N o n f i c t i o n
F i c t i o n
Vignette
Illustration
Editors’ Note
Wearealmostthere!Wearenearingtheendoftheschoolyearandweare soexcitedtobereleasingourlastissueoftheApricotJournalinthe20212022schoolyear.Asawhole,fromourstaffmembers,toourreliable authorswhoneverstopsubmitting,wehavesurpassedourgoalsthatwe hadsetfromthebeginningoftheschoolyear!Wehavereleasedatotalof fourissueswhichallhavetheirownpersonalities!
Thisissueisfilledwithavarietyofwritingstylesandpiecesthatweknow youwillenjoy!
Likethepreviousyear,wehaveincludedaStaffPortfolio.Wewantto highlighttheApricotJournal’sstaffinourlastissueastheyhavebeen determinedandfocusedtocultivateeveryissuethathasbeenreleased! Finally,despitethefactthattherewillbenomoreissuesthisyear, wewill continuetoacceptsubmissionsoverthesummerinpreparationforour nextissueinthefall.
A Walk
Ronnie Amoah, Gra
Sandstickstomysole
It’swarmbetweenmy dampandsoft
Assoftasababy'stou
Undermyfeet,thepil
Eachsteprevealsapr
Marksofmyactionsle
Linedup,theyshowt
It’scold
Wavesrushovermyfeet,betweenmytoes
Rumbustiouswaterspushandpull
Myfootprintsaredraggedintotheseascollection
Ikeepwalking
Shapingdampsandwithmyfeet
Anactionofmypast,andpresent,andfuture
Ikeepmakingmoreprints,Ikeepwalking
Memory Lane
Emily Trieu, Grade 12
‘IwishIwasolder’
‘IwishIwasyounger’
Thephrasewesaidwhenwewere
Youngerandnowolder
Walkingourfirststeps
Asifwewerewalkingonthemoon
Learningadditionandsubtraction
Whiningthatitwasthehardestthingtodo
Playinghopscotchwithourfriends
Howthecolorfulchalkwas
Woulddisappearoncemothernature
Pouredhertears
Withoutanyworries
Nowlookatus
Wewon’thaveourparents
Holdingourhands
Howeasierthe Pastreallywas
The Creater's Bound
Oliver Chase-Norris, Grade 10
Inspired by Subnautica
Asthelittlesubcrossedthecraterbound, Itlookedwithbrightlightsallthewaydown, Withnogroundtobefound, Andasthelittlesubwentonandon, Thepilotwishedforlandslonggone, Butthevoidwasempty, Orsothelittlesub’spilotthought, Butthendisasterstruck, Andthelittlesubwascaught, Bytheguardiansofthedeep.
The Altar
Oliver Chase-Norris, Grade 10 Inspired by The Forest
Whentheplanecrashed, Andtheman’sheadhadbeenbashed, Hereachedoutforhisson, Onlytofindhimtaken.
Crawlingoutfromthewreck, Hewasmetbytheharshsun, Thehightrees, Andmanyeffigies. Thenativesofthisland, Forminggreatandmightybands, Wouldfighteachothernotfordominance, Orevenprominence, Butforthefleshofthefallen.
Ashejourneyedthisdiseasedland, Hediscoveredthedeeply-buriedhand, Thathadmadealltheterror.
Deepinthecaves, Filledwithcreationsofsomeonedepraved, Withlimbsandmawsandclawsallover, Hefoundthealtar.
