N o n f i c t i o n
F i c t i o n Memoir
EDITORS' NOTE EDITORS' NOTE
Happy January! We are so happy to present to South High the Apricot Journal’s second issue of the year and our fifth issue ever. Unlike previous issues, this issue contains primarily poetry, beautifully crafted by many new authors (as well as some returning ones). These poems are evocative and powerful, ranging in a variety of subjects and styles, and we hope you enjoy exploring the ideas and worlds the authors have created. A few of these poems are “found poems, ” which are composed of lines of writing from another story, poem, or book that the author read in class. The creativity shown by our poets is incredible!
This next month, the Apricot Journal has many events going on! We will be hosting our third writing workshop of the year in February, and will at some point soon have our Volume I anthology available for purchase! Stay tuned for more updates.
In these winter months, we hope you enjoy delving into the writing of The Apricot Journal’s second issue of the year!
All the best,
The Editors-in-Chief, Anya Geist and Denisa Iljas
Tiffany Rose
12
Laura Coderre
Grade 10
Alixandra Coran
Grade 11
Imran Mbaziira
Grade 11 Lo Sconosciuto
Shannon Dennehy
Grade 9
Grade 9
Tevin Mbogo
Grade 9
Megan Ashun
Grade 9
Tiffany Rose Grade 12
Ideas
Crystal beauty, the Seine and the Thames
Perfect imperfection, like uncut gems
Words and ideas, yes they are ample
If you could pilgrimage through my synapses, take just a sample
You could see that thoughts alone hold flavor, like a lifesaver
Tides rushing in, ideas crushing the brain, we must save her But that is where you are wrong, her mind's blueprints are her savior
The taste of gold that she continues to savor.
Tiffany Rose
Grade 12
I Hate Poetry
The abhorrence I feel for poetry is so intense It couldn’t be more immense
Each stanza worse than the last Longing for this feeling to pass
Freeform is even worse because it is not confined to any rules and virtually nothing separates it from prose :(
Sometimes I don’t feel justified in my hate With a good poem, it may even abate
When I forget that which makes me mad Poetry may not seem as bad
Laura Coderre
Grade 10
Gravy Tears
in the foreign white walls slanted and tall
i curled up in the rose sheets clinging to memories of peace an empty, consuming pit came alive it ate at me, but i had only been there for five minutes, hours, days felt like years, oh this haze i had lost the steering wheel what do i do, how should i feel? dinner bell, eat the feast i did, as to not poke the beast gravy filled the plate, gravy filled my eyes as i ate tears of this brown he didn’t notice, watching as i drown i hate gravy, always have where am i? Where have I gone? echoes of my thoughts continue on I really always have hated gravy
Alixandra Coran
Grade 11
A Feather in Flowers
The way they stare
Just from afar
As I glare
They say you ’ re a wishing star
Lost in the dark
As it lights And still stuck
Emerging the kites
Flowers on their heads
Tears from my eyes
My skin into shreds Can’t you see I wish I were them
Imran Mbaziira
Grade 11
Lo Sconosciuto
RRRIIIINNNNNGGGGG!!!!
The bell rang everyday precisely at 2:15 in the afternoon to announce the ending of the school day. Lindsay walked out of her last period class on the 2nd floor. She was a tall girl, with a very athletic figure and had shiny brown hair and deep brown eyes. She closed her Windrion textbook and continued on. In the country Windrion, there are 6 states, which all surround the capital. Lo Sconosciuto, which is the name of the forest in between the capital and the states, has only 6 exit/entry points. Each of them leads into a different state which connects to the capital.
It is a written law that no citizens are allowed to cross or enter the forest. This is because no one has ever done it before and survived. Every decade or so, someone decides to attempt to penetrate the myth that surrounds the forest. People say that there is a government secret hidden deep in the wooded area, while others say that the forest is infested with magic. Most people pay no attention to the myths, like Lindsay who was headed toward the tree in the west wing corridor common space to meet with her twin brother. She sat under the tree with a book.
