The Write Touch 2021

2021

A Literary Magazine by Youth Authors and Artists of Council Bluffs, Iowa

The Write Touch 2021

38th Annual Literary Magazine

by Youth Authors and Artists

Published by The Council Bluffs Optimist Club and Council Bluffs Community School District

i

Introduction The Write Touch is published annually by the Council Bluffs Community School District in cooperation with the Council Bluffs Optimist Club. Students in the Council Bluffs Community Schools, Lewis Central Community Schools, Saint Albert Catholic Schools, Heartland Christian School, Children’s Square U.S.A., and Iowa School for the Deaf are invited to submit entries.

The Council Bluffs Community School District, Lewis Central Community School District, Saint Albert Catholic Schools, Heartland Christian School, Children’s Square U.S.A. and Iowa School for the Deaf provide instruction and encouragement to young writers and artists. It is our desire to share their original written work (with editor rights) and original artwork with school patrons and citizens of Council Bluffs.

The selection of literary works to be published is determined each year by a panel of judges from the Council Bluffs Optimist Club. Area art teachers selected the student art work that is showcased.

We hope that you enjoy this literary magazine and that you remember the citizens of this community who have made this production possible.

Dr. Corey Vorthmann Chief Academic Officer Council Bluffs Community School District

Roger Williams The Council Bluffs Optimist Club

The Write Touch can be accessed online at the Council Bluffs Community School District’s website at www.cb-schools.org, under ‘District’, then ‘Write Touch.’

Acknowledgements Our thanks to the following people for making this literary magazine possible: Interstate Printing Company, where the magazine was printed Kelsey Johnson, Communications Specialist, Council Bluffs Schools, designed and edited the magazine layout Carrie Nepple, English Language Arts Curriculum Specialist 9-12, coordinated literary items and process Michaela Hill, Visual and Performing Arts Curriculum Specialist K-12, coordinated art selection process Jennifer Urlaub, English Language Arts Curicculum Specialist 6-8, coordinated literary items Dr. Corey Vorthmann, Chief Academic Officer, Council Bluffs Schools Dr. Vickie Murillo, Superintendent, Council Bluffs Schools The Council Bluffs Optimist Club Rev. Dr. Tony Paff, Dr. Stan Driks, Mrs. Jill Hoy, Mrs. Barb Woods, writing judges Roger R. Williams and Garry Woods, The Write Touch Co-Liaisons

ii

Table of Contents Page 1 Advice to a High School Student from

an Outgoing Senior by Paxton DeVault Time by Jerek Pettit

Page 13 Learning How To Swim by Kaylee Woolsoncroft Sea Turtle by Chloe Larsen

Page 2 Earth by Aaron Kiley Ostrich by Lauren Jorgensen

Page 14 The Stages of Life and Color by Mallory Kjeldgaard Luke Leaf by Caden Nepple

Page 3 I Am Deaf by Reyenne Frieze Portrait by Keyli Sandoval

Page 15 The Forest by Yaretzi Alvarez Bear Head by Luis Barrada

Page 4 Weathering Anxiety by Rilynn Kreft

Page 16 The Garden of Peace by Francisco Soria Life Changes by Leah Johnson

Page 5 Nighttime by Jeremiah Sherrill Contrasting Faces by Kate Graeve

Page 17 Zebra by Gabrielle White fathers by Plum Brugenhemke

Page 6 Bones by Caragan Underwood Risk of Life by Teddy Devine

Page 18 My Honest Feelings by Lilly Hiatt Literature as Love by Kyleigh Moore

Page 7 Invisible Rainbows by Ava Eickholt Jaroni by Ross Talbott-Bohn

Page 19 Excerpt-From Home by Emma Vodicka Arc de Triomphe Value by Holly Schroeder

Page 8 The 2020 Pandemic by Hunter Venteicher Novel Disease by Kennedy Sanchez

Page 20

Page 9 Missing Pieces by Ty James The Court by Jazmyne Villalobos

Page 21 War Machine by Warren Summers Disappointment at the Dome by Brandon McCall

Grand View by Sophia McEntaffer

Page 10 When I Learned My Lesson...by Molly Wise Page 22 Untitled by Kylie Woolery Refreshing by Sarah Riley Grief by Grace Burroughs Page 11 Manos by Sophia Thomas I Found Her by Chloe Brooks

Page 23 They Would Never Know by Maria Mitzel OP Art Triangles by Ethan Vetick

Page 12 Behind The Mask by Paige Sundberg What My Anxiety Feels Like

by Lauryn Gwennap

Page 24 Who Am I? by Jillian Munoz

iii

Advice to a High School Student from an Outgoing Senior Paxