unwoven at the same time, the knowledge bestowed upon him too much to bear. He opens his eyes and sees he is no longer in the shrine, but rather a white plane of nothingness. Endless realities fly past him. Futures that will happen, and that will never happen. Pasts that have come and gone, and not yet come to be. The knowledge of all civilizations flow in-between his brain cells, and find their place among them. Luca attempt to close his eyes, but is unwilling to. His children, grandchildren, their grandchildren, their great grandchildren flash before him. Visions of the people he knew and the people he will come to meet. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s all too much for him, he wishes it could stop, he wishes he had never come here. He succumbs to his own will and is finally able to close his eyelids tight. Decades later, he finds himself sitting at a bar, an old man, hiding from the scholars of society. Too afraid, too scarred, to share what he has learned. A young, bright eyed adventurer enters the bar, seeking a great treasure. Taking a seat next to Luca, he speaks to him about a chalice that supposedly lets people see the future. Reluctantly, Luca tells him. 21

Breakfast Griffin Hardeman The eggs were sizzling, the bacon popping, Father sat drinking his coffee. Mother wore a bright blue apron all the children yet to awaken.

Wouldn’t it be mice? Alice McPhail Mushrooms grow like capped silos And wave their steps to tell, “As you devour the mushroom, We devour you as well.” Wheel of Cheese Menley Clayton A wheel of cheese who speaks in squeaks But not of the mouth it is without. No, it communicates in senses it dispenses forth. It tells you what it knows to show you that it’s really alright to rewrite yourself. 22

â&#x20AC;&#x153;I Wantâ&#x20AC;? Creative Writing Class of 2019 I want a castle of gold, I want to wander its halls and graze the amber skin from its walls. I want to feel the salty air. I want to run and leave my worries behind. I want a penguin without a tux. I want a throne made out of starbursts that never goes bad. I want to hear the color yellow. I want a dragonfly that uses its firey breath to melt sand for its stained-glass wings. I want everywhere on earth to always be the right temperature. I want to hear the voices within while touching the galaxy. I want my friends to love themselves the way I love them. I demand the world stop fighting. I want that special feeling that gives everyone in the room a sense of camaraderie, and taste the sweet victory of achieving dreams, smell the ocean breeze, secretly thrive. I want to be able to say what I feel. I want the world to be so gently cupped in a bowl of fine china, to look to the sky and see the swirling porcelain pattern in the place of clouds. Take it or leave it.

Teapot Mary Greene I am partial to you teapot. I am partial to the end you usher into the day. The kettle holds a special place with me too, of course, but for all his wonderfulness he does not hold the tea. Into you I plop those little crack baggies. Black for when I first get home or peppermint maybe. Some rose, lemon, or lavender to finish up my work and begin to settle down. A cup of chamomile to drift off in the bath. I love the baby dragon puffs that roll up behind my eyes each time I douse a new bag in Kettle’s hot water. My witch’s cauldron. Water to wine under your lid. In water goes, out manna flows. Haughty little molecules curling deeper until each H2O is coerced to dance, worn down to sleep - drifting handing hand in a numbed swirl like a blurred Starry Night. They sleep across my lips and into my gut where matches are struck at their arrival. Creeping to every last cell. The tips of my hair are stained. It’s all thanks to you. Without you I’m weak, I weep, I scream. I’m overwhelmed with fatigue but I find no ease. My body squeezes and pleads. I shrink to my knees; I see a sea behind my eyelids of tea you made for me, but I can’t pry it free from my sleep weary eyes. Im beat, beat, BEAT, week, EEEK, PLEASE! The kettle is ready, remove from he… the burner. Look there at the kettle, metal. Silver and black. The bags on the counter. The Pot. The crack. I loved you, I used you, Perhaps I abused you. three loads a night, another come day break. You broke. We broke. I am sorry. I miss you. I wish you could do more than sit on my sill. Your beautiful still. Sometimes things are so good for you, you can’t see the bad that it makes you do. Like routine over and over for years. I will to leave you, never - nor replace you… just fill the space you used to. But not so often. Perhaps it’s better to emerge from a crack like fresh skin than to mend it. 24

Logical Fallacy Garret Grove I bought a brand-new Camry from the dealer down the street It has pano-sunroof and safety tech that is on fleek. I drove it down to my friend’s house during the same week And the A/C died while driving in the Mississippi heat. On the way back home, the engine just gave out. I got so darn mad that I just moped and pout. My friend picked me up and we just talked about How my Camry I bought a week ago just tapped out. He told me plain and simple “They’re not good cars. They’re not as good and proper as the Jaguars. Though there are also many other automotive stars, a Toyota is the most worthless one by far.” I reflected on this, and realized he was right. My new Camry couldn’t even last seven nights. You say my cooling fan was not bolstered on tight? Well they’re not good and proper cars, so get them out of my sight! 25

Mississippi Gothic Bianca McCarty You awaken late at night. The cowbells are ringing, but it is not the State fans ringing them. There is not a game today, but the cowbells ring. There has never been a game ever, but the cowbells ring. There have never been any cowbells, but still they ring. The football team travels every other Friday. They travel to places that you’ve heard of, but never been to and don’t know where they are. When the players return on Monday, you ask where the game was. “Three hours away,” they say, but everything is three hours away when you don’t know how away it is. There are too many pine trees. Too many pine trees that grow in straight lines. Someone must have planted them there, but you don’t know who and when you ask the only answers you get are screams. You shrug. There are ponds in the Delta. They say there are catfish in there, but they say it with a distinctly uncatfish-like way. You don’t know what is in there, but you know it is not catfish. All of your female classmates return from summer break with lemon blond highlights in their hair. You ask where they got them done. “They’re natural,” they all say in unison, smiling wider than smiles should be smiled. “Come honky tonk with me,” they ask, but you know it is more of a demand. “What is a honky tonk?” you ask, because does anyone really know? Their only answer is a threatening gesture that you dare not repeat. You go honky tonk with them, but you still do not really know.

You are in a pickup truck. You aren’t sure how you got in the pickup truck, but does it really matter? You guess not because there is country music on the radio. You like country music. Everyone likes country music, even the ones who don’t. And we don’t speak of the ones who double don’t. You turn to the Southern boy driving the truck. You aren’t sure he’s a boy. He could be either sixteen or forty. Bowl cuts are ageless. “Has anyone ever actually had a party in a cornfield?” you ask him, because he seems like the type that would know. His stare is blank. The woman at Walmart knows you. All the women at Walmart know you. They surround you, asking about your mama and your daddy and your sister and your brother and that new puppy you adopted from the shelter. But you’ve never had a puppy. You don’t tell them this for fear they will strike. The kudzu doesn’t listen when you yell. No one listens when you yell, especially not the kudzu. “get off of my telephone pole!” you shout. It does not listen until you send for your goats. “get off of our telephone pole, please,” the goats whisper. “okay,” says the kudzu quietly. “all you had to do was ask nicely.” You remember what your mother taught you. “always be polite.” You didn’t know it applied to kudzu.

the season we met Anna Rose Myrick I wish i could live in an eternal autumn the season we met Exploration Mary Greene baby pebble tumble down make my eyes go round a round pop down in the water deep baby pebble not to keep super smooth and baby sweet underneath my baby feet baby pebble, baby me pebbles in my baby cheeks

The House Across the Street Alice McPhail Grim and piercing are their eyes; They follow slowly, Distantly. They stand off-kilter, swarm like flies, The cats are watching Watching me.

Mittens Anna Crout There in a group of giveaway kittens, Small, grey and furry was my cat, Mittens. Tiny and cute, she needed a place. We just couldn’t say no to that sweet little face. Bundling our fur ball, we gave her a home Where she could explore, wander and roam. Six years she has slept and eaten and pounced. We all are amazed at how high she’s bounced. My family loves my sweet feline friend. The joy she’s brought us will never end!

I’ve Never Been to the Beach Abia Walker Her fear melted like her ice cream in the blazing summer heat “But there might be sharks,” the butterflies whisper “And crabs will pinch you where you lay” She gets some ice cream to settle her stomach, but the butterflies just won’t go away Bodies against sun and sand and water, not scared, no butterflies to beat, Her fear melted like her ice cream in the blazing summer heat

Thunderous Lullaby Dominique Horton Crash, louder than cymbals, Brightness streaks across the sky. Racing heart whilst her screams and sobs fill the air, Young ears rung and hurt. Now she sleeps like a young child in their mother’s arms, Each crash, boom, and flash is a natural lullaby, Lulling her to sleep in a loud and soothing way, When nature begins to screech. 30

Cyprus Tree Menley Clayton 100-year-old Cyprus tree Surrounded by Cyprus knees. People take pictures of me and the creatures that always are gathered around me. It fills me with so much delight to be a pleasantry to those who might see me and wonder about the world that is under their feet but forever out of sight.

Seasons of Love Anna Rose Myrick you are springtime and sunshine, when everything is in new as bees buzz and flowers bloom, so grows my love for you you are the cold, blizzard-filled winter, when the snowflakes begin to fall, you and I are frozen in time, and the warmth of your heart will bring us through it all you are the brisk and cool autumn, when leaves travel to the ground like pieces into place, I know that we will last because in your arms I am safe, I am sound you are the bright and iridescent summer, with the sunshine beaming on my face though the tides of this ocean come and go, my love for you will always remain the same it matters not the hour, the day, the time, or season i will always love you without condition, without rhyme, without reason

My Friend Brennan Teeter My friend the Shadow O where do you go When the Sun is shown You are here to stay But when She goes So do you.

Force of Nature Anna Rose Myrick sometimes i think youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re an ocean i drown in you, in your eyes my lungs fill and fill and i sink down and down but i feel more and more alive sometimes i think youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re the sky there is no limit, you just take me higher and higher so far up, away from all my fears and not for a moment do i think i will fall sometimes i think you are ice, when i look into your ice the world ceases spinning and time stops ticking, and its just you and i, frozen in time sometimes i think youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re fire contagious, wild, and untamable, impossible to stop you set my soul ablaze with love and past heartbreaks i have forgot 33

Flower Nathan McNabb My tiny flower, You smell so good, I pluck your stem, And for a day you are beautiful, but you wither away.

Nurture Mary Greene You have a sickening howl, like a heart beat. It comforts me. A motherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s heart beat. Your lush dress is ripped and patched with silk stings. Your clear watery eyes consuming, and almost but never spilling. you have barren snarled eyelashes and sand rows off your cheeks over the mud puddles that freckle you. Flowers bud on your lips, and when you open your mouth they flood out along with greenery of all sorts. I could curl up in it, was it around myself. There is another lonely girl. Lava gurgles in her feet. It overflows and runs. When she walks she leaves bits of herself behind, but she picks up gifts from you and the melt into her. The lava spits up inside her when she moves. When she dances it flies. You seep into her and she is less lonely. Your litter: dead leaves, snow, mountains worn down to a single pebble. You feed her, you sheik for her, you use your breath and tears to rip off limbs and ooze milk for her. 34

You carve through your skin with your nail and when your dark pulp seeps out, you ignite your palm with a snap and press onto the wound. You burn alive and let her crawl inside. You let it cook where no one looks. Water brims your eyes and sand pour out. It catches on the mud and barely sprinkles down on the flowers that reach just beyond your mouth. Th lonely girl rides out with the shrubs. She is burnt and clean. She is lonely, but robbed in moss with silk patches and fresh watery eyes. 35

Underground David Warnock He woke up. Not from a coma or anything dramatic. He realized he wasn’t where he fell asleep. A strange new place with no natural light and one flickering lantern. It looked like a basement, but not one he’d ever seen before. The walls were lined with hundreds of dull, rusty tools. His leg felt numb. He looked down to find a piece of metal in the middle of his thigh. He had to find out where he was. He tried getting up only to find his efforts quite fruitless. He just couldn’t muster the strength to push himself up, let alone walk. He tried taking out the metal in his leg. Upon closer inspection he realized what it was. A pair of scissors. His head began hurting as he started visiting his memories. He thought to himself, “I-I did this.” He didn’t remember quite how but remembered that he did. Just what was going on. He was missing time, not everything was piecing together, and where in the world was he. Trying to relax and process this information, he leaned back into what sounded like a fence. When he turned around he saw something that no one would ever believe. A whole new world different from his own, only underground. A world completely underground, never to be found. Yet, he found it. He had to tell somebody, but first he had to remember anyone he could tell. He managed to stand himself up. He limped to this building he saw. It was obviously for medical purposes, as it contained several syringes, needles, bandages, and surgical masks. He saw something else, something from his own personal life, his cell phone. It rang. He was scared to pick it up, but he gave in to his curiosity. The voice that answered was his own. It explained that he created this world, but had no control over it. It explained that he was experiencing something unique. As scary as this scenario was, he couldn’t help but feel as if this was the sort of thrilling experience he needed in his life.

