LitMag by Arabia Mountain High School

The

RAMpage presents...

FICTI

POE

TRY PH

R OG

The

Cliff

ARABIA MOUNTAIN HIGH SCHOOL

Spring 2014

Poetry

Ode to the Ac

by Aquantus Goodson Oh the Ac… Oh so sleek, petite, and mystique. I love all your beauty marks, especially that windshield crack. I love your perfected physique. All those other cars are mad whack and they need to fall back. Since the first day your leather has been molded to me like clay. Remember that time we almost hit that tree? Your beautiful metal is so real and true. The mileage will only bond us closer and closer each and every day. I will never let you free ; I love you to the E.N.D. I love you Q Babii.

Confusion

by Carlya Hart Confusion The word to describe your smile When I catch the sight of it When I do It draws me in & I want to discover the deepness Of your mind Which is like the ocean With a profoundness No one has ever come to know I want to uncover your secrets Listen to your issues Resolve your dilemmas You and I are so alike But equally as different We are from two different worlds Yet from the same

You're so dissimilar to me Than from when we first met There's so much more to you Than pure surface can tell You've changed my views And my thoughts With your old soul And rare brilliance However, We cannot be My mind won’t allow me But my heart is beginning to alter Set me free from this chaos Set me free from this mayhem Set me free from this confusion That I feel when you smile And I catch sight of it

Ode to Mi Amore by Brandon Ejike

How do I describe such a beautiful jewel If you cannot see such beauty, thou must be a fool Thy love is deeper than the deepest ocean, more grand than someone’s great grandmother This love is only big for us, of course, no others How can express thy love to mi amore? This jewel is more than beauty, it’s simply extravagant I am no fool. I am in love with someone magnificent Thy love is like the sparkle in your eye, lighting up the night sky. This love is hard to come by, better than a slice of apple pie, my-o-my This is the start to how I express thy love to mi amore.

Pink by Kabrina Lytle Pink is so amazing It always keeps me in the streets blazing Oh how I love the color pink When I’m out all the boys look and wink Oh my gosh! I just love pink I’ve never worn more comfy clothes I wish I could purchase all of their clothes If I did I would look cute and comfy everyday Me and my girls always have the boys looking our way

Swim

by Alexis Johnson I am confined in a wall of dead weight and walls Already down deep no where to fall The constant push and pull no loonger sway me I see no her, nobody will save me I am stuck In the waves of their voices I am pushed Graduating In the current of their customs I don’t belong here by Veronica Lightburn, And they let me know But I can swim A moment I’ve been waiting for The only way out is to swim Accomplishments accomplished Then float, on the surface Cap and gown, navy and hunter, Smiles, grins, lights. College around the corner, Friends leaving as well. GPAs actually matter, Acceptance letters arrived. Walking into my future, Not just across the stage, Moving my tassel, Let the new life begin.

It’s My Time

by Destinn Middleton

It’s my divine time To succeed and not to raise crime The clock is running, no time to waste I’m starting this race on a very fast pace. Since a toddler, I’ve been dreaming And since then I’ve been thinking What if I fail in my tries? But I remember the sky is the limit, So why would I no try?

Senioritis

by Kilee Burton Sitting here waiting Watching the clock slowly tick Tic toc Tic toc The days go by slowly It's April and May is nowhere in sight It is getting harder to wake up in the morning Pushing the snooze button once again Trying to find reasons to stay home The mind is elsewhere, floating in the clouds May is finally here Graduation is full speed ahead Seinoritus is getting worse The heart is set on graduation The mind wants to sleep in 'til noon BAM Graduation is finally here That was the cure needed all along

Untitled

by Lorenzo Moore Why the good die young, the world gave up on us, that's why we so dumb, barely know right from left, let alone right from wrong, shooting bullets catching souls for some jays and a Phone Some Levi's some trues, nothing but a price tag, a soul for some soles, you really must like that Toughest pill to swallow man can't nobody bite that No amount of shoes will bring Paul samptons life back Moment of silence, stop the violence, more kids in the trap than enrolling in the college, lack of knowledge, no hope for tomorrow, , what can. Brown do for you? Naw tell me what can y'all do. Am I the only one that cares, that the future of the world is literally in our hands, always saying what we cant do, never what we can, boys becoming fathers, too young to be a man, baby baby mommas, to young to have a plan, father punked out, grabbed his stuff and ran, now who is she to turn to? Her parents or her friends? Really either way it go, it's Finns hit the fan, Best friend been saying he ain't nothing to begin with, he a dog he a cheater girl leave it at a friendship, parents go with the told you so's, she don't got nowhere to go, dead end for her to deal with Bring back the real, bring back the real, bring back the real.

Before We All Go by Jordan Dunlap

Hook: We made it so far Made it through the dirt made it through the scars It's coming to an end but before we all go We gon’ all turn up until we can't no more So tonight is our night Only got one shot so we gotta do it right And before we all go Before we all go We gon’ all turn up until we can't no more

Stop with the fighting End all the violence We came here to party forget about your problems Go dance around and let it all out Graduation coming soon time for the cap and gowns Keep your head up never look down They say time is money spend it all now Spend it all now Hook Cause We made it so far Made it through the dirt made it through the scars It's coming to an end but before we all go We gon’ turn up until we can't no more So tonight is our night Only got one shot so we gotta do it right So before we all go Before we all go We gon’ all turn up until we can't no more Uhh

Uhh We been waiting all our lives for this And we only got one night for this So leave all your drama behind And forget what they said homie this is our time Cause the seniors bout to graduate And when we leave the juniors gon’ take our place And I don't know if i'll make it to next day So imma live right now bruh I'm not gon’ wait Don't trip about it homie what you scared of Just let your worries fade like some haircuts Cause nights like these are one of a kind Only one shot to live aim for the good times Cause Hook This ain't no sermon I ain't preaching I'm just saying y'all should chill with the beefing