The Unbreakable Temple
Oliver Chase-Norris, Grade 10
Inspired by Terraria
Deepinthetreacherou j l
Theadventurersought Forthemassofgoldit
Ashewentdeeper, Dodgingthedarttraps
Thepoisonousfungalc
Andthesuperdeadlyb
Hefoundrichesfroms
Withamuletsthatshin
Andastafffromnature
Closetothetempleno
Beingabletosmellito
Hefoundthebulb. Adeeppickgloweman
Entrancinghim, WIthhimbeingtempte
Andcloser, Andcloser, Tillhetrippedandhiti
Thebeingthatemerge
Andlovedtogorge, Onhistastyflesh, Andhenevermadeitt
Punk Rock Philosophy
Lily
Chisholm, Grade 12
Althoughitishardtopinpointmyphilosophyat17yearsold,I’vealwaysresonatedwitha punkrocker’sphilosophy.Knownforitsdo-it-yourself,boldnature,MusicianPattiSmith summeditupbestbyexplaining,“Tome,punkrockisthefreedomtocreate,freedomtobe successful,freedomtonotbesuccessful,freedomtobewhoyouare.It’sfreedom.”WhenI firstfoundpunkmusic,IfeltasenseofempowermentIhadlackedforthemajorityofmylife.I foundavoiceandawilltoexpressmyownideas-eveniftheydeviatefromthenorm.Punk transformedfromagenreofmusictoapersonalphilosophy.Despitebeingthegritty,rough, DIYsubculturethatpunkisknowntobe,thetenetsofpunkrockblossomfromthe movementsofindividualism,orthewordsofPlato.Punkrecognizesthecomplexitiesoflife andtriestomakesenseofthemthroughnoise,words,andvisuals.Initsrawestform,punkis anunfilteredreactiontothehumanexperience.
Asvoluntarymisfitsofsociety,membersofthepunksubcultureseektostrikeabalance.Punk rockerswanttodeveloptheirownorganic,imperfectperspectiveoftheworldwhile attemptingtodrivethebeliefsofothers.Distortedguitar,controversiallyrics,andfast rhythmsbegfortheattentionofthegeneralpublic,yetourbeliefsareoftenmisconstrued. RichardHelloftheVoidoids,Television,andotherprominentrockactsexplainshisown severedrelationshipwiththeworldaroundhim:“Basically,Ihaveonefeeling…thedesireto getoutofhere.AndanyotherfeelingsIhavecomefromtryingtoanalyze,youknow,whyI wanttogoaway…it’snotgoingtoanyotherplaceoranyothersensation,oranythinglike that,it’sjusttogetoutof‘here.’”Hellviewstheworldinitstruecolors,andfinds discontentmentfunctioninginsuchconditions.HeresonateswiththefreedprisonerinPlato’s allegoryofthecave,whocannotbeartobeinthecaveoncehehasbeenshownthefull picture.Thefreedwantstospreadhisnewfoundknowledgetothosestillimprisonedandwill doallthatittakestoconvincethemofanotherwayoflife.Thechoicetoeitherstayinthe cave,acknowledgebothworlds,orembracetheoutsideworldishoweachindividualchooses toperceiveanddigestinformation.Althoughmanypeopleliketobelievethattheyareoutside ofthecave,Ithinkmanyarestillinit:ignoranceisbliss.Apunkwouldbethefirstprisoner outside.AttheheartofPlato’sallegory,itbegsthequestionofhowweuseoursensesand deductivereasoningtoconsumeandinterprettheworldaroundus.Punksseeanunfiltered, imperfectworld:insteadofacceptingtheconditionsaroundus,wechallengethem.Wetryto makesenseofitallthroughart.Wepushitintotheperceptionsofothers,andiftheychoose toignoreit,wecanatleastsaywetried.
Individualismisanothersharedtenet.WaltWhitman,inSongsofMyself,usesnuanced, figurativewritingtoapplauduniqueness.Hepassionatelycelebratesdifferences,reminding hisreaders,“DoIcontradictmyself?VerywellthenIcontradictmyself,(Iamlarge,Icontain multitudes)”.Whitmanbelievesinpersonalgrowthandchangeasnewinformationbecomes available,orasweexperiencemoreaspectsofourlives.Inmyownphilosophy,I’vefound peacewithmyidentitythroughgrowthandexperimentation.Asaconsequenceofmy liberation,I’vebecomethetargetofclose-mindedindividuals.Despitethis,I’veneverbeen botheredbyanyone’scomments,becausemyphilosophyfunctionedasashieldofresilience. Ilearnedtostandformyownideas,andbelieveinmyself.Individualismgoeshandandhand withapunkrocker'sphilosophy:passionateself-expression,anddefyingstereotypes.Punkis thefreedomforthesoultoexploreandexpress-orto“riseabove!”,asthe1981BlackFlag songbeckons.Indoingso,thepunkalsocontainsmultitudes.Myownidentityhaslentitself tomultitudes:IembracethedifferentaspectsofmyidentityasIgrowintoadulthood.Iamno longerafraidtostrayfromthepath,orpursuemyownideas.