As he exited the building he found himself in a new place, one with an open area. It was painted with familiar patterns: a soccer field. He started to remember. In the field he saw his childhood friend, the one he shared so much of his time with. She was the one that moved on to greater things, the one that grew as he stayed the same. She was “the one,” for him at least. The field darkened, the dirt above him caved in, and he found himself above the earth. He missed his opportunity with her once, he couldn’t miss another chance. He clawed at the ground to get back to that place, the one where “She,” was. His efforts were meaningless; he couldn’t go back. He realized what it was, everything clicked. What he saw, that place, those were things he could not obtain, a place where he was shown his mistakes, a hell of his own. A place where he would always suffer, created by his own feelings of guilt and desire. He woke up, in his home. It was Monday morning about two a.m., it was all a dream he realized. A pencil poking his leg, he realized that he fell asleep during his essay. The dream went just as easily as it came. It would be lost from his memory, never to be thought of again.

Perfect Romance Mary Greene The drops of water bore a hole in my skull, I’ve dug six feet down with my hands and found a goodbye note, My knees are rusted bent, my stare is dull, I drank the ocean and choked on the getaway boat. You could tell perfect time by my heart, or by the shadow of the chair where I sit, There’s a map of the world in my scars and a compass where the lioness bit. I couldn’t reach if I chose, to dust off my nose, My red cape’s in the air, but red bull’s never there. Are you on fire?I’m on fire, Im burning alive, put me out with your eyes. Light me up, make me cry. Do you sit here all day? Those books on the shelf, have they ever been read? They’re as heavy as lead with the dust and decay. Are you all by yourself? Is your lip always fat? That hole in your shirt, did you rip it on glass? Have you torn up the grass and clawed at the dirt? Do you always look as lonely as that? Here, I got your coffee, two sugars no cream. Thanks, I swam all night, for miles, upstream. Here’s your paper, and just like that it’s time for work. …why were you swimming? Our first bottle of wine, I dropped the cork. It rolled off the terrace and down to Paris. I had to swim half way to hop on a train to Australia, where a rattle snake told me a riddle to beat the devil at fiddle, an one I flew on the wings of a crow and caught the midnight show of the Parisian ballet and shot the valet because he stole the crown of the Russian in town, who got me my cork and the Devil drove me home. 38

Oh, I’ll see you at eight. Just like last night. When you lassoed the moon. Stop, I can let you go. If you don’t I’ll be late. If I do you’ll get promoted, and voted, and raised, and your scars will fade. Stay, pray, strike up the band, cut off my hand. It’s worse if you go. I can hear the water drip and my lungs won’t expand. I’ll stake up a match and burn off my legs if it’d get you the drops, the measly dregs the elixir of life from God’s final batch. Exhaust. Exhilarate. Never could anticipate. Dry eyes, my work is late, never could anticipate. My stomach is churning, my sheets are turning, tossing my lunch. I don’t know where to stop, in the air, under water, with one foot in the ground, with a snap, rip my body in half. He could weave bone with his breath, filled the hole in my head, but eh books were all lead, and now that they’re read my brain is so heavy and my heart so fast and my ribs hold it back I’ll break them in half. Stop! Sit. Close your eyes. Drink this water. Tip to the side, let it soak up the meat and drip out your ears. Put your feet in the salt, it will pul out the weather. Let your fingers be idle. I’ll have never been here. Stop! No, open that door! I have to be more. The water drips down and rusts in my knees. Come back, don’t work! Pass me a fork, I’ll shred myself open and put back what you took! At least leave me a book…a look

When Menley Clayton Life passes by, and I’m left behind while everyone moves on. I’m blinded by their achievements and watch them all succeed, but I am stopped in my tracks far behind them all. I sometimes want to join them but nightfall comes and pulls me back to where I knew everything was safe, and I watched through the glass of the window imagining false scenarios.

War Madalyn Weisenberger Guns popping, bombs exploding. Screams of people, buildings imploding. War has ravaged this once beautiful city, The victims of battle were granted no pity. Hundreds dead, then thousands, then millions. The amount of money spent reaches the billions. When will our violent race realize it’s inhumane? When will we come to our senses and finally refrain? When our anger is spent, who’ll hold the last whip that lashes? Amidst the smoky, bloody fog, who’ll be king of the ashes? Because when the day is done, the truth remains the same. 40

Sugar Coated Salt Mary Greene Goodness gracious, grateful girl. Growing girls get growing glad. Gaping gazes, grouping gourds, grassy, grabbing, gather games. Go gone glad girl, gracefully. Gorging grapes gets grouchy gourds. Goodness gracious, gobbled girl.

You Took My Breath Away Brennan Teeter All these thoughts flowing through my mind as I can hear the pounding and pulsating of my broken center ringing in my ears. “It can’t be,” I thought to myself. How could a person who had just recently entered my life leave it so soon. Without warning or saying goodbye. With a hundred tons on my chest and as I drown in a sea of tears knowing that I will only see you one more time as I let you down for the last time. I find myself in a corner wanting to spill my guts everywhere and the room is spinning so much I just want to fall apart more than I already have. My sister has always called me a sociopath due to my lack of empathy in the fact that I hardly shed a tear. Or maybe I was waiting for a category five hurricane to shake me to my core and break the levees that are in my eyes, that have held their ground for almost two decades, to just have all the years of heart break pour out of my broken soul and to continue without end. It had been hours or maybe minutes I can never tell when I have no control. Control. What an interesting concept. To think that anyone can control anything that is outside of their own personal thoughts is childish. But my personal thoughts are not my own. I need a distraction. I need someone to be the light at the end of the tunnel, but it seems that my light was fading and fast. No hope and walking around blind; worried to trip and take someone down with me. So of course I ask for no help. I only stay quiet and smile every so slightly to throw off suspension. All I can think is “Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.” and how can they not be one in the same. To lose someone close to you is to lose apart of you. And to think I have to go through all of this again in three days. How will I survive?