Untitled

by Miles Bizzle The story of a man. Started off lost, now I'm becoming something. I have faults, some worse than others. All my life I've looked to my father and mother. I've fallen to Idolatry, and my deep idols are comfort, significance, and control. Looking at some females, I pay attention to the beauty they behold. Secrets passed around, from day one they've flooded this earthly ground. I'm just tryna live on this earth and survive, let my cake turn into a pound. Since I was born I've always strived to get the crown, at least be the one up under it. One more time before I see you, after that I won't even be you. That's what I do when I look in the mirror, cause I try to be better the next day, her location to my heart was getting nearer. And what I do? I cut it off, just like a power source. K camp wasn't playing when he said, "It ain't nothing to cut that girl off." But a girl, nah she wasn't that. She walk these streets and cause men to have a heart attack. And that was the problem, I fell to her beauty before I fell to her personality. I felt weak, like what's happening. I shouldn't value her looks, or beauty over her intellectual collectivity. Beautiful creatures everywhere, and as I go to church my Preacher, he says that temptation will be everywhere. It's just up to my faith to see if I'll be able sustain while I live my life. Get this money, get this paper, my dad taught me that while coming up, and a end result was me being pretty dapper. My brothers, I got mad love for them, in return they got mad love for me. I'd give â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;em the clothes off my back, if they funds are low they could have a piece of my economic longevity. Secretively, I'd do the same things for girls. But see lately they've been messing up my world, last girl I was with...She was so good I thought I was loving the world. She had me hypnotized, had me thinking bout committing suicide to my playerlistic ways. After the relationship I saw that this was just a simple phase. I know some dudes out there say mane this is what I want, but it's just something you gotta grow into, you can't force stuff... You just gotta let stuff happen, don't fall too deep because you might become paraplegic and not be able to perform any actions. Any actions of these temptations are regular, look in the bible at the beginning. Adam was a regular. We all mess up, but it's up to us know if we will get ever get up. Never give up, always keep your head up, and get this paper. Look at my pockets now, ten years from now they'll be bigger. What will follow? Plenty and plenty of haters. When I landed on this earth, coming out of my mothers womb I had such a big impact it was like I was a crater. She split me right in half, had me feeling like the equator. She is every girl, because every girl is she. I look at super stars like her, and she reminds me of Whitney. She gone now, or maybe I'm just cursed. Like them chain mails in 2008, I never let them taunt and my heart is never in a hearse. So now I'm looking for one, cause very few seem to be in default. I mean like look at me, these marks on my spirit they're no longer caused by my faults. Idolatry, each one of us has it. As we grow wiser we just can't allow it to have or cause havoc. Thank you, mom and dad I love you. Without you, It'd be tragic, and I probably wouldn't be able to say the three words: I love you. Inay Ovelay Ouyayâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;that's pig Latin, go to google, after that then think about me. From the bottom of my heart, I wrote this with the upmost respect. Sincerely.

Roses by Kessiah Sharpless Some think of a rose as a gesture of love But what's the real love? The real love in holding a rose Is not being afraid to touch its thorns The real love is picking up a rose With disregard to the fear of getting hurt The real love is in your bravery

The Thunder of My Dear Ocean by Nadia Johnson CRASH! SWOOSH! Here it comes again, My dear, noisy ocean, Here it comes again,

What is There to be Changed? by Veronica Lightburn

CRACK! BOOM! My lovely ocean sounds like thunder, Here it comes again, BA-BANG! SWISH! I love my noisy ocean, All the flashes and splashes, It sounds like a symphony, The way it speaks to me BANG! CLAP! It makes me want to sing, Its lovely song, This feels like my destiny, Sitting near the ocean, Letting it sing to me, In its beautiful harmony

What is there to be changed? Everything. From my weight to height & smile Even my weird and unorthodox style It’s something uneasy about me They always say They feel as if I’m in some sort of delay College around the corner With no money to go I guess I need scholarships, and grants, or so There’s so much to change In so little time But maybe the changes needed Are all in my mind.

SLAP! It says to me, It says I write Beautiful poetry.

Be by Tryphene Asra Someone once told me that I am too open with people like a glass house you can see right through I made my home upon flesh and bones so if home is where the heart is I guess I am always at home when I am with people I love like you waking up in the middle of night and knowing the right way through every corner and hallway I leave judgement at the door of my retinas action and sound are given momentum by something deeper I once befriended the most hated boy in the room and that’s when I learnt that people are tidal waves all fury and chaos at the surface but beneath there is an insatiable calm empty and quiet and much harder to awaken It’s simple to say a tree struck by lighting is broken but it’s a lot truer to say it’s broken but trying living and moving on from the burns beneath growing in, out and around the pain There are flowers on my cheeks and dirt on my hands where the richness of someone else’s decay I dared to touch I dared to reach for a hand planted with seeds a body that had not yet discovered how to bloom how to motion out of the wounds how to speak without fear My neck bends like a sunflower to remind me to always face the sun even on days where everything around me shrouds the world in grey I will always look up eyes searching for that sky blue to remember where I came from

star explosion the ground I walk is a highway of everything that once was and will be there is no end or beginning letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s be as infinite as the stars we came from letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s start to sing in harmony bring hands together to the center piece of human history stitch our souls up in the flag of our new identities steal back freedom from textbook theory here we are, here we stand, here we breathe, here we love, we are the dreams that can and should be fulfilled we are written here, with limbs made of poetry we are here above our ruins above our misunderstood cycle of not knowing who we are of being scared of who we are mistaken groups of us versus them prejudice and fear but no longer, not anymore take back words rooted in malice and ignorance replace them with love and acceptance we are here to create ourselves make ourselves we are here just to be

Ode to Life

by Autumn Simpson

As My Wind Sings to Me

I breath I love I laugh I live

by Nadia Johnson

My past hurt Creates my future self Defined by min inner thoughts I live to create my better self

As I walk outside and feel the breeze, I feel the breeze as it whispers to me, This is an ode to live It whispers loud, An ode to love, the ones who have hurt me It whispers soft, An ode to you, and ode to me An ode to life Then my breeze begins to talk, Forget the past It tells me how its world Focus on your future And is disrespected. Create. Define. And It tells me the trees cry, Live life with no regrets It weeps of destruction, It tells me the grass feels dull, Knowledge It gets trash all over it, By Kordell Withrow All the time, They say knowledge is power, but it’s how you use it. It may also weep occaHaving knowledge and information are not transferasionally, ble skills It tells me the ocean They do not translate in the laugage of understandscreams, ing. They are the words we listen to. Merely forgotten. Cans and oil fill it up, But it’s how you use it, it’s how it can use you. It fills it up with tears, Knowing everything is a sad play. Tears of sorrow, But knowning nothing is both a sadder play but an The breeze tells me of exuberant experience something we all feel. All will grow out of it with experience. its sad word, But with it comes a grey place of nothing. Of its world crushing There is no longer black and white— up, Or nearly all black with knowledge or all white with ignorance. He whispers to me But the grey, the grey is what we fear fo not knowing Its our world too. but understand fully, having no idea where to go but having a map at your side, of letting go and holding on. And that is the complexity of man. We know what we want but not what we need. And we will never know and that’s what scares us.

Blurred Days by Mikayla Ray Sometimes I feel like I’m going though the motions Like a flatizza, I fall. I’m like a Harry Potter, wearing pink and all. I just want some cheesecake, from the factory, With so much going on around me. The world is full of chaos, with so much evil. How can you notice the good? People getting shot everyday for no reason. Denise was only five years old playing outside when bullets started flying. The impact knocked her on her back. The blood splattered on the slide for all to see The death of innocence that came to be. People selling deadly drugs like it’s a new poison. My cousin decided to join the gang and after he was never the same. He fell in love with a girl who got hooked. He found he dead, needles on the floor. He couldn’t live with the guilt so he decided to jump— A twisted story of Romeo and Juliet. How can anything change? This is our society so take a look around you. Notice the people who stand by you. If you don’t have family or friends you can trust, Then you better find people you think you can trust. People die and people change. We are all human beings but never the same. Tony died today and there is nothing I can do, His body laying cold on the restroom floor. Going though the motions I show I make it through. Bottle it up, throw it in the trash, and burn it to ash. There is no place for sorrow or pity here. I’m going through the motions, blurred days and all.

Life as a Senior by Joshua McCloud Oh, what a challenge it is to be a senior! The year is supposed to be fun, and one you can always remember. You’ve failed and succeeded your share of tests And your four year tenure guarantees you’re better than the rest. No one tells you that it is also one of the most stressful Because everyone hopes and dreams of becoming successful Witnessing your friends getting accepted into their school of choice While you’re still waiting for your moment to rejoice. Everyone’s path to success is never the same Through everyone has the same objective: to win life’s game. Through the denials you must continue to believe That God has a plan for you and you will achieve. On graudation day you will make the next step along life’s journey Keep your head held high because there’s no need to worry. Make your senior year something you’ll never forget. Stay focused, have faith, and finish without any regret.

Life is a Story Book by Taylor Peters Life is a story book, and you are the author. You make the characters, the setting, and the plot. Every decision you make is another scene. You give the dialogue. You watch as characters enter and leave the story. Your story has started and you are starting to fill out the book. You’re not quite at the middle, but you’re getting there. Yes, you are going to want to stop writing but you can’t just give up on your bestseller. Make the book worth the read. As you come to the end, know that you wrote this book with all your heart, and you know somebody can learn from it. Life is an open, blank book. Pick up a pen and begin to write…. Nobody can write the story but yourself.

Silence by Tryphene Asra There’s a story that has no words in it, and its ours. There’s a story that looks like a shovel and fresh dirt, Not a grave, but close to it. I call it “Almost” and “Thank God.” I call it “I Hope You’re Happy and I Mean That in the Least Sarcastic Way Possible” I know you were reading my love letters, and I know you were trying to find a way to write some back, even though you didn’t have the words. I know I wasn’t the only one terrified, and I know I wasn’t the only one who was made silent by it. It’s okay. We could have had something, but it’s okay. Maybe we didn’t know that we knew better, so we tiptoed around th confession like a landmine that we wanted to dance on. Maybe keeping quiet was the best thing we’ve ever done. I’m smarter now. I thought you’d want to hear that. Now I know what three years looks like from the bottom of a hole I dug with my bare hands. You are the dirt under my fingernails, the hardest I’ve ever worked and the bravest I’ve ever been. We both deserved so much better than the language that I couldn’t bleed. I see that now. At least I got my hands dirty. I’ll always be grateful for that.

The View from My Eyes by Kailah Trice

When I look at the world, I see a face. Forever changing and spinning and serving it’ case. When I look in the mirror, I see a girl, Someone with much confidence to take on the world. If you looked through my eyes, you’d know what I see. You see, I look at things as to how they would affect me. I look at the world and think of all I can do, And how some of my actions could somehow affect you. If you looked in my eyes, you’d see my soul. You’d see my accomplishments; you’d see my goals. Someone who could change the world that you see, Are some of the qualities that exist inside me. I see the stars on TV, and think more of the fact That they could have had a life much more different than that. They struggle, they work, they know what to say. Because they were so confident they would make it someday. When I sit and take a look at the problems of the world There are many different ways they could be3 solved by this girl. I look at my plans and think not of them to fail. Only to bring joy, to prosper, and prevail. I’m too trusting they say; I don’t see danger as it is. The world expects me to judge at first glance. I forbid. I don’t judge how you look, how you dress or what you wear. I judge by the fact that you’re kind-hearted and care. When I look at the world and see all the hate, I can’t help but wonder what will be society’s fate. Must we constantly try to find something wrong? Does no one else think this has gone on too long? I notice little things people do to get by. I’m aware of my surroundings, though sometimes I act shy. I am always thinking so I know what to say. That’s why people are impressed by me everyday. I see many lives get twisted and twirled. I know many face the hardships of the world. I look at these people and think I can help. But I know not what to do, and they can’t help themselves There are bad people in the world, but so many more good, The people who behave like they know they should. I look at these people, who know they can change lives, And see them as heroes, though they say they aren’t wise. The world is a place full of uncertainties, Misconceptions, and trials that all people see. But I feel as though anyone with the will not fail Can overcome trials and hardships to prevail. When I look at the world, I see a place People live, people die, and still leave a trace. Take a minute to think, and you might be surprised What the world will look like, in the view from my eyes.

Photography

Reflection

by Unknown

Pansies

Masked

by Unknown

The Ground by Unknown

Vogue

by Unknown

Starbuck’s

by Eric Murphey

Untitled

by Marcus McKay

Photo Story

by Jalen Arnold

Untitled

by Valeria Lake

Untitled

by Meyanna Gilliam

Fiction

Wither

by Calvin Mayfield Leaf was perched atop Maple’s Protection, growing ever so gradually, with the Leaf’s brothers alongside of the Leaf, ornamenting the trees with a serene, radiant beauty. It was autumn. Such a gorgeous season it was, but so dismal a time as well. The Leaves fall from the Protection of the Maples and the Oaks and the Everest, and are replaced by younglings soon thereafter before the wintertime. Then they are forgotten. The Leaves are washed to shore following the rainy current, or collected in clusters by the Persons, who confine the Leaves into bags and bins It was windy out. Gusty. The roar of the wind was deafening, and the air twisted indefinitely. Falling Leaves ‘round the trees were still rustling amidst the breeze. Bounded Leaves latched helplessly to their Protection, desperately fighting against the rushing gust of air, a sliver of a stem supporting them. A Leaf was uprooted from its Protection, its will sapped completely. The wind stopped. Leaves in flight levitated above the ground in defiance, but the Leaves had already fallen. The Maple seems so tall, thought a Leaf. So vast does the Heavens above

me look now that my stem has been grounded so. Then the thoughts of this Leaf went grave. I have lost my Protection and my home, the Leaf realized. What am I to do? Am I to be eaten by the woodland animals? Will I be buried in the winter snow? Will the Persons come to pave me and my other fallen brethren?

The Leaf lay grounded into the open land, laying there with Leaves that have also fallen. The Leaf was frightened, and concerned. Leaf prayed and called upon the Sun above itself to perhaps ease its weariness. The Sun appeared, and peeked into the clouds and beyond, obscuring the Maple from which the Leaf had fallen from and looked upon the Leaf. What is your bidding, Stem, said the Sun, its thunderous voice rattling the ground the Leaf was now forever entwined to. My Sun, cried the Leaf, please. Grow me into an Everest or a Maple or any

of the Protection surrounding us, so that I may live on as a harvester of my own fruit, and have my own Leaves to Protect. The Sun looked despairingly at the pleading Leaf. I cannot, Sapling, Sun said. You are dead, Leaf; you can no longer grow nor develop. I am unable to revive the grounded, only nurture the living. Look towards the Sky to carry you through your plight, and give you the freedom Protection has taken from you.

The Sun’s form veiled itself behind the clouds. And Leaf now called upon Sky, in desperation. The delicate form of Sky wisped behind the Maple and carried Leaf into its arms inward towards itself to be spoken to. Leaf hovered directly beneath the clouds and above the Maple from which it had fallen. What is it that makes you forlorn so, little Leaf? Said the Sky, calm and gentle. Leaf pleaded to the Sky, frantic and fearful: My Sky, cried the Leaf, please.

With your winds and skill could you guide me beyond the forest and the land and the tree? Take me on a path over the oceans and into the clouds over the cities and the heads of the Persons. The Sky looked reluctantly at the pleading Leaf. Indeed, Seedling, I am able to carry you on my endless flight, but I fear that I should not, for the sake of your

own. The winds get harsher and vastly hectic; I may chip off your stems by bits, or drop you into the forsaken sea. You are merely a Leaf, I’m afraid, you require Protection. Look towards the Heavens, fragile Seedling, so that He may give you a new Protection.

The Sky released the Leaf from its hold, leaving it to float gradually back to the land. The Leaf, so forlorn, looked to the Heavens above and called to the Great Person that stood beyond the clouds. Then the Person surfaced, its form covering all of the sky and all of the Protection and all that was to be seen except itself. He was the largest of the Persons in the forest, and the most grand. This Great Person towered over the leaf like a colossus, and dropped its vision to the grounded and fragile Leaf. What is it that you desire, my Child? Said the Person. The Leaf was doubtful, but clean out of options. Great Person, plead the Leaf, should thee take myself into your Heavens, so that I may live out my life in

full? Can thou lead me into its own Protection, so that I may grow and one day become something of grand?

The Great Person bent its own knee so it could grab the Leaf and hold it into its palm. Then the Person’s brow had furrowed, and He shook His head. Nay,

perhaps I should, and yes, indeed I could take you into my realm, but I will not, my Child. The Leaf was aghast. But what, then, is to become of me, Person? Am I to wither until I am merely just traces in the soil? Am I to fade into oblivion with the Fallen that have come before? But the Person shook his head once again. Not into oblivion, my Child, but into being. Your presence in this life will combine with nature, but your being into my realm will realize itself within your passing. I do not have to bring you into my domain; you will already be there, as your own Protection.

My Brother’s Keeper by Alexis Johnson

I put my car in park, yanked the key from the ignition, and screamed. I’m pretty sure if anybody had happened to be driving on this little side street under the bridge in the outskirts of Jersey, they might have called the police and have me admitted at the sight of me. Tears streamed down my face as I hit the steering wheel until my palms turned red and ached from the repeated trauma. I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. My carefully cut Chinese bang was all askew, my cheeks were wet, my eyes red and puffy, and my nose was running. I unconsciously wiped the snot from my nose on the sleeve of my yellow cardigan. I tried to concentrate on the calming down enough. I breathed in the scent of my febreeze installation and pretty soon my head had cleared enough for me to concentrate on driving and finding somewhere to sleep for the night. I mechanically started my car up again, pulled off the shoulder of the road and drove until the lights of this little ma and pop inn hailed me over. I pulled into the parking lot and decided to adjust my appearance a little so I wouldn’t worry whoever I ran into. There was a middle aged woman sitting behind the desk in this small yet very cleverly decorated lobby. She smiled up at me with warmth, and curiosity

barely hidden in her eyes. “Good evening, welcome to the Pillow Haven Inn, my name is Ann, how my I help you?” she asked with a service standard smile. I tried to keep my voice from shaking as I spoke. “I would like one room for one night, please.” I manage. She nods her head and produces a little black log book from under the counter. I scribbled in my name and other required information than I passed her my debt card to pay. She handed me a key from one of the pegs behind her and motioned for me to follow her. “Here we are sweet heart. Please, enjoy your night.” She says, with her standard smile and wondering eyes. I smiled weakly and went in the room. The room was old fashioned but pleasant, the color scheme was all warm pinks, off whites and brown. I sighed into the darkness, the weight of the day catching up to me. I pulled out the bundle of letters and other random documents I’d been carrying around from my pocket and tossed it in the armchair while I tossed myself on the small, comfortable bed. I listened to the sounds of the night before I realized that I was crying. It has been nearly two months since I was very luckily accepted into Stanford University with a very lucky scholarship; a month and a half since my grandmother fell ill and passed away, and about the same amount of time since I found out that I had an older brother and skipped out on opening house to find him. I rolled over on my side, and tucked the blankets in around me. I watched the moon creep out over the clouds and fell asleep. I fell asleep remembering back to my childhood that led up to this whole mess. I grew up with both of my parents as an only child, but it wasn’t that bad. Both my parents worked in the medical field. My father worked as an oncologist and my mother as a pediatric nurse. With both of their incomes, I was rarely in need or in want of anything. I didn’t grow up a spoiled brat though, I was always on my best behavior and that was that. Life was pleasant. When I turned about ten, my father was diagnosed and died from the very same disease he treated his patients for. After that, the relationship between my mother and I became platonic and rigid. It started with her trying to take over my life; decide every aspect of it from what I wore to who I hung out with. I rebelled against her at first but in the end I decided it was just easier to let her have her own way. Life was manageable like that. Mom groomed me to be her perfect child and each day I saw myself becoming more and more like her. I was prepared to enter Stanford months before I actually applied, and enter the medical field like mom wanted up until Grandma Estelle, mom’s mother, grew ill and had to come live with us. Mom had to drop some hours at the hospital and I had to drop a few extracurricular activities, but I honestly didn’t mind. Grandma was the one who I ran to while mom was controlling my life. And even during her sickness I would sometimes catch a glimpse of the woman she was before she got sick, and I enjoyed those few moments. While she was ill, grandma had taken to talking gibberish. Sometimes she would get lost in old memories and relieve old conversations. I would listen to her musings patiently until she came back to reality. Other times

grandma would become very melancholy and she would mention how she’s saddened by the greedy heart my mother had, how much she loved my father for living and dying an honest man and how she hopes I would find out the truth. This I never understood. I would just nod my head and wait like always. On the day she died, grandma said the weirdest thing since she’s been sick. I was sitting in a recliner next to her bed and she was adamant. We were just laughing and joking about my lasted crush at school when she faded out and stared out of the window. I silently watched as she went back through her memories for what I hadn’t known was the last time. She started to speak. “The box,” she said, eyes filled with determination. I held her hand, deciding that this conversation could be interesting even if it was in the past. “The box, Lynn tried to take it from me, Rose. There’s a box, in under the cupboard boards in my house. When they go to take my belongings out of my house, find it before Lynn does. Find the box, find Adonis.” She’d said. I patted her hand and sighed to myself. ‘This is it; she’s lost it all…’ I thought. But I engaged anyway. “Who’s Adonis Grandma?” I asked, hoping she’d come out of her episode soon. Her breathing turned even and she turned away from me. I thought she had fallen asleep so I got up to leave. Just as I was about to cross the threshold of her room, she started to speak again in a whisper that I surprisingly caught. “Find the box, find your Adonis, find your brother, Adonis.” I turned around sharply, but she had really fallen asleep after that. She passed away that night in her sleep. The next few days were hectic with preparations for her funeral; oddly enough mom seemed just a tad bit more relaxed now that grandma was gone. I was still very confused. As far as I knew, I was an only child, and now to have heard that I might actually have an older brother? I would randomly mention that name around mom, and her usually collected façade would falter ever so slightly. I decided that my life wasn’t so perfect after all. Maybe my mom really was holding secrets back from me that my dad took to the grave and my grandma protected until she got sick. The day after Grandma’s funeral, mom and I were at her house collecting the things mom decided she could keep or sell. Just as I was passing the kitchen, I remembered what grandma had said about a box. I looked around for mom and went in the kitchen when I heard her moving around upstairs. I rummaged around every cupboard and tapped each bottom, listening for a hollow space. I was just about to give up; thinking grandma had really gone crazy when a hidden hinge in the cupboard by the stove caught my eye, and I opened it with some effort and low and behold was a box. I looked around for mom again and took out its contents, not even looking to see what they were. I disposed of the box and left the kitchen just as mom called my name. I got the chance to look at everything later on that night when I was sure mom went to sleep. The bundle was full of bank statements, wills from old family members, insurance papers, letters, and pictures. I pushed every-

thing around the bed until I saw an oddly familiar picture of a little boy. I thought I was my dad. I read the words written on the back. ‘Adonis James Adleson, age 16” I was confused, but I continued looking through the pile. I settled on some letters between grandma and my dad talking about this Adonis. Then I found letters from Adonis to grandma and dad. I was totally blank. My head was swimming. The only thing that I was sure of was that I had an older brother whom I’ve never met. I was just about to quit for the night so I could clear my head when I saw a letter in the pile addressed to me on my 18th birthday a few months ago. My breath caught in my chest as I opened and read it.

Rose, Happy Birthday Little Sis! Grandma sent me a picture of you at your soccer game, and I’m really glad that you grew into your huge head! I used to think that you didn’t want to talk to me, the reason why you never answered any of my letters, but grandma tells me Lynn’s been intercepting them and hiding them. Grandma says she’ll make sure you get this one. I’m pretty sure you guys have moved again. Lynn really doesn’t want you to know me or about her but I can’t really explain in this letter in case you don’t get it. I just want you to do one thing. Don’t believe a thing your mom says. She’s been lying to you your whole life. I know dad would have wanted you to know the truth, but she had him by the throat. If I can find some way to you, or you to me, I’ll explain everything. Until then, be careful. I’ll write again soon, I love you already. As always, Adonis I remember rereading that letter several times before I broke down in a nervous fit. I regained my composure and read through the rest. Some of them were torn and crumpled up but I learned that I really did have an older brother; he would be about 23 now. I remember finding a much more recent picture of him. Apparently he was a corrpret journalist who earned a lot of money researching successful businesses; he was standing in front of a glass wall, holding a prestigious looking award in a dark grey suit wearing a blue tie. He looked just like my father; upon closure inspection, I saw a little mom too. He had grown out his curly hair and wore it gelled back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, his gray brown eyes were hidden behind glasses and his smile bright. Pain from missing my dad put my into another fit and I remembered dreaming about growing up with an older brother. I think the night I discovered the letter written to me was what spurred my decision to go looking for Adonis. I was supposed to be going to an additional summer program at Stanford but I skipped out on it to find my brother. I followed leads I had on his whereabouts all the way up here in New Jer-

sey where I lost clues. The company he worked for was hard to find but when I found them; they told me that he had been out of contact with them for about a month and a half. I was just about to quit on the whole thing. I woke up the next day, groggy and disgruntled. I looked around the dim room and decided I could get a little more sleep before I decided to pack up and go back home. I had just closed my eyes when my phone started to go off. I got a message. It took some serious effort to maneuver my phone from my fitted jeans pocket but when I finally did get to it, I was wide awake. Who could it be at 8:33 am?! I thought grumpily. I looked to see and shot bolt upright in the bed. It was from one of the editors of the company Adonis worked at.

“It’s Alisha Noble from BCJ. I have some information that could help you find him. Meet me at the Sun Dial diner in midtown Brooklyn at about 11.”

My mind was racing. I didn’t stop to think. I jumped out of the bed, grabbed the bundle that I had thrown in the chair and rushed out of the room and out of the inn. I didn’t even stop to thank the nice lady at the desk who watched me go with open confusion and curiosity. My rational thought hadn’t caught up to me until I had crossed over into New York City and was merging with the traffic. I began to get nervous. What if this was just another dead end? What if I never find him and miss out on a once in a lifetime opportunity? I almost crashed my black Mazada 3 into a red Nissan. The driver honked at me and fired a list of expletives out of the window in true northern fashion. I shook my head and tightened my grip on the wheel. I decided that I came too far to not see this to the end. I found the Sun Dial in no time. I hurried up to park my car and made way inside. The smell of breakfast and cigarette smoke hit me right in the face as soon as I opened the door. I retched with unappeased hunger. I bit back the bile and appraised the room until I saw the familiar bouncy, strawberry blonde curls of Ms. Noble facing away from me in a window booth to my left. I walked over to her, composing myself with each step. “Ms. Noble?” I say, plastering a small smile of my face, she looked up at me with surprise and then worry. “Rosario…? Are you alright?” she asks as I weasel myself into the seat across from her. I try to seem bright and cheery. “I- I’m fine.” I say, voice wavering slightly. She shook her head and adjusted the sleeves of her long sleeved orange scoop neck. “Sweetie, know you’ve been run ragged by this entire situation but neglecting yourself will not help find Adonis.” She says, digging into her large black purse. She produced a little travel size care pack. She pointed to the bathroom and winked at me with a grin. I nodded my head and got up to attend to the atrocity that was my appearance. Seeing myself in the mirror, I was glad that Adonis’s girlfriend was so nice. My carefully cut Chinese bang was all askew, my eyes were red and puffy, clothes all wrinkled and I was pretty sure my breath was disgusting. I freshened up with the things in the pack and when I was finally presentable I walked back out there. Alisha was sipping on her coffee and nodded towards the one she or-