Punkisnotjusthairdyeorpiercings:punkisanunapologetic,liberating,unconventional lifestyle.Punkistakingthesteeringwheeltoyourownlife.Punkismakingthebestofwhat you’regiven.Punkisliterally-orfiguratively-creatingextraordinaryresultswithunassuming edemo,oranoutstandingimpactonthepeople hy,I’mlivingmylifetothefullest.I’mfullyableto xperienceinawaythatwouldbedeemed m,whetheryoucanembracethemusicornot.
See Me
Megan Ashun, Grade 9
Lies
Georgia Ntow, Grade 10
Heputouthishand.
There'salwaysmystery,alwayssuspense
Thenamesoflostandfabulouscities
Theylookedasiftheymightsitthereforever Purechaos
Thevoice,thecommotion,werenothingatall Isthiswheretheworldbegan?
Forthefirsttimeinendlessyears, Hewasgladhehaddecidedtolive
HowdoIthankhim,payhimback?
Hemusthavetrompedthejoysoftheworld
Thatwastheonlyway…
Thiswasalie.
Andshebegantocry
Untitled
Tiffany Rose, Grade 12
Questionslinger-withthepurposetoperplex
Universemetamorphosing-concaveandconvex
Calculationsusedbyscientistsasamentalflex
Existentialandwondrouslikethedepthofopticflecs
Xenophobiacaptureseventhebestintoitshypnotichex
Tryingtodecodefor*figurative*lightyears-toocomplex?
ProofofthepastispresentinbonesofthemightyT-Rex
Havingneverseenfossilsintheflesh,ourmindssuddenlyderail-trainwrecks
Yettheknowledgeofhistory-ashardaswefighttoannex, Inrealityhaslittlecontext
Nohumanwasmeanttoconquerthiskaleidoscopicvertex.
El Escenario
Tiffany Rose, Grade 12
Losrasguñossonmuyviejosydefinendequenosotrosnostratamos. Muchoscuentosestántransmitidosdiciendolahistoriadeaquellosque vinieronantes.Décadasdelahistoriafueronolvidados,perolospodemos redescubrircuandounapersonaanalicelosrasguñosdelescenario.Si alguienestácaminandoenlospasillosdelauditorio,probablementenoverá losrasguños.Solamentecuandotuereslapersonaquecomparteel escenarioconlasobrasgrandesdelpasado,puedesquetodaslas imperfeccionesperfectassevolverántransparentes.
Translation:
The Stage
The scars are very old and define what we are. Many stories are passed down telling the history of those that came before us. Decades of history are forgotten, but we can rediscover them when a person analyzes the scars of the stage. If someone is walking in the aisles of the auditorium, they probably will not see the scars. It is only when you are the person that shares the stage with the great plays of the past, that all of its perfect imperfections become transparent.
There I Lay
Cindy Lam, Grade 12
ThereIlayawake,mybodystill
Although,mymindisrestless. Itfeelslikemymindisflooding, Suddenlyeverythingcomesatonce. Eyesstrainedandtired, Glossingover.
ThereIlayawake,tryingtostayafloat
Thecurrentscauseaneverendingpressure. Itfeelslikemymindisdrowning, Overflowingwithendlessthoughtsanddoubts Eyesfixatedontheripples, Glazingover.
ThereIlayunmoving,breathless
Thetidesslowlyreceding.
Itfeelslikemymindisdrifting, Thewaveshavestopped. Eyesdormantbut Icanfinallyheartheocean.
True Story!
Nathan Lam, Grade 10
Ilookatmyselfinthemirror.Ascarstretchesacrossmystomach.Itlooksaslongas acentipede,butitisprobablyonlyaslongasapaperclip.Justoutsidemyhouse,the sunragesonthecement.Itfeelsviolent,almostlikeit’slustingforbattle.Iwouldof coursecometopiecetogetherwhythesunwaslikethisanduncoveranexplanation forthescarthatstayedamysterymyentirelife.
Thequestionneverstuckinmyheadasitwasn’tsomethingIwasinterestedinat thetime.Iwouldalwaysacknowledgeit,butnevergavemyselfanswers.Onone warmspringday,withthesoftmellowsunbeamingwithgleethroughthewindows ofmyhome,IdecidedtoknowhowIgotascar.Itcouldhavebeenthesunatthe timeoritcouldhavebeenoutofpurecuriosity.Iwouldsayit’samixtureofboth. SeeinghoweveryoneinmyfamilyisolderthanmeIwenttothemforanswers.
“I’mnotsure”or“Ididn’tevenknowyouhadascar”becamecommonanswers amongstmyfamily.Althoughforoneofmybrotherstherewassomethingheknew. HowheknewIdidn’tcare,Iwasgladtogetananswer.
“Youdon’tremember,AllIrememberwasthatyoucamehomecryingonedaywith acutonyourstomach,didn’tlooklikeanythingelsehappenedandMapatchedyou rightup.”Heexplained.histoneseemedverylightconsideringtheseverityofthe situation.Afterall,myknowledgewasatstake.
Basedontheinformationgatheredandseeinghowbigthescaris,IcouldtellthatI gotaprettybigcut,butthequestionstillremainsofhow.Itwasadeepcut,not somethinganybodywouldgeteveryday.Thelengthwasirregulartoo,couldn’thave beenananimalclawbecausetherewouldbemorethan1scarifitgotthatdeepas wellasthelengthstillbeingirregular.Theremaybeachancehoweverthatan animalcausedit,butsomethingelsetreatedthewoundtolessenthelong-term impact.
Istaredoutsidemywindowintothewoodslostinthought.“IsthereanythingelseI canthinkof?”wasacommonquestionflowinglikeairparticlesaroundmybrain. Thesungotstronger,brighter,warmer,andappearedalmostbigger.Ithitme. Thesunwastheanswertomyquestion.Thisishoweverythingbrokedown:It startedasafavorforthebatcolonyinthesun.Theywereatwarwiththeunicorns roamingtheearth.“Theunicornsstandtothreatenthebatsandtheverysunitself. Webatsareprotectorsofthesunandallowalllifeonearthtoexist.”Themessenger batGeraldhadexplainedinasqueakyvoice.Iwouldsaythattheysaidsomething alongthelinesofthat.Withthatinmind,Isetoutonajourneytostoptheunicorns fromstoppingalllife.Itdidn’tmakesensetomeasunicornsalsoliveinthesun,butI didn’twanttoriskeverythingonafewquestions.
Ifoundtheunicornnumbers(theirbasealsoknownastheUN)andstartedtotear downtheirforces.Iwasstrongerineverywayandthatwasprobablywhythebats askedformyassistance.Ihaddefeatedtheunicornsbytearingdowntheirflagwith astick.Thesungrewviolentasitwatchedtheunicornmigrateindefeat. IwaitedpatientlytohearbackfromGerald.Uponinspectingtheunicornnumbers outofpurecuriosity.Theywerelivingapeacefullifesecludedfromtheworld.Nota hintofmalice.Noneoozingoutofthetower,noteveninthetiniestcornerofthe pigpen.IknewsomethingwaswrongwhenGeraldarrivedwithsoldiersto“locate theunicorns”.
“GreatjobNathan,thesunissafeandtheunicornswillnolongerthreatenEarth. Youmayreturntoyourhomeandwewillcompensateyouatalaterdate.”Gerald wasdifferent.Hiseyesweredarkandthesungrewthehottestwhentheyarrived.It wasn’ttheunicorns,itwasthebats.BeforeIcouldevenreactthebatsattackedme.I wasbetrayedbythepeoplewhogavemeorders.Inasavagebattleunderthebright sun,IcomeoutdeeplywoundedallovermybodywithonlyGeraldleftstanding. Geraldsatthereinfearofhislife.Hesatpatiently,scrunchedup,hopingIwouldn’t noticehim.
Iwalkeduptohim.Hesqueaked“pleasedon’thurtme”.Afterallthisheasksfor forgiveness.Idon’tknowwhatIwasthinkingatthetimesincethememorieswill alwaysbefuzzy.Itcouldhavebeenthewounds,oritcouldhavebeenmewithheavy dosesoftriumph.Eitherway,Itoldhimwithastrongemphasisoneveryword: “Don’t.Ever.Come.Back.”Hefledatlightningspeed.Icollapsedfrommywounds. “Wasittheend?”Luckilyforme,themolesoftheearthsurfacedatthistime.Idon’t knowhowbuttheyreducedallmywoundsintoonesmallspot.Iwouldsaythe woundswerereducedbyabout95%becausethiswoundwouldbecomemyscar thatstayswithmemyentirelife.
Isnapbackintoreality.“Didthisreallyhappen?”Itellmyself.Thevoiceofmy mothertellingmetoeatdinnerhasmeforgeteverythingthathappenedafter.It didn’tmatterthough.Knowingwasn’tgoingtomakemyscardisappear,butitdid helpmeremembertonevertrustabat.Italsooccurredtomethatthescarisn’t somethingthatIshouldworryover.Afterallthescarwasascaroftriumphafter beatingthebatempireofthesun.
Better than Kraft
Kloe Quiles, Grade 12
Icamehomefromschoolonanicecoldday,wonderingwhatI'm goingtoeat,becausewhenIleftthismorningtherewasnofoodinthe house.Iburstthroughthedoorat2:10pm,mystomachisgrumbling andaching.IwasshockedwhenIcamehomeandsawthatwehada bodegafulloffoodandthesamethingwiththefridge.UsuallyIcome homefromschoolandtakeoutbothofmydogs(Nene,yNena),while listeningtomusic.ThenIusuallyendupsittingonmyphone,playing gameswithmybrother,doinghomeworkandhelpingmybrotherout withhishomework.ButtodayIwasextremelyhungryandstarted snacking.
OnceIsawallthefoodinthebodegawehaveinourhouse,Istarted rummagingthroughitlookingforsomethinggoodtoeat.Rummaging asinlookingbecausemyparentskeepitprettyorganizedandclean.
AsI'mlookingarounddesperatelytryingtofindsomethingtoeat,I seethebestfood,andoneofmyfavoritesImightadd.VelveetaShells andCheese!InmyhousetheVelveetaisamealweeatofteninour house.It'squick,easytomake,tastesgreat,anditalsooneofmy brothersandIfavoritefoods.Soundskindofcornybutthismealis howmybrotherandIbond.Mybrotherbeing7,thelargeagegap makesitsomewhathardforustohavethesameinterests,thesame viewsandopinionsonthings.
IthendroppedeverythingI'mdoingandsprintedtothebigfreezerto seeifwehadHamburgermeat.Thenithitsme.Myparentsare workingtonightSMH.SothatmeansifmybrotherandIwanttoeat,I wouldhavetocook.Sadly.Whenithitsaround4:00pmIstart defrostingthemeat.Around5:00pmIstartchefingitup.Itakethe meatoutofthepackageandputitinasaucepanwiththeheaton medium.Istartseasoningitwithadobo,sazon,garlicpowder,onion powder,sofrito,garlicsalt,andallpurposeseasoning.Maybesome otherseasoningbutIcan'tremember.WhenthemeatisalmostdoneI startboilingthewatersothepastaandthemeatcouldbedone aroundthesametime.Iputwatertoboil,Idripalittleoilinthewater andsprinklesomesalt.OncetheshellsareallsoftIdrainthewater andstartmixingthecheese,shells,andmeatalltogether.ThenIserve mybrotherandIplatesandgrabforksandstartmunchinaway!