Today is the day. The day I say goodbye to you forever. It has been three days since I shattered into a million pieces, picked them up, and now to do it all over again. At school I have been hiding from my friends. Maybe not physically but hiding behind a smile none the less. Some have caught on to my ‘I’m fine but not really’ vibe. They truly know me. But I can’t let them in. I can’t let them know that their friend, the one who always cheers them up, the one who always has a smile on her face, is weak. But they don’t really know about the stranger turned family in a matter of months. Someone who I could have seen walking down the street and had not given a second thought toward. How can the thought of you leave my heart hurting and my bones aching. Me wanting to call even though I know deep down that this is real and that there will be no answer. I walk into that terrible room late due to me changing my outfit nearly a dozen times worried if he would have approved. I think “How would anyone be able to do this for a living?” I can smell the salt in the air and then it hits me. The feeling of being utterly alone. I had accepted it but never really processed it. The definition of being alone is to have no one else present. But yet I was surrounded but tons of people. And yet it feels as though I am the only one here. Who is the one I can confide in? Who will be my light house in the sea of despair? For now it will be me sailing alone in the vast sea of wonder. Wanting and waiting to see a light house on the horizon. That flicker of hope will soon be back once more. I hope. Years have passed, the pain has eased. And yet no one speaks your name. Many don’t even know you, and when I bring you up they are surprised and ask question. I politely answer but I keep it light-hearted not telling them the complete truth. Is it wrong? I don’t know. Maybe. But it does save everyone the awkwardness of the mood dropping right then and there. So for now I smile and nod when you are mentioned. And talk as if you are still here keeping your memory alive and well. 43

He Never Knew Anna Rose Myrick It was never supposed to feel like this. I was never supposed to end up this way, but somehow I did. I don’t know how, or why, but all I know is that it seemed to creep in slowly and then all at once. “When did you first notice something was wrong?” she would ask me. “I don’t know. I guess it could have always been there. But probably not, it seems more recent. But then again, I feel like I’ve always been this way,” I would go around and around, backwards and forwards through every event of my life trying to pinpoint exactly where I went wrong. “Tell me how you feel regularly, on a scale from one to ten,” she would say. And as always my brain would freeze. I was happy this morning, but I cried before noon. Early in the afternoon, I felt motivated, empowered, but by five I was ready to give up. The truth was, I didn’t know how I felt. I never knew how I felt. And nothing made me feel more numb than that. “Five,” I would always say, because it was always best to be in the middle, and not the extreme. She would scribble down in her notepad, she’d tell me to keep up the good work, and I’d leave her too-cozy-for-comfort office. And once again, I felt let down. This was supposed to help me, so why do I only feel worse? Every week I’d tell myself “Just go one more time. Maybe today will be the day.” But it never was. 44

You can only pop so many pills and pour all your problems into a person so many times before you wonder if youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re truly beyond help. And then you reach that breaking point that you vowed youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d never reach. You hold your end in your hands, and you stand on a precipice for the hundredth time, thinking that this will be the time you will finally lose your balance and fall. I was here, standing on my personal precipice, ready to fall. Willing to fall. I was ready to take the leap, and feel the wind rushing up, up, up against me until finally, whoosh! The cold, salty water would engulf and take me away from everything, and I would surrender myself to it. But then unexpectedly, without warning, a light broke through the surface of the ocean, miraculously reaching down to the unreachable depths of my despair. Him. He was the saving grace I needed. He never knew it, but I held on because his light shone too brightly for me to never see again. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d never tell him, but his heart shielded me in a time where he would have least expected it. He was worth it. And somewhere along the line, living for him turned into living for me, and living for me turned into living for a new hope.

Dear Younger Me Menley Clayton Dear Younger Me, I know you better than you know you. I know your thoughts. I know your opinions. I know how much you want to be accepted. I know how bad it’s going to get. Sometimes I wish I could go back to where you are. But, love, it gets bad. And I don’t think I would live through it twice. You won’t be able to see sometimes. You’ll want to forget so much. You won’t forget all of it, no matter how much you wish for it. You witness more than one shooting star. But by the third one, you’ll stop hoping so much. Love, it gets bad. I know. I wish I could protect you from it. But all I can do is wish you good luck. And tell you that I love you. -Older You

i let you go Anna Rose Myrick i let you go the way trees let go of autumn leaves and on the ground I waited for the winter to wither you away

The Girl’s Secret Dominique Horton Drifting in darkness, Looking out of windows that are her own eyes, To others she’s in a daze. Inside everything she felt is numb, As time goes on she drifts to sleep, Waking up with no memory except, Her unhealthy escape from reality.

Believe An Ant Amiss Talk to him Listen to him Believe The world burns Friends leave No one cares Say you won’t Tell him you’ll change Do the same thing Go to church Sit and listen Believe 48

oceans of grace Anna Rose Myrick i am forever in Your loving arms And swimming in your oceans full of grace through the cold winter days and summers warm Your love shields me from all sorrow i face today, and each day, i give you my heart Because You will take care of it. How can it be that you love every part of me? Countless sins, but you love me anyhow Lord, let your power reign and glory shine For all to see. I will worship your name for it is holy and good and divine worthy of every piece of my praise I will praise you now and forevermore for it is You I’ll always adore

An Ant Amiss Grasping for air. Tight Stomach. Thoughts are out of control. You go into a dark place, your feelings go numb. The only thing existing is you and your anxiety. It grows and grows until it consumes your very last breath, and in the end anxiety wins.

His love Anna Rose Myrick I sang over you, before a word escaped your tongue Only goodness will I give you Every breath you take, is a breath of life I’ve given to show you kindness, My child I love you to heights you will never reach, to an extent you will never fathom Unconditionally , I pour my love into you, until you overflow My love will find you, and embrace you, and hold you until you know you aren’t alone And in seasons when you turn your face from me, Still I will remain here, arms open wide, ready for the day you run back into them And in those breaking moments when you feel no worth, know that a thousand crosses are worth having your heart there is no wall I wouldn’t kick down no shadow I couldn’t cast away no lie i won’t tear down for you.

An Ant Amiss I stumble. I fall. I mess up. Feeling worthless, unloved, and lost. No one to turn to, no where to go. I find my self at the Feet of Jesus, praying till I can’t anymore. The feeling of forgiveness overwhelms me. My chains are gone, I fall but this time I get back up. I mess up, and immediately God fixes it. God gave me my worth, my love, and found me. Forever, my life has been changed. Forgiveness.

Disaster Before the Musical Abia Walker Freeze I need to have a conversation with my wife So many distractions, the crisp air, the excitement of the musical, the lights The gold in the air catches the gold in her dress—no, I mustn’t I deserve the mess, but my wife doesn’t Wait Who’s that sitting there with her deep in conversation? They lean close towards each other, getting closer, oh damnation! I just can’t help it, before I know, it’s out of my bag, Click ~Two seconds before disaster~

Chad David Warnock When she sat down with that other guy She crushed my chips and my heart. We were supposed to be bound by soul, never pulled apart. In the cafeteria we would sit, All the love I would get. But now you sit with Brad, Making me feel like a Chad.