dered for me. “Their breakfast is pretty delicious, order some and I’ll pay.” She said, passing me a menu. My stomach growled loudly before I could object so I just went ahead and ordered a breakfast sampler. After the waiter had brought our breakfast and we had got through most of it, she wiped her mouth and folded her hands on her knee, giving me a passive expression with her emerald green eyes. I just stared back, wide eyed, and expectant. “Now before we begin, I just want you to know that I really have been working very hard to find some answers. Adonis has never been one to just disappear without leaving some sort of notice. And apparently he’s moved. And if that isn’t odd enough, he cleaned out his bank account.” Alisha says, placing a manila folder of papers in front of me. The folder was full of bank statements and invoices and I could see the account that he cleaned out. There was another account that had been making a lot of purchases and whatnot under a security alias we came up with in one upscale area in Manhattan. I looked up at her, wondering how she got a hold of this. She cocked her head to the side and answered my unasked question. “When we started dating, we made an account together. He decided should anything happen to him I should still be taken care of. I thought he was crazy, cute, but crazy so I let him have his way. A few days ago, the bank calls and tells me that a lot of money was put into this account and that it was concentrated and active in this one area.” I stared at the area address. “So… he’s here?” I say, heart pounding. She nodded her head. “I highly doubt he would give access to that account to anyone else. Besides, if he’s been there he’s most likely still there. He wouldn’t just blow money in one of the most expensive areas in New York for leisure. And he’s using the security name. He’s hiding.” She says, sipping her coffee. I nod blankly. ‘This is it… I found him.’ I think. I put the papers to the side and we talked a little more while we finished our food. I learned that Adonis and Alisha had had a steady relationship for about ten months now. “We had a little fight three days before he disappeared.” She furrowed her brow it was obvious she had her own reasons for finding him. I was grateful for the help all the same. After we ate, she walked me to my car and hugged me. “If you find him, have him call me or something. I miss him.” She says with a weak smile. She pats my shoulder and watches me drive off. Getting to Manhattan was probably the hardest part of the day. It was just after 2 when I finally found the area where I would supposedly find my big brother. I drive around the square that Alisha has marked on the map. I look around for anything that fits the description of his car that she gave me. I got hungry again at about 3:30 and decided to stop at the most inexpensive looking café overlooking this very suave apartment building. I order a mocha latte and a sesame bagel with strawberry cream cheese just as the despair came wafting over me. I bit it back. There was seriously no turning back now.

I had been people watching for about twenty minutes when a familiar gait caught my eye out of the picture window. ‘Daddy?! No wait…. He’s dead…. Then…’ I got up quickly, paying for my food and running at a dead sprint out onto the sidewalk for a better walk. The profile fit. I watched the guy walk to his car, his car! It matched! I just stood there and watched him get into his car and crank it up. I hurried to my car and followed him at a safe difference lest I’ve actually gone mad and had been hallucinating the whole time. I followed him into the parking lot of an apartment complex and parked about six cars down. I watched him in my rearview. I got out and creeped around the stairs just as he closed the door to his apartment. I just stared up at it. Not sure what I was doing anymore. The next thing I knew was I was knocking on the door. I snapped back from my daze and realized I was crying. I was feeling sick too. ‘What am I doing?!’ I think to myself. I waited at the door for about three minutes. I had just turned around when I heard the lock tumblers engage from the other side. I turned to face a very confused Adonis James Adleson. I sniffled at him, trying to smile through tremors. He looked confused then surprised. “Adonis!” I say, launching myself into his chest. He hesitated slightly before nearly crushing me in a bear hug. “Rose.” He breathes into my hair. I walked into my classroom and was instantly pushed down. My book bag fell to the floor with a loud thud. My belongings fell out and rolled on the floor. After being in complete shock I put my things back in my bag,

Witch Wars

by Myesha Carter stood up, looked to see who it was and saw that it was Megan Wright. Megan Wright was always mean, but this time I didn’t understand why. “Hey witch!” I looked at her confused and dazed. “What did you just call me” I asked. She began to laugh and so did the rest of my classmates. I was so confused. Was there something they knew that I didn’t? “How does it feel to be such a freak?” Someone asked abruptly. “I’m not a freak. Now leave me alone!” “What will you do? Turn us into frogs,” someone else asked. I was speechless. Why was everyone calling me a freak, a witch? Everyone began to shove me back and forth, laughing louder than before. Tears started to fall out of my eyes when the teacher finally came in the room. “Leave me alone!” Suddenly the light bulbs burst and the glass shattered everywhere. The desks began to shake, chairs flipped over, windows shattered. Everyone instantly backed away from me. What was happening? “What is going on here?!” Everything finally stopped but before I could compose myself, someone tripped me.

“Who did that?” Everyone stayed silent, but I could feel all eyes and fingers pointed at me. I stayed on the ground, letting the tears fall. She helped me up and told me to go to the office so we could call my parents to pick me up. As I walked to the principal’s office, I kept thinking one thing… first grade sucks! ****************************** (11 Years Later) ********************************* I truly know only a few things about myself. I know that I am seventeen years old and that I am different. I’ve lived my entire life knowing that I was different. Not only from the bullies at school when I was younger, but from my parents who told me before they disappeared. My parents disappeared when I was ten years old and said that they would return soon. It’s been seven years since then and I’ve given up believing they would come back. Before their disappearance I remember very little of my life prior. Sometimes I get flashbacks of my life, but nothing of any importance. My most vivid memory is entering the adoption agency that I stay in now. As I thought back to that scary time, I began rubbing my black cat, Midnight’s, silky fur. I looked out of my small concealed window with a view of the building’s next door brick wall. Suddenly, the headmistress came in. “Some people are here to see you.” I slowly get up, telling Midnight to stay there for me. We walked through the narrow, dimly-lit halls. The only sounds to be heard were the click-clacking of the headmistress’ heels and the steady beating of my heart. We stopped in front of the visiting area. It had a white door that opened up to an all-white room with brown furniture and outdated magazines on the wooden coffee table. I’ve only been in that room once in my life. “Behave,” she said. I only shrugged my shoulders. She gave me a glare that I gave another shrug to. I slowly opened the doors. When I saw the people in front me, I stood completely still. Shock ran across my face. All I could think was that I must be dreaming, because what I saw couldn’t possibly be real. Tears began to swell up in my throat, but I tried to keep my composure. “What are you two doing here?” “We are here to take you home,” she said with a smile. A smile that became so foreign to me after all these years. The man standing beside her reached for me, but I subconsciously stepped back. “Excuse me, but you aren’t allowed to touch the children,” headmistress explained. We all turned as if realizing she was here. “It’s okay. I know them well enough.” “How,” she asked, slightly unconvinced. “They’re my parents.” The headmistress looked at us in shock. Her pale white face grew even paler. Since her turning-gray bun was so tight that it pulled her face back, she reminded me of the famous painting The Scream. Suddenly, as if all her senses came back she started rambling about if they wanted to take me they would have to fill out paperwork. She began to run from the visiting room and back. She continuously came back with large amounts of paperwork. She came back so fast from the other room that she