Thenightgetslaterandlater,theskygetsdarkeranddarker.Inmy housewhenweeatalotwegettiredandcallittheItis.Myparents don'tgethomeuntilaround11.Ithensuggestweheadtotheliving roomtowatchamovie,ourfavoritemoviebtw.ENCANTOOOO.Ienjoy spendingthistimewithmyfamily,especiallymybrother.Wesoon bothfallasleepandwakeupthenextmorningconfused.Wenever sleeponthecouch,especiallytogether.Mostofthetimewesleepin ourownroomsifwearen'tsleepingoutatoursistershouse.
The House on Mango Street
Works in this section are written with inspiration from The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros
Sarah Fosberry, Grade 10
Miaisonlyafewyearsolderthanme,butalreadyshehasbeencastout byherparents,forcedtoliveonthestreets.Shedoesnotcryanymore, butshetoldmewhenshefirstlivedonthestreetsshecriedallthetime. Nowshepraysinsteadofcrying-praysforabetterfutureforherselfand forsomeonetocomeandtakeheroffthestreets.
Miastillsaysthatherhomeiswithherparents.Shethinksthatoneday theywillopenthedoorforheragain.Andshewillbetheirdaughter again.Isawhergototheirdooronce.Watchedasherfatheranswered thedoor.Watchedhisfaceturnanangryshadeofredasheyelledather toleave.Watchedassheturnedfromthesadbluedoorofthehouse, hidingthetearsthatfilledhereyesandran,asfarfromthehouseasshe could.
Miadoesnotwanttoacceptthatsheisnoone'sdaughter.Thather parentswillnotopenthedoorforheragain.IlikeMia.Shehasasweet personalityandagreatsenseofhumor.Sheasksmetohelpher,but whatcanIdo?MyparentsbannedmefromseeingMia3monthsago.
What Sally Didn't Say
Anonymous Grade 10
Black & Blue... The Forgotten Sister
Nadia Frempong, Grade 10
Blackandblue?...She'sneverbeenbeatenlikethatbefore.Heneverbeatsherhard. Thedaythatsheleft…hesattherewithbloodshoteyes,cryingforherasifshehad died.Wouldhecrythesamewayforme?
Ididitoutoflove,Sally.I'msorry.I'msosorry,It'llneverhappenagain.Lies.they’reall lies;everysingleoneofherfatherssocalledpleads.Sheknewthisyet,shealwayscame backforme,wellatleastthat'swhatIkepttellingmyself.
BlackandblueSallyhasneverbeenbeatenlikethatbefore.Shewasalwaysthe favorite neverhavingtobethepunchingbag.Whenshefinallylefttoneverreturnshe hadalreadylostallthelifeinhereyes.Hersmoothwhitesuitcasetrailedafterher flowingrosereddressassheranofftoanewterror,clamingthatshehadfoundlove. Thatday,thehousebecamesoundlessandconsumedbydarkness.Themonstercried fordaysupondaysforgettingthathehadanotherdaughter.Iwasjustanother punchingbag.Afigureamongtheshadows.
“I'llcomebackforyou,“shesaid.
“He’llneverlayafingeronyouagain,”shesaid.
“I'll always be with you,”shesaid. Lies,they'realllies.
Afterthatdaythemonsterrefusedtoletanythinginthatroomchange.Everythingwas stillthesame.Fromtheoffwhitetotheoldwoodenwindownailedshutwithboardsof woodontop.Imagesofherdraggingherwhitesuitcaseoutandthenthrowinginall typesofgreenandbluecollaredclothing,notbotheringtosparemeaglance,remain trappedthere.