Till Death Do Us Part Douglas Watson Since the first time I laid eyes on you I knew you were the one, At so young of an age I didn’t know what was to come However, I know our love was strong From my mind to my body, I gave you my all I gave you my heart, Because you promised me so much more Fun, happiness, love, and joy I’ve made so many sacrifices, And in return you’ve given me many opportunities You’ve taken me so many places, And I continue to make memories with you bouncing by my side I will forever love you Basketball, Till death do us part

Life Brady Johnson Life, full of highs and lows, can change in any instant, but how you respond cements the direction in which the rest of your life goes. A common problem among kids today is the lack of adversity or difficulty they face throughout the early years of their life. Since kids grow up with things being “handed” to them, reality really hits them like a truck once it’s time to grow up. I will be the first to admit that I have been rather spoiled throughout my childhood, but sports has given me many highs and lows through success, failure, happiness, and sadness. I grew up having a passion for baseball, but in ninth grade, that passion was thrown a curveball. I tried out three different times for Madison Central’s baseball team and never made it. At the time, I was forced to make a decision on whether I still wanted to play or not, so I decided to transfer to St. Joe to continue playing. My sophomore year rolls around and I found out that I was ineligible to play because of a transfer rule. Throughout that year, I worked incredibly hard because I saw the level of play that I would have to replace my junior year. This first little bump in the road taught me perseverance, hard-work, and commitment. Junior year meant I finally got the opportunity to play baseball again. We had a new team who didn’t have much experience but we were excited and hungry for our time to shine. “They are rebuilding this year, they lost 10 seniors; they will not be any good, they are too young, they have no experience.” All these comments were being thrown around about our upcoming season Johnson 1 which put a huge chip on our shoulder. We wanted to prove everyone wrong and do what no team had done in forty-one years, win a state championship. Months later, we find ourselves in the biggest game of our lives, game three of the State Championship. Champs at last! At this moment, everything I faced coming into this year felt like it had paid off. I was at the highest of highs and had every intention of building off this going into my senior year. Humbleness, joy and blessed were just a few words to describe this experience. It truly was a dream come true. 53

Senior year was shaping up to be the best year of my life; everything was going well for me and I thought I was invincible. Personally, I had expectations that I would have never imagined years ago. Little did I know, something as silly as church league basketball would ruin all of the expectations I had. A week before our baseball season started, I tore my ACL and both meniscus with four seconds left in our church league game. At that moment, it was like a continuous nightmare. My parents, coaches, and friends had all urged me not to play but I figured nothing would ever happen to me because I had played for four straight years. Just like that, my life had gone to the lowest of low. Heartbroken, sadness, anger, pain. I was devastated. To be honest, I still do not know what I have learned from this because the agony is still within me. I believed that there are bigger and better things coming my way in the future, but not being able to see those things has really made it difficult for me. Witnessing the highest of high and lowest of low within a year really make me appreciate the good things in life. Adversity is not something people look forward to facing, but it is those who face it with courage and strength who will come out a better individual. The lessons I have learned through these experiences will stick with me forever and will continue to better me as a young man.

O, My Dearest Brennan Teeter O, my dearest, how you build me to up to bring me down Your smile always beckoning But there are daggers in there. You support me in my successes but you always turn to something dark. So eventually I get the courage to leave. After that I am still heartbroken and bullied. It takes me two years to trust and gain another. O, my dearest, so sweet and carefree Puts me first and above thee I am not worthy of his devotion And yet he happily gives it to me Never leaves me when buried in sorrow And teaches me fly like a bird for the first time His honey suckle windows always read my mind And the way his tornado swept hair falls perfectly without him trying. O, my dearest, thank you for walking up to me.

Happiness Dominique Horton Those three words that change a life— Brighten smiles and makes them brighter than the sun, Eyes glisten and sparkle when this phrase is heard. Hearts set a-blaze like bon fires, It’s desired to be heard by many, And make hearts beat like drums. It does not grow old or weary, Always worms it’s way in slowly, Even the toughest and coldest are conquered. Love. That’s what it is, love.

A Woman Named Sin Anna Rose Myrick He spent what felt like hours thinking and thinking about it all. How could she have done this to him? How could he have let her do this to him? He had missed every warning sign, every red flag, and he felt like the king of fools. Everything came rushing back to him like a kaleidoscope of once beautiful, now tragic memories. Their small talk, the drinks they had shared, the parties, and the office shenanigans. It all at one point had felt so normal, so good, so right. But now, he could see how horrible, how wrong it all was. He had been deceived. Everything about her had pulled him deeper and deeper into the situation that had caused this mess. Perhaps if he hadn’t fallen for her smile, or her eyes, or her voice, he could have saved himself some trouble. The night they met kept playing over and over in his mind. “Share a cigarette with me?” that sweet voice of hers inquired. It was shocking to see that someone so young and so beautiful could be a smoker. He hesitated when she asked, but her eyes were practically begging for him to say yes. “I… I don’t smoke,” he stammered. Or not anymore at least. Her lips pulled back into a smile. “I don’t either, but I felt like being little adventurous tonight.” She slipped a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. “I’ve got a lighter, too.” He looked at the cigarettes in her hand and contemplated for a moment, what could smoking one hurt? “Alright, but just one,” he conceded. She slid off the bar stool, and he followed her outside. She handed him a cigarette and proceeded to light her own. For someone who had never smoked before, she certainly seemed very used to this. “My name’s Stephen, by the way,” he said. “Cynthia,” she replied. “But most people just call me Cyn.” “Cyn,” he repeated back to her. “I like it.”

As they stood, he kept catching himself staring at her. She was lovely. Long, ginger locks hung off her shoulders, her lips were painted red, and her eyes were dark and beautiful. As they puffed clouds of smoke into the cold, November air, he found himself lost in conversation with her. She was single, enjoyed romantic comedies, a cat lover, and interestingly enough, she was an accountant, just like him. “No way!” she exclaimed in giddy excitement, “Where do you work?” “The office building on fifty-third,” he replied “Me too! What floor?” “Fifteenth” “I’m on the thirteenth!” If only he had known how quickly this innocent connection would turn in to not-so-innocent lunch dates and break time visits to her floor. Yes, he was married. But this wasn’t really wrong. His wife had been distant. She had become boring, and quite cold. He deserved someone that could lift his spirits. She was special. She made him feel cared for, wanted. Soon, the lunch dates turned to weekend parties and secret, late night meetings. In hindsight, he could see how detrimental this had been. He became a obsessed with going out to clubs and bars and drinking the night away with her. “One more round!” she yelled. He was quite drunk at this point, but he was ready to keep throwing back shots of whatever the bartender decided to put in front of him. She kissed him on the cheek with her cherry red lips, leaving a lipstick stain. She giggled and leaned in close to him. He lived for this. He was happy. She was happy. They didn’t have a care in the world on these nights. They could let go, have some fun, and leave worries behind. But at some point down the line these Saturday night occasions became an every night occasion. She would beg him to go out with her, and he was stupid enough to agree to it. And for a while, it all seemed fine. As far as his wife knew, he was working late nights. As far as he knew, he was in control of the situation. But after missing one too many days of work, and falling behind with mountains of unfinished paperwork, he found himself without work.