Jake had his last period class on the 5th floor east wing. It usually took him ten minutes to make his way over to the tree. Their school, Central Academy, was the only school in the entire country, so to hold all of the students, they had to make it the size of a modern day college campus.
Once Jake reached the tree, Lindsay stood up and put her book in her bag. Whenever the twins were near each other, the only visible difference between the two of them was their hair. Although it was the same color, they wore it in different styles. Jake had short curly brown hair, and Lindsay had thin, straight, shiny hair which was about shoulder length. Most of their teachers and friends had a very tough time distinguishing the two of them.
The twins began walking toward the south entrance of the school where the capital bus would pick them up and bring them to the Strenburg path that they would take to walk into their state.
Once they reached the entrance they met up with Jake's best friend, Charlie, who had known the twins since they were kids.
After walking a while, Charlie decided to break the silence, by saying,”I dare you to walk through Lo Sconosciuto to get home.”
Lindsay and Jake both looked at Charlie in surprise because he was usually the type to follow the rules and Jake was the one to break them. “I don't think that's a good idea. There's a reason why it's forbidden to enter,” said Lindsay.
“Then tell me what the reason is,” said Jake, who was clearly in agreement with Charlie.
“I don't know! No one does!”
“Then who says the myths are real anyways?” claimed Charlie.
“This isn't a good idea. We could get hurt and be in the middle of the forest. We already don't have any way of communication with our parents. What are we going to do if something happens?” Lindsay tried her best to convince them against going into the forest, but before she could do anything Jake ran off the path and began to climb the ten foot tall chain link fence that surrounded the forest.
“Hey! Stop! Where are you going?!” Lindsay began to run after her brother and then she too climbed over the fence.
"There, now we have no choice. We are already here, we are already breaking the law.” said Jake in a moment of triumph.
“This-” Lindsay was interrupted by Charlie who was groaning as he tried to climb the fence. He wasn't as athletic as Lindsay and Jake were, for they scaled the fence with no issues.
"Hey, over here. Can you help me? I'm afraid of heights,” said Charlie who was at the top of the fence holding on for dear life.
“You're afraid of heights? Why didn't you think of this earlier?” said Jake.
“Well I wasn't afraid of heights until now. ”
“That's great. How about you jump from there and Jake and I can catch you. ” suggested Lindsay.
“Yeah I’m down.” said Jake.
“A-are you sure?” said Charlie.
"Yes, we got you, ” said the twins.
Charlie took a deep breath and found the courage to look down and get ready to jump. “I'm jumping in 3-”
Lindsay and Jake put their arms out under him like a basket and held on to each other's shoulders.
"2-" Charlie stood on the edge of the fence.
“1-” And then he jumped.
Lindsay and Jake caught him. He really didn't have much to fear, because the twins were very reliable and very strong.
“Thank you both,” said Charlie who was very grateful.
The twins nodded and then the group looked at the tall trees and gloomy mist in the forest beyond them. They began walking in and then they realized that no matter what they came across there was no turning back.
About half an hour later the twins and Charlie sat down for a break. There was a small clearing with a stream decorated with small stepping stones and the moss was a dark, sickly green that coated the ground completely. Lindsay sat on a rock next to her brother and Charlie.
“How much farther?” she asked.
“I don't know, no one has ever made a record of the place. There are no maps. No trails. We could be anywhere right now. ” said Jake.
"Maybe this wasn't the greatest idea,” Charlie said, beginning to panic.
“We don't know where to go. ”
Lindsay was a great outdoors woman and so she began looking around for ways to make a compass. “Our home is due south of the capital, so if I make a compass, we could follow that.”
“But we can't make a compass without a needle.” said Charlie, who had the brains of the group.
“Ugh, you ' re right. Let's see where the sun is then.” Lindsay began to climb a tree.
“Wait, stop! You can't go any higher, the branches are getting thinner! You'll fall!” shouted Jake.
“These trees are so thick! I can't see anything! I'm coming down!” Lindsay shouted back. When she climbed back down the tree, she felt a shiver pass through her spine.
“Are you okay?” Jake could tell that she sensed something.
“Somethings not right.” said Charlie. He walked over to the stream which was crystal clear. The stream appeared to be about 4 feet deep and 6 feet wide. Then from the edge of the clearing where the stream came from, a wooden box slowly floated into view.
“Look, the box. It smells really bad.” said Lindsay. “But did you feel that? The shiver. The feeling. It's coming from that box, I know it. We need to open it and see what's inside. “
“Are you sure?” said Jake. He wasn't the biggest fan of the way it smelled. “If we open it, it's going to smell worse, not better.”
“Think we should open the box,” Charlie agreed.
“Jake, I need to know what's inside. There's something wrong with it.” pleaded Lindsay.
“Exactly. That's why we shouldn't open it. Because something is wrong with-” Jake was interrupted by Lindsay and Charlie stepping into the stream and lifting out the box.
“Are you not hearing? I said no. ”
Charlie was walking forward while holding on to one end of the box. He was unable to see where he had stepped, and so he fell forward. The box fell to the ground and Lindsay stepped back. The wood split and the lid came off.
“Oh no, ” Lindsay gasped, with tears in her eyes. Jake peered into the box and what he saw was completely unexpected.
Inside the box was a figure, dried out. Looking kind of like a raisin. It held the form of a small child, the age of the child would never have been able to have been recognized along with distinguishing it as a male or female. It's skin was a dark olive green with purple hues. It lay in the box. Limbs apart. Lifeless.
“I told you this was a bad idea!” said Jake. “We need to bring this back home, their family needs to know.”
“What family Jake? We don't even know who this is!”, said Lindsay, tears streaming down her face. “We need to stop whoever did this.”
“I agree. This is awful, and whoever did this needs to pay, ” said Charlie. The three of them stared at the box in solemn silence. Jake took a deep breath and put the lid back on the box. Charlie helped him lift the box and place it back in the river.
“Let's follow the river. We can probably find the source of the boxes.” said Jake. He walked off into the woods, following the river upstream. Lindsay and Charlie trailed after him.
After a while, the group came across a large building, a log cabin. There was a fire burning inside, indicating that the owner was home. There was a waterwheel next to the house where the river they had been following for an hour led to. It was a very nice area, but it almost seemed too nice. Like it was all an illusion, a fantasy.
Jake looked at Lindsay and Charlie and motioned for them to stay quiet. He moved toward the waterwheel and began placing his arms correctly to climb up it. It continued to spin slowly, lifting him toward the little open window above. He jumped in the window and then told Lindsay and Charlie to climb in as well.
“You go first,” Lindsay whispered. Charlie nodded and then took his turn climbing up the waterwheel and climbing into the house through the window. Unfortunately, Charlie hit his foot on the water wheel and the sound rang pierced the silence that was there moments before. Jake heard movements in the house and his eyes widened. Whoever lived there was going outside to check what the noise was. A hooded figure opened the front door and stepped out onto the front porch of the log cabin. Lindsay ran and hid behind the side of the house.
“Hello?” The figure asked. They stepped down the stairs and began walking towards Lindsay.
Jake motioned for her to begin climbing and Lindsay took a deep breath and hoisted herself up onto the moving water wheel. Jake offered his hand as she pulled herself through the window. As soon as she was in, the three of them ducked beneath the window so whoever lived here wouldn't see them when she rounded the corner of the house. They hid just in time, as the hooded figure had just reached the waterwheel.
It did nothing. It could feel the kids' presence. It made no sound as they walked back into the house. Jake stood up and looked out the window.
“It's gone. ”
“Good,” said Charlie, who held his breath the entire time and was now red in the face. He and Lindsay stood up and they gathered around to figure out what they were going to do.
Lindsay said,”The basement. We need to go to the basement. That's where everyone does things that they want to hide. And clearly whatever this thing is that lives here wants to hide. “
“I agree. Let's go, ” Jake and Charlie said in unison. The three of them began navigating their way around the upstairs of the house. Lindsay motioned to the boys when she found the staircase leading to the first floor. They crept down the stairs, careful as to not make a single sound that would alert anyone of their presence. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, they rounded the corner and there was a green door with eight padlocks.
“That's suspicious,” whispered Charlie. Jake and Lindsay nodded in agreement.
Fortunately the door was unlocked and the group proceeded down stairs. In the basement there were three large chairs with straps up against the wall. To the left side of the room, there were about seven closed boxes like the ones they had seen earlier that day. James walked toward the chair in the middle and sat down.
“Let's take a quick break. Whoever lives here clearly isn't here right now. Let's catch our breath.” said James.
Both Charlie and Lindsay sat in the seats on either side of Jake. “I don't think this is a good idea. They could come back any minute,” said Lindsay.
“I agree, but we ' re all very tired.”
All of a sudden there was a loud creak, and then another and yet another. The hooded figure that the group had seen earlier was coming down the stairs. When it reached the bottom, with a swipe of an arm, the kids were trapped in their chairs.
“I'm glad to see that you ' ve made yourself comfortable. After all, mi casa es su casa. ” The figure lowered its hood, and what was below looked like a woman, but like something they had never seen before. She was very pretty, with stone gray eyes, and blond hair with purple streaks.
Jake and Lindsay attempted to get free of their bonds, but the straps that held them back were not budging.
“Stop struggling, it will become tighter as you move, ” said the woman.
“Who are you?”exclaimed Charlie. “What are you going to do to us?”
The woman waved her hand, and a chair identical to the one they were sitting in appeared on the opposite side of the room so she could keep a safe distance from the kids. Not that she was the one who needed to be safe. She took a seat, got comfortable and looked at the kids determinedly.
“My name is Alessia Dola. But you can call me Lo Sconosciuto. You know what that means right? Or are they not teaching Italian in school anymore?” She said disapprovingly. When the kids offered no response Alessia Dola said,”The stranger or the unknown. People feared my magic because humanity couldn't control it so I've been trapped here for a few centuries.”
“What are you going to do to us?” Charlie asked again. Lindsay and James held their breath while they waited for her response.
“It's not what I'm going to do, it's what I have done.” Her stone gray eyes pierced the room. “I am taking your lives as we speak.”
Lindsay gasped, “That's not possible. You can't do that to us. You haven't given us potions or said any kind of enchantment.”
That's why humanity feared me. It's too hard for them to understand.” said Alessia Dora.
James turned to Lindsay and said,”Look down. We're almost evaporating.”
“It's like we ' re drying out.” added Charlie solemnly.
“Like- like the child.” said Lindsay, struggling to find her voice because her throat was dry and closing up.
Alessia Dora had stood up and walked to the side of the room with all the boxes piled up and with another swipe of her hand 3 of the wooden containers relocated beneath each of the kids chairs. Then all of a sudden, there was a loud thump and a hoarse scream, followed by two more thumps. She turned around and took a deep breath.
“I feel three times younger than I did just a minute ago. ” She laughed at her own joke and went to place the lids on the boxes. This time, instead of waving her hand she snapped her fingers and the 3 boxes which were now heavy, levitated and floated up the stairs. She followed the boxes out the door and watched them until they were out of sight. Alessia Dora let out a small psychopathic laugh and returned inside her house.
Some days later, three boxes were discovered on a river bank. They were untouched but seemed to have been handled roughly. But there was enough damage to cause the lids to break and show the horrors that remained inside. A child. No something else. A sickly green with hints of purple. A lifeless being. Dead. A nightmare.
Shannon Dennehy
Grade 9
My Thoughts
Sometimes I wonder Why I’d rather talk to strangers than my therapist, Think my mind is screwed up 'Cause all of these racing thoughts. I wish somebody knew me But I don't even know myself, I wish somebody cared enough To ask me how I felt.
Alexis-Danielle Coleman
Grade 9
For Winter is the Minor Death
When the grass no longer glows with a green aura, Or the deltas run devoid of flora, The minor Death has come.
For Winter is the minor Death, Coming swiftly with the formation of frost at night, Snuffing out any remnants of Summer’s warm breath.
When snow settles on the ground, And with the icebound vegetation locked down, Goes the sweet sound of Summer’s playgrounds, Shushed and drowned.
No longer will the children swing, But rather they will hoist, take aim, And fling snowballs at each other, All while throwing bits of Summer’s azure.
But fear not, it will not be like this for long, For Winter is merely but the minor Death. Rather, in a few months time, When the Sun runs well into the evening, Unfazed by Winter teeming, The plants will grow anew, Once again to bathe in the light of a newfound day.
Until then, We will wait for the time of Winter to pass over us; The days pageless, The trees branchless, And the Sun our Aegis.
For the words, ‘minor death,’ Will forever remain but a shibboleth.
Holding no meaning over the life beneath the frozen ground, Which knows no bounds, Waiting to be crowned as the victor, For the battle not fought, But rather, the latter.
Tevin Mbogo
too-muchscreen-time
it’s the being alone, i think it’s the being alone, i think The true meaning of stranded The true meaning of stranded a place to hide in the shadow of terror a place to hide in the shadow of terror
They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together ourselves back together
“If only she knew what I know now, ” “If only she knew what I know now, ”
spend the whole f***ing day flirting with screens spend the whole f***ing day flirting with screens the empty inbox the empty inbox eyes & eyes & eyes eyes & eyes & eyes
Because all I can reply is Because all I can reply is Perhaps the world will end Perhaps the world will end It is here It is here
Megan Ashun
Grade 9
This poem is a found poem created with lines from: “Hair” by Elizabeth Acevado “Perhaps the World Ends Here” By Joy Harjo “When I am Old” by Elizabeth Acevado “You Mean You Don't Weep at the Nail Salon?” by Elizabeth Acevado “Stoop-Sitting” by Elizabeth Acevado
Family
A dream, these days. We love like sugar cane, meshed in pure sweetness. A wistful smile tugging, At the corner of my lips As we Laugh at the viejos. My family, Blanketed from the world. We sing with joy, But also with sorrow. Taking a walk
Down the streets of memories, I realize What they really mean is this ship-wrecked family. We try to erase them. Turn to blind. Ignore it.
But the enemies And the ghosts of lovers The loud slaps And yelling The constant fighting The hate
The neglect
Full of suffering and remorse. It will never fade In this House in the rain. Broken.
But how do we fix this ship-wrecked history? We love.
I will wonder at the girl I once was, My poor falling-down self Who was so confused. But we love to touch— every greeting a cheek kiss, a shoulder clap. They squeeze & don't let go. I squeeze back. I will shake my head And be so thankful as we put ourselves back together once again. An umbrella in the sun.
My family. A daydream And a nightmare. Broken Yet Healing. Hope.
Heidy Rodriguez
Grade 9
This poem is a found poem created with lines from: “Hair” by Elizabeth Acevedo “Perhaps the World Ends Here” By Joy Harjo “When I am Old” by Elizabeth Acevedo “You Mean You Don't Weep at the Nail Salon?” by Elizabeth Acevedo “Stoop-Sitting” by Elizabeth Acevedo
Wipeout
The monotonous tides of the ocean brush the shoreline. Blankets and picnic baskets left on the coast, scattered toys of children, taken away as smoothly as a pickpocket, and captured by the ebbs of the blue crush.
Yesterday - washed away so easily, sand castle creations, muddy outlines. The sparkle of the Green Room, the perfect curl lasting only for an instant. The places that footprints morphed the sand suddenly evaporate, the tube crashes, riptides ripple, the sun starts to rise again.
Surfers are met with the morning alpenglow, first in line to welcome the new spirals.
Running quickly towards the foam with an ignorance to danger, yet it was the sharp shells that had stayed cemented in the sand that stung more than any wipeout ever could.
Tiffany Rose
Grade
12
Anya Geist Editor-in-Chief
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