Sheleftamonsterforanother.Sheleftmeforamonster.Love?Doessheevenknow whatthatis?Howcanoneevenbesostupid?You'reexposedtoleaveforsomething betternotworse.
Somesaythatshe'slonelytrappedbydarknessbutshehasfriends,somany…friends. FriendslikeEsperanza.Itwouldbeniceifshewasmysister.ButinsteadI'mstuckwitha traitor,abackstabbingtwofacedsisterwholeftmewithNOREGARDS.Sheleftmewith amonster,abloodymonsterwholovestousepunchingbags…withoutasparing glance.
…Ilovemysister.
Staff Portfolio
Works by our very own staff members
United We Stand
Anya Geist, Grade 10
Whentherainbeatsdown
Adownpourthatrattlesthesidewalks
Oneofusopensanumbrella
Andwesheltertogether
Protectedagainstthestormaroundus
Whenhowlingwindstearatthedarknight
Andwearewalkingalonedownthestreet
Oneofusopensturnsontheirfrontlightandopenstheirdoor
Andinvitesusinside
Tobesafetogetherwhilethewindhammersatthewindows
Whenthesunscorchesourbacks
Blisteringraysoflightthatburnthroughourclothes
Oneofusistheretoguideustotheshade
Tohelpuslaydowninthatspotofcoolrelief
Andstaystronguntilthedayofheathaspassed
Anyadversity,anyhostility
Wemeettogether
Anyviolence,anyhatred
Iscombatedbyoneandall
Itdoesnotmattertheintendedvictim
Weallstepintohelp
Becauseweknowitistogether
Thatwecanweatherthetoughesttempeststhrowninourface
ForwearethePeople,yousee
Andunitedwestand
The Ligh
Denisa Iljas, Grade 10
Itisthelightintheroom
Wheneveryoneisgloom
Andwhenitisnoon,
Andwhenthesunsetsto
Itisthelightintheroom
Wheneverybodyisoutsid
Andwhennobodyhastim
Andwhenthedoorsarec
Sometimeslightisnoten
Fortherearedayswhere
Andtheonlylightleftisthesuncreepingthroughthewindow.
Thedayswhereyoucanseethedustrisingfromthepictureframes, Andthedayswherethedarkispitchblack.
Youstretchyoureyesopen, Andhope
Thatthelightcomesback.
---
Lost in Translation
Christine Lam, Grade 11
throughastringofuncertains remnantsofahomeawayfrom icanonlyoffer”bànộikhỏekh
ifindmyselfsearchin hesitantrendersofp oncesaidwithconfid arenowthatofthep
icanonlyimagine myancestorslookin similartohowiamn aspartsofmeflicker desperateforashiel
lostintranslation inquiries hopes desires leftinthethreshold wheremeandimee
morethanwords iwishtoknowabout thecrowdedstreets thesavorytasteofB thetendervoiceofmygreataunt
iyearnforoncewas ofmyyouth andthestoriesofthepeople whopeerbackatmeinthemirror
* are you doing well grandma? how is grandpa? did you plant any new flowers this spring? did you cook anything new this evening? i’m sorry for not calling home more often. please be in good health. i’m planning my next visit soon. i love you.
Waking Up
Benedict Morrow, Grade 10
Thelightsneaksin
Mykitchenwindows, Stealingmysenseoftime, Trickingmeinto
Hurryingtowardstheday
Thedooropens
Stepintothecold Itwillbewarmlater
Whentheday’snewlight Isnotblockedbythetrees
ButasIwalk
Shiveringalong
Idonotknowthatyet Itisalesson
Ilearnaneweachday
FornowIrail
Againstwhatever
Officialputmehere
Mentally,ofcourse
Nolightbywhichtotalk
Nowarmthbywhichtosee
Tooearly,Ithink,today Andeveryday
Acrostic Poem About Spring
Natalie
Boucher, Grade 10
In
Multitudesthedropletshittheground
Acrossthethecrackedpavementtheytrickle
Runningwatercascadesdownoldroads
Curbsbecomeever-eroding
Hopeisdandelionsinsidewalks
Amongthedeepwoodchildrenplay
Purposelytheytumblethroughfernandmud
Realitydisintegratesunderthickeningcanopies
Intothegray-bluehorizontheyvaporize
Laughteristhewindandwater
Moreoftenthesunlightclingstobranch
Amplearegreenleavesinitspresence
Yellowhuesfadetoorangeandattwilig
Out
Life is Like the Weather, it
is Unpredictable
Jenny Huynh, Grade 9
Inspired by Dalton Le
Whymustyoubesoempty?