“What do you mean you lost your job?” his wife yelled. She wasn’t completely stupid. Firing someone that worked until midnight every night? Thats pretty hard to cover up. Maybe he should just tell the truth. “Look, the company is downsizing, it’s out of my control,” he lied. That night he sat on his sofa, considering all his options. He realized how wrong he had been. It was her. Since the minute he met her, everything had been on a downward spiral. He had been a good man. A sober man. Now he was a smoker, an alcoholic, and an adulterer. Every wrong decision he made was because she had lead him to it. He could see every single time that she was knowingly bringing him down, and it wouldn’t stop until he cut her off. The following night he met Cyn at the bar per usual. He was ready to end it. This could not go on any longer. She sat close to him like always, giggling and flirting and planting frequent kisses on his lips. ‘You have to do this. Now,’ he told him self. He turned to her. “Listen Cyn-” She interrupted him with yet another kiss, but he pulled away. “Stop. This has to stop.” “What do you mean?” she pouted her crimson lips in her little way. So manipulative. So cunning. She wasn’t fooling him. Not this time. “You know what I mean. We can’t keep doing this.” She said nothing. She just stared back at him, as if he was joking. He didn’t really know what to say. But he felt he needed to say something to break the silence. “I’m sorry I just-” he cut himself off. His eyes looked past her to the door of the bar. His wife was standing there at the entry way. Their eyes met from across the room. He panicked, shaking his head at her as if to say “this isn’t what it looks like.” Before he could even have time to think, she had gone back out the door. He quickly jumped off his stool to chase after her. “Wait! Wait!” “Forget it, Stephen. It’s over,” she said.

“Wait just let me explain! It isn’t what it looks like,” his voice was shaking. “Then tell me why she kissed you.” He paused. “Yes, she kissed me, but I was telling her that this had to stop and -” “‘This?’ As in, this has been an ongoing thing?” He went silent. He couldn’t lie anymore. “Yes.” Without another word she stormed to her car. and drove away. He had to get home to make this right. He turned to go back inside and pay his tab, but there was Cyn standing right behind him. “You caused this. This is your fault! I should I have never, ever gotten involved with you!” his voiced was getting louder and louder. Anger was raging in him. For just a moment, she looked sorry for him. Then her lips, her blood red lips curled into a smirk. “Baby, you did this to yourself. I just happened to be present to watch it happen.” “I hate you. I hate you! Leave! Get out of here!” he couldn’t bear to look at her for one more second. He had lost everything at this point. She walked past him, confident as ever. She stopped to look back at him. “See you around,” she sang, not even attempting to hide her cattiness. And now he was here. Sitting on the edge of his bed. His wife had left, and wasn’t answering his phone calls. He pondered his thoughts. It was all her. All along she knew exactly what she was doing. Manipulating him. Lying to him. He hit rock bottom. She had bought him a one way ticket there. There weren’t words to explain the person she was. She was just Cyn, and she had gotten the best of him.

Sonnet of Thought Anna Rose Myrick your name remains in my brain, an echo that rings over and over again. You’re sitting so close, I don’t want you to go. Im feeling something like never before You smile, I smile, and everything feels right Your wide eyes shine bright than all the stars I look into them and know I would fight for you, and nothing will tear us apart i have been grey for quite some time now. Will you make a rainbow of me? You are my drug more intoxicating than any pill Say I’m yours, tell me Im the one you love I’m longing for something more with you. Oh, Do you know how far for you I would go?

Expecting Mary Greene Sometimes you reach in for a cookie and there’s two stuck together. That’s you. My two little sweets. One with chocolate chips, one a sprinkle of cinnamon. As if you’re from two separate batches, yet you’ve found each other in my oven. Golden bunnies in my arms, rocking in cat’s sunbeam. A puppy to lick your sugary cheeks, your candied rosy buds. Teeny toes, coffee’s cream, milky skin. My little loaves, life will always be sweet if there’s sugar on your tongue. 61

A Tale As Old As Time Brennan Teeter She takes her Time choosing, Making sure that she knows which one she wants. Pulling both of their heart stings just enough To keep them infatuated. She gave one a Title but gave the other her heart. The two great loves shall fight to the Death For her Honor. Only two foreseen outcomes shall occur, The Knights fight to the death for her or They leave this Damsel in distress for someone worth fighting for. Alas the valiant nobles do not see through her facade. How the Mighty fall, O, how the Mighty fall in Love.

2.14 Alice McPhail Golden sunlight filters through The gaps between your teeth, And through the space between each rib, And buried deep beneath. And in the span of infinite Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re buried deep in settled scores Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll feel the touch of soil And combine my germs with yours.

Don’t Say Goodbye Brennan Teeter Don’t say Goodbye, That way it won’t be final. If you do I could never look upon you again. Though it is proper to say Bye, I need you for Survival; I am alone in the World, this harsh terrain. You do leave after all with a sigh, But you don’t say the words that cause my deprival; You say you’ll see me again. Now I wait for the day to come and stay. I Fall to pieces waiting on your arrival, Forever in wait and Time, She’s insane. She stops to pester me, why? I hear laughing as She ticks but never changing Her dial, I go mad with the waiting; insane. One day She takes Mercy on my cry, And the World returns him back to me after a while At last he is here with me again. Though Time was a cruel mistress and shy, The World was not, the rival Pushed His way through Her vain. Don’t say Goodbye, That way it won’t be final. If you do I could never look upon you again.