tripped and the papers flew in the air. With an annoyed expression Mom said, “Stop!” Everything froze. The headmistress, the papers, everything was frozen….but us. I freaked out; as any normal human being would. “What is happening?!” I was starting to hyperventilate so dad reached out for me. This time I let him, too freaked to react. “If you come with us, we will explain everything,” he said. That information made me stop. Would they really explain everything? Well they were my parents; I could at least give them the doubt by believing them. I took a deep breath. “Alright let me pack.” “Its fine I got it,” Mom said. She snapped her fingers and everything was packed and in my hands in seconds. Midnight came walking in and confusion was clear on my face. “Black cats are the spirit protectors of witches. They are immune to any form of magic and are very loyal to witches. That’s why we gave you that cat before we left,” Dad said. “Witches,” I asked and mom laughed. “Well your father and I aren’t magicians, honey.” I tried to wrap it all around my head. My parents are witches? Am I a witch? “We’ll explain everything once we leave and are safe. For now you just have to trust what we say is true and come with us.” I nodded my head. Mom and Dad smiled and the world was unfrozen. The headmistress came out of her daze and the papers fell to the floor. I have never seen her discomposed before. Mom, with a focused look looked into her eyes. Dad helped her up and she quickly thanked him, embarrassed that she made a fool of herself in front of a good looking man like my father. “My husband and I worked out all the paperwork and left as soon as possible.” The headmistresses’ eyes were fogged and dazed. She nodded her head, completely following what mom was saying. “What are you doing to her?” Mom turned to me. “I am compelling her to make this ordeal less messy. You will learn more about that and how to do it in due time, but for now let’s go.” I began to walk to the front door, but as I nearly made it we were no longer at the adoption agency. We were in the middle of the desert. Civilization was nowhere to be seen. The only sign of life were my parents, me and Midnight. “Where are we and how’d we get here?” “We are on our way to a safe house for people of our kind and we got here by teleporting.” “People of our kind? Teleporting….There is no such thing!” “For witches it is.” “Okay can someone explain to me what the hell is going on? Now please!” “Watch your mouth young lady!” Mom and dad exclaimed in unison. All I could do was huff. They were not taking my emotions seriously and it was annoying.

“I think we should tell her now honey,” mom said. “We haven’t reached the safe house yet, we don’t have time for it right now.” “She deserves to know now.” Mom looked at me. “You, your father and I are witches. There are really bad people looking to wipe out all of the witches in the world. We fear the dangers of our lives and may have to go to war with these humans. We can’t keep running and I refuse to let the witch trials happen all over again! But we need every able witch to work together to protect ourselves and that includes you.” I looked at my parents in complete shock. They were serious, which means people were really out to kill us. Even though mom said all of that I couldn’t believe it. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve lived with ‘humans’ my whole life. The only problem I have had with them was in the first grade, but they were ignorant kids then. They can’t possibly be bad.” “I’m sorry honey, but for years we have been running from those murderers for years. We wiped your memory so you could stay safe until you were old enough to fight. You knew that before we took your memory away. I’m sure you don’t even remember your name.” I looked at them with complete shock. Was it true that they took my memory? Was it even possible? “No way,” I said. Dad looked at me, completely annoyed and worried. “We don’t have time for this.” “Sorry honey this is going to hurt.” She pulled out a box, opened it up and threw the powdery contents on my head. And that’s when it hit me. The pain shot through my head as all of my memories came back. The pain was so horrible that I began to scream. When it was finally over I realized the truth. My name is Susanna North, I am seventeen years old, I am a witch, and I was born, training to destroy the murderers of my people. And now the true story begins…. A Lesson Learned by Ayanna Kelly Walking into her house, with the smell of bud light and weed filling the air as the ceiling fan rotates counter clock wise. Ashes lie on the floor while the TV shows a man pulling a trigger. POAW goes the gun, when she notices her father lying on their old dusty couch, as a cigarette hangs out his mouth. Allowing puffs of smoke to pollute the air…………………………. one deep breath at a time. Sage knew her day couldn’t get any worse. Her mom Vanity then came walking out of the kitchen with an old rag in her hand and veins popping out of her forehead and neck. Sage could see that she’d had a hard day at work, and her good for nothing father was no help. Sage then asked, “How was your day mom?” Vanity replied,” How does it look?” The tone in her voice said it all. She knew her mom had found out about her and Damon getting caught at school and was preparing herself for the lecture. “So why were you and Da-

mon found in the bathroom having sex?” Vanity waited on her answer. “You said we can’t have it here, and I’m still determined to get pregnant,” said Sage. Vanity was appalled by her daughters answer. “Why? Why would you want to ruin your life at this age by having a child, you know those little parties and things you like to go to, the second you get pregnant it will be no more of that, cause I’ll be dammed if I take care of your baby.” Sage knew her mother was hurt and bothered by her decision to get pregnant, but her mind was made up and she’d do whatever it takes to have a child. Their argument was soon interrupted by Sage’s father Phillip awakening. His eyes opened like red rays of pure hatred and annoyance. Sage always thought to herself, if he doesn’t like it here, why stay here and take up space. But she never asked her father. She figured since he didn’t care, why should she. Smoke puffs crash unto the ground as his cigarette fell out of his during his attempt to sit up straight. Phillip didn’t hear most of the conversation since he was sleep, but was able to chime in at the last minute. “Sage,” he said, “Don’t be bringing no unwanted and irrelevant babies in my house.” Sage ignored the comment because in her mind her dad was basically an unwanted and irrelevant baby in a grown mans body. Once he finished adding his two cents he slowly drifted off back to sleep, while mumbling incomplete sentences. Once he was completely sleep Sage’s attention returned to her mom, who was in a deep thought. “So,” said Vanity, “Who is Damon? Because last week it was Micheal and two weeks before that it was Daniel.” Sage was surprised that her mom actually remembered all the dudes that she’d slept with during the past month. “Damon is the new guy at my school, he didn’t mind having sex and neither did I so we did it in the bathroom.” Vanity wondered why Sage was so willing to have sex, knowing that her body was a temple. She’d known that Sage had wanted a baby; she’d hoped it was a phase, but it clearly wasn’t. Sage’s decisions baffled her. Sage was beautiful, long curly hair that flowed past her butt, blue eyes, but sometimes turned green and her skin color was a notch away from being white. She had an hour glass shape and could get any guy she wanted, so where this random desire to have a child came from stayed on her mind. Saturday morning Sage wakes up with extreme stomach pains and nausea. Even though she hopes the symptoms mean she’s pregnant, the pain of it all takes away from her joy. “Mom!” sage yells as she leans over the toilet trying to hold back her vomit. “Yes Sage?” Vanity says as she walks into the bathroom. Her eyes widen. “Sage, are you okay?” She rushes by Sage’s side, holding her hair, allowing Sage to throw up. Green, clear, and yellow watery chunks of her lunch from this week slide down the side of the toilet seat, rapidly entering the bowl. Once she was done Vanity took Sage to the emergency room. At the emergency room, the doctor has Sage take a pregnancy test. Once the test is finished minutes feel like hours as they wait for the results. Vanity prays the results come back negative and that she has the flu, but Sage on the other hand sat there with a huge grin on her face. The doctor comes back into the room and tells them that the results are positive. Sage is overwhelmed with joy and asks how far along she is. The doctor says she is 2 months pregnant and if she would like abortion is an option, but af-