Nothingbothersyouanymore
Youdon'tcareanymore
Youdon'tfeelanymore
Nothingsenjoyableanymore
Whymusteverythingbesobleh?
Staringupintothevastsky
You’re atpeace
You’re calm
Whyisitsocomplicated?
Thewhite,theblue,thelight
Drawsyouin sosimple
Yet itcaptivatesyouforhours
Whycan’titbethissimple?
Thenthegray,thethunder,thestorm
Youhide Youflee
Wonderingwhenthishorriblethingwillleave
Whyareyouhiding?
Shelteringyourselffromthisharshreality
You’rescaredofwhat'stocome
You’relostinthismeaninglesspitofsorrow
Whymusttheseburdenssuffocateme?
Aftertherain
Everythingiswashedout
Theskyisclearer
Everythingisclearernow
Yougettostartover
Butsomehowyou'rebacktobeingempty
Cope,Hall,andAndersallarrivedinrathershortorder.Theyseemedataloss forwords.Mercifully,thestaffretainedtheirprofessionalcomposure.Iturned towardsWadsworth,theheadofstaff.
“Lockallthedoors.Nobodyleavesuntilthemurdererisidentified.”Atthis, Horacesputtered.
“Lockusin?Bywhatauthority?Aren’tyouamaid?”
“I’mhisnephew’schild,andhisonlylivingrelative,sohe’smademethesole beneficiaryofhiswill.Butreally,Ibelievewehavemorepressingthingsto worryabout.BymyunderstandinganyofusbarmyselfandRosecouldhave committedthemurder.”
“Howhorrible,”saidParis.“PerhapsthisnoteIfoundcouldbeofhelp?”She handedmeascrapofpaperwrittenonwithlovelycursivescript.Itreadas such:
“Ibelieveyouareonewhohasavestedinterestinterminatingthelifeof GaltonArrietty.Thisisagoalofmineaswell,soifyoudesiretobringthis about,afterdinnertonight,enterthebasementandtripthebreaker.Therest shallbehandledbyme.Thatisall.”
“Thequickestwaytothebasementisthroughthekitchen.Caretoexplain, Cope?”saidRose.
“Well,I-”
“ENOUGH.Whosentthatletter?”AtRose’soutburst,Horacebeganbacking away.
“I…can’tsaythatIknow.Theletterwasanonymous.Perhapsitwasthe attemptedpoisoner?”Hegesturedtothegreenwineglass.“Theonlything thatwoulddosomethinglikethatisaHydraRosepetal,andthosearedeadly poison.”
“No,itwasn’t.TheglassthatwaspoisonedwasCope’s,andArriettydoesn’t drink.I’dguessitwasRose,probablybykeepingthepoisoninherring.”It wasRose’sturntosputter.
Running to the Edge of the World
Leire Cuberes
TheSunhugsmy
Thethuddingoff
Creatingarhythm
Likethemusicbu
ThatwantforaP
Aforgetfulmotiva
Allmyworries.
Runningintonoth
Andwithnodesti
Iallowmylegsto
AsIobservethee
Sothisiswhatit’s
Whatgoesonaro
WhileI’mabsorbe
Playinghideand
Itakeindeepbre
Twoin,twoout, Iwhispertomyse
Mysqueezingmu
Thewindpushing
Totheedgeofthe
Staff Members
Anya Geist
Denisa Iljas Editor-in-Chief