A love so sweet An Ant Amiss A love so sweet, with passion and peace His demeanor so nice and neat My love for him will never decrease My happiness in human form He fills my cup with joy This feeling is not the norm What a wondrous boy Relationships are hard to win but weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll never lose he will always be mine until the day we both shall snooze

Forever & Always An Ant Amiss When I first saw you I knew what did I know? It was you You are the one My forever My always I knew youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d become

Being Human An Ant Amiss What does it mean to be a human? It means to be imperfect It means to be fallible It means to have emotions It means to have a purpose in life This may sound like a bad thing, But the alternative is worse. Not being human means No emotions No enjoying the joys of life Not having a purpose This would be a perfect world without these human downsides But this world would be meaningless

Life is Emma Kaye Beebe Life is like an airport, Everyone has baggage, But most are overweight People are like light poles, Some vibrant, Some flickering, and some are dead People are like noses, Some big, some small, Some real, some fake Life is like a car, Some are beat up, Some smell bad, But you always get where you are going

New Chapter Camillia Goodloe A chapter of my life is quickly coming to an end And a new one is slowly starting to begin. High school is slowly winding down There’s no doubt I will have a frown With graduation approaching fast I’m living every moment of high school having a blast I know the Lord has great things planned Because I’ve put it all in his hands I’m looking forward to the blessings the Lord has in store Because this year has brought me many opportunities and much more Having the Lord apart of my life Helps me through all the pain and the strife I live by Psalms 37:4 A verse I truly truly adore

Are Those Chickens Playing Beyblade? Alice McPhail They sling their blades In joy, in pain? These Chickadees Are off the chain!

INDEBTED Lake Dodson Ah-Ah! At last! You show your ugly face to me! Do you not remember the day? Today is the day you shall pay! For I remember when you asked for a dollar, straight from my wallet only. You bought a bag of pretzels, pay me back, or perish!

J Menley Clayton Just think of the ones who join together to jeer at the jaunty hats on the heads of the jiggly, wiggly animals typically referred to as jellyfish. They have no joy or fashion sense, so their juvenile style is justified. Their only redeeming quality is their juggling ability which strikes jealousy in those who watch. 67

WHAT CANNOT BE REPAIRED Lake Dodson It was filthy, the whole room was a mess The clothes thrown on the shelf, the books all jumbled, the bed unkempt, what first should I address? How could I not say a dirty mumble? My feet are submerged in an ocean of underwear, pants and ties, Like an avalanche, tumbling down, I collapsed on my back, Right onto the shag carpet that I played on since I was five. I look at the clock, ten ‘till 7, it’s about time I hit the sack I wobble to the bathroom, the stubble on my face grows long, my hands cover my eyes, But I cannot hide from reality, so take down my hands, and put them at my thighs I peek at the counter and feel I were shocked with a taser, I must face the grim reality, that I broke my favorite razor.

Germ-X David Greene Those bears are white Those bears are black Oh no my best friend just fell through an ice crack But he’s ok because why not wow that volcanoes really hot.

Acceptance Mary Greene carrots roll like a wagon wheel off my plate. bye bye carrot. roll away like a red balloon off the table. bye bye carrot.

Spoons Ried Smith I really like spoons You can hold some things like soup spoons are most useful

The Biggest Lie About Living Noodles Dominique Horton

They say snakes are scary, but they contain the coldest blood of all, and are the quickest, most soothing creatures. In reality they are just cold limp noodles that at times are harmless like earthworms with teeth.

Binge-watching Burrito Dominique Horton Items needed: • comfortable and fuzzy clothing • blankets • pillows • fan(optional) • snacks • drinks • television and remote or laptop • a dark room Step 1: Put on comfortable and fuzzy clothing Step 2 : Find a room with a television or grab a laptop Step 3: Find a comfortable place on a couch or your bed Step 4 : Gather blankets and pillows Step 5: Lay the blankets down and layer them Step 6: Set the pillows on top where they’d offer the best comfort Step 7: Gather snacks and drinks Step 8: Organize the snacks and drinks to be within reach (Optional: Turn on the fan to low and set it to oscillate) Step 9: Turn off the lights Step 10: Lay down on the blankets and cover your feet with the edges of the layered blankets before wrapping yourself with them while leaving your arms with space to move Step 11: Turn on the television or laptop Step 12: Start watching movies or television shows

A Trip to the Fair Abia Walker Today had gone exactly as Why had planned it. He had taken time to pick out the perfect date(not to close to their anniversary, not too far from his birthday), and chosen a reservation at a restaurant they had only seen from the outside. The food was good, the vibe was great, and now they were at the fair. He could tell something was bothering Miley, but he had to keep his eyes on proposing, whatever the problem was could wait. Why kept searching the map for the Ferris wheel, but he couldn’t find it anywhere. Oh, there it was to the right of the Ring of Fire. “WYATT” Miley screamed suddenly. Caught off guard, he answered, “Yes, it’s this way.” How long had she been calling his name? Doesn’t matter, stay focused. He hadn’t been this nervous since he had to give his valedictorian speech in high school—and he had thrown up. Hopefully history wouldn’t repeat itself. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~during the ride~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Why, I have something to tell you, and it can’t be avoided any longer.” “Wait, no I have something to tell you—well ask you first.” “Why—’’ “Miley will you—” Sploot Miley had combusted. Blood covered his entire body. He looked to the left to in fact confirm that she was no longer there. He looked to the left and screamed. 71

An Ant Amiss Studies have shown that few things cause students more stress than excessive homework. But nevertheless, teachers dole out assignments like cookies and pies completely indifferent to their students’ cries, thinking they’re strengthening each students’ mind while the students are struggling and falling behind. They stay up all night seeking help from their peers. Sleep? What is that? Haven’t had it in years! “Do this paper, these problems,” it’s strife after strife.

Hope An Ant Amiss There’s a famous quote “When I breathe, I hope.” But in reality the phrase ought to be “When I hope, I breathe.” Hope moves. Hope cares. Hope aspires. Hope breathes. Hope is what holds the world together and inspires forward movement. Toward a brighter future. A happier life. Bigger dreams. Toward breathing.