ter that month it’s to late, the baby is to far developed. Abortion is the last thing on her mind. Finding the baby’s father was the main goal. She got in contact with all of the dudes she’d slept with and had them take a DNA test. The father couldn’t be Damon, because they’d just had sex two days ago. Micheal came back negative and two other guys did also. Then Daniel’s results came back and HE WAS THE FATHER. Sage drops out of school once she is about 7 months pregnant. 2 months go by and she’s 9 months pregnant, her stomach is huge, mood swings are now known as the “usual” and hot flashes seem to never end. Sage and her mom were shopping around in Macy’s for the baby’s arrival, when her water breaks. Sage wasn’t due until 4 weeks but her baby was determined to come today. They rush to the car and drive to the nearest hospital which is DeKalb Medical. She immediately taken to a room and the delivery process begins. The doctors notice that her baby is breached. Since her baby is not vertically face toward the vaginal area. A c section is required to deliver the baby. The doctors start the c sectioning process when Sage’s blood pressure and oxygen levels become really low. She goes into cardiac arrest and dies moments later. The baby is cut out safely and is ok. Since Sage is dead Daniel is left up to name him. His name is Kennedy; he’s 6 pounds 2 ounces. Light skin, hazel eyes, curly blonde hair. He looks just like his mother. Who now will never be able to love and enjoy the child she worked so hard to have and wanted so much. Never will she look into his needing eyes for love and affection. Daniel is left to raise a child he never agreed to have by himself but will love and protect him with his life. He can never tell his son how in love he and Sage where because they weren’t. The lesson that is learned is don’t rush what is meant to be, in due time it will all happen, you’ll see.

A Costly Dilemma by Nasiir Edwards

“Why do you defy me?” I said. The time was old as a wise monk, around 1800. The war of the Sabbath just ended the previous year. It is now 1265 B.C here in Rome. Our government is now on the road to recovering from the war that last 30 years and broke down our government inside and out. Once a democracy, a revolution changed everything because the rich were only getting richer, and the poor only becoming poorer. I was speaking to my servant, Muhammad. Muhammad was of the lowest ranking in the kingdom; however, we often displayed good work. I assumed his work was of such caliber because he was a descendent of the family that worked for my ancestor’s field. My family was of the finest in Egypt. Much of my family had been blessed with fertile soil. In times of need, we often sold our produce to those who needed, in turn, my family became very wealthy and the most high power. “You only became kind because your twin brother passed away!” Muhammad responded The fury that passed through my eyes set the whole room ablaze.

“Don’t you ever mention that!” I am tired of it. The next time you speak a peep, you will be stoned” I responded. The night grew cold. The once live walls, full of conversation, seemed to finally sleep. The once flamboyant birds that sang great melodies above the palace seemed to die for rest. The white tile floors that once grew warm with live, now seemed to steam with coldness as the night grew. My heart was not saddened at all because my servant had been warned not to mention it again. When I was 10 years of age, my parents warned me my future bore staleness. Many mornings my mother would wake me up by saying “Wake your ass up, you disgrace.” My parents told me I would end up being a carpenter, much like my 40 year old relative who became addicted to LSD. Also, carpenters are not valued high in today’s society. I wanted to be a king; however, my twin brother was more fit then me. He also displayed better leadership. As a family, we lived in a big hut on the outskirts of town. People often came to admire our house, especially the front door that had been constructed by a Peruvian carpenter. It was our most prized possessions with its indented door groves. As they approached the lawn, a green hedge about 6 feet high stood beside them. Almost a path to the front door, the hedges lined the sides of the walk way. I often found myself alone in my room contemplating people’s actions. Why do people do certain things? Why do they act a certain way? What makes them do the things they do? Most of my thoughts were cloudy during the day, however, at night, they were more vivid. Often I would sit up until 300 o’clock before I would drift off to sleep in an erect position, waiting on more answers to come to me. My parents looked over me for the most part, focusing on my brother and his accomplishments. Though I had my doubts, I knew my purpose was something special. On my 10th birthday, I visited a local oracle, an Egyptian foreigner who made her living reading natives futures. She was a very tall, thin woman. She was of African descent, with a strong east African accident. She was very frail and her veins seemed to sit on top of her skin. She was very unique with an orange gem in the center of her forehead. As I walked into her shrine, I noticed many different chandeliers. Some had diamonds and jewelry, others had wood and beads. As I introduced myself, she instructed me not to say another word. “I am Kela. I am your now, your then, and your future. I have to make you stop talking; I had to mute cha. You think a lot, I can tell. You don’t think I knew ya? I’ve been knew ya. You’re in for some good, then bad will recruit cha. That gold crown will turn blue, they will scoop ya. Be ready for they will do ya. That gold crown will turn blue, they will scoop ya.” Kela said. Shortly afterwards, she backed slowly away into a dark abyss. My mind, as always, started turning again that night. What did she mean by “do ya?” Kill me? What good will I run into? Why was she end rhyming? Maybe she tells everyone that same story. It is so immediately generic; it has to be not time for my life.

20 years sense that day brings me to the present, a life a rule in a palace left by my forefathers. I am not sure if today in time is that good part or not, but I know that bad is also near because the oracle spoke it. “Hunny? Why do you always call the guards to the castle?” My wife asked. “I believe my servant is plotting an attack against me. I believe he is going to spike my drink, or crush my head when I least expect it” I responded. “I know he defies you often, however, he will not do you any harm. He cannot step on an ant; it is forbidden!” Mary explained back Muhammad was not only a defiant servant. He had a background of being sneaky and manipulative. It was known around the palace. In many cases, he would trick other guards to let him into forbidden places. For this, he was punished under my rule. “I do not care! I don’t trust the guy. Moreover, the oracle told me about 20 years ago that my crown will turn blue and ‘they’ will ‘scoop’ me” The next morning, a big uprising occurred near the palace gates towards the logged village. Many guards stood outside the palace in rows of 20. These rows where 200 guards in column, all facing attention as if marching for war. Over 20,000 where in attendance, however, at times, one could hear a pen drop. Many guards whisper to each other of the rumors. The word had matriculated that I was cutting everyone who worked for me pay about %65. The guards were outraged, standing in protest. “Why would you cut our pay? We protect you, beloved.” many mumbled on one accord. Along with that, it was known that I reported that everyone who had a child will no longer have health care provided because they were over abundant, causing a shortage of money for the castle. Meanwhile, Muhammad was in the back of the crowd. “I have an idea. I’ll show him who he really is” he whispered to an upset guard. “Your highness! How high are you?” Muhammad shouted at me. Making everyone turn around, Muhammad continued “You have no reason to make these rules; moreover, you have no reason being king! If I had an ounce of energy in me, I would come up there and cut you down” “You immortal! You will be sorry you let that come out of your mouth. Come forth at once!” I exclaimed in quick, disguised manner. As he slowly walked toward me, I remembered the oracle and her words. As this may be the end of it all. As he drew closer, my heart started to race 200 beats a second. With him arms length away, he dropped down. As I reached for him, he jolted up with a blade in his hand, sliced my neck, and that was all she wrote.

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