School Time Blues Mary Hazel Bellan Summer is coming but for now I am blue, for I’m forced to spend endless days trapped inside school Soon the sun will shine bright up in the blue cloudless sky, but for now I am blinded by harsh fluorescent lights I can’t wait to sizzle and scorch in the sun, but I know I must wait until all my homework is done I’m oh so tired of staying up late, studying non stop just to get good grades Is it really worth it? I’m not sure anymore. Endless days in a desk quickly turn into a bore Summer can’t come fast enough I know this much is true, But for now I am trapped inside my desk with the same old school time blues

LUNCHTIME Kaycee Jackson On schooldays, we eat outside during lunch. If you were to come out there, all you would hear is “crunch!” and sometimes even “munch”. We also like to play with the geese, and we don’t leave the turtle’s out, unless they begin to act like beasts. and then we all start to go “ouch!” Laura Catherine always has a salad, and Alin has too much food. But Laura Catherine is not valid, and when it comes to sharing Alin is so rude. and I hate when the heat is too much to bear, and I wish I had a fan, or sunglasses like my friend Clare, but at least we’ll get a tan!

see me: An Ant Amiss you make me feel as if I am buried six feet under You make me feel like magnificent lightning so rudely interrupted by thunder I feel as though I wear a mask of your face, But in truth it is you that wears a mask of mine You shove to the front, I stand behind and the crowd cheers your name, giving you sweet, sweet praise

blue velvet An Ant Amiss i wore a dress of blue velvet and a smile of pearly white your eyes that night, iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll never forget as we danced under the moonlight you held me closer than ever, my heart beating out of my chest its in this moment i know that you are one that i never, ever want to forget

The Box Nathan McNabb A young boy, in a land currently untouched by civilization, living with his grandfather for all his life. But like most good things, his grandfather passed away and had only left him with a small metal box, no bigger than his palm, with three locks on the outside of it. The boy, while not having the key, didn’t care for what was in the box though. For him the box was all he had from his grandfather and in a sense, was his grandfather. He genuinely believed that this box was his grandfather and, would let nothing happen to his grandpa’s box. But that could change so quickly, with the arrival of one young girl. The box had given off a small energy signal, so faint and so small it wouldn’t be noticed by any normal device. But this girl had something different. She had been tracking the box using a small device specifically designed to track the weird energy signal form this cube. This forest was still very dangerous though, for as stated before living beings there hadn’t been touched by humans for thousands of years. But the girl was more than prepared for all kinds of situations. She knew what she was getting into when she went to look for the box and its keys. And she had already found two of the keys required, but she still needed the box itself. Fast forward a few hours, she was so close to the box she could practically grasp it. She happened upon a small shack, where the faint signal was coming from; also, where the boy currently lived with his box/ grandpa. Knocking on the door she couldn’t wait till she had her dream, for the box was rumored to give someone’s greatest desire to them. But who opened the door was a chubby, little, boy, maybe not even taller than 5 feet. No, never mind that, for she just wanted to get her box and leave. “Do you perhaps have a small metal box with, uhhhh, I don’t know, 3 locks on it, maybe?” The boy, utterly confused by this question replied, “My grandpa?” “Uhm, no, it’s a small box with 3 locks, not your grandpa.” “So, you want my grandpa?” 77

The girl was dumbfounded. Did this kid not know what a box was or something, and why did he keep talking about his grandpa? She didn’t understand what was wrong with him, but she agreed to see his grandfather. Maybe he would know where the box was. She went to see his grandfather with him, but she did not see another person in the small shack. Was his grandfather not here? Or maybe he was hiding? This was becoming all so weird, and she didn’t like it too much. And then she saw what she had been searching unrelentingly for months. A box with three locks sitting on a cushion in the back of the small shack. Unable to control herself, she went to grab the box, but the boy was too fast for her, and grabbed the box before she could even lay a finger on it. “Why are you trying to grab my grandpa?!” Now more confused than ever she finally put the pieces together. “Soooo, your grandpa is the box?” “Of course, who else would be my grandpa?” What. This kid was delusional. Absolutely mental. And this would also make it very hard for her to get that box if this kid had a familial relationship with a box. “I’ll get right to the point, how much will it cost to buy your grandpa’s box?” “My grandpa is not for sale!” As expected, the kid was not giving her a chance to buy the box. She had an idea, but it was a bit of a stretch. “Your grandfather is actually broken, and we need to fix him. I am with the Grandfather box repair company and I need to fix your grandfather immediately.” But to no avail, he violently shook his head. Finally, after hours of convincing, she decided to ask him, “Would you perhaps like to come with me.” “You and your grandfather please.” After a few minutes of thinking and some questionable gestures, he decided to go with her, with his grandfather. He had never left the forest before and thought about how fun it would be to see new places. And with that they started their journey. 78

CLASS OF 2019 Kaycee Jackson The end of the year is coming so soon, but I thought I had so much time left. I wish I could turn the clock back like how it does noon, because time is one of natureâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s greatest things. At first we were happy to be leaving, but now we want to stay. Now we are all grieving, and cherishing everyday. I will never forget these friends I have made, because they have shaped me till this day. People keep telling me that I will go to college and upgrade, but I can wait a little longer till May. I miss the times where we would just go out and play, but now all of these memories have faded to gray.

What You Need To Write A Poem Brennan Teeter 1/2 a cup of rhyme 3 tablespoons of meter* *make sure to watch your Thyme 1 or 2 mechanical wands a 1,000 bounded sheets and a boundless imagination

Index of Authors An Ant Amiss Bebee, Emma Kaye Bellan, Mary Hazel Clayton, Menley Crout, Anna Dodson, Lake Fowler, Carrington Goodloe, Camillia Greene, David Greene, Mary

25, 48, 49, 51, 64, 65, 73, 76 65 74 3, 9, 22, 31, 40, 46, 67 29 67, 68 11-14 66

4, 11, 15, 17, 24, 28, 34-35, 38- 39, 41, 61, 69 Grove, Garret 25

Hardeman, Griffin 22 Horton, Dominique 17, 30, 48, 56, 69 Jackson, Kaycee 75, 79 Johnson, Brady 53-54 McCarty, Bianca 26-27 McNabb, Nathan 34, 77-78 McPhail, Alice 9, 16, 18-20, 22, 29, 62, 66 Myrick, Anna Rose 10, 28, 32, 33, 44-45, 47, 49, 50, 57-60, 61 Smith, Ried 6-8, 21, 69 Teeter, Brennan 5, 10, 16, 33, 42-43, 55, 62, 63, 80 Vizier, Chloe 15 Walker, Abia 30, 51, 71 Warnock, David 36-37, 52 Watson, Douglas 52 Weisenberger, Madalyn 40 81

Index of Artwork Bellan, Mary Hazel 22, 27, 28, 41, 74, 75 Crout, Ben 64 Dear, Hannah 52 Dodson, Lake 8, 17, 20, 22, 79 Garcia, Alin 5 Greene, Mary 11 Harkins, Claire 31 Harrison, Kiland 35, 56 Ignatius, Andrew 66 McPhail, Alice 1, 10 Osbourne, Olivia 47 Teeter, Brennan 23, 83 Smith, Jessica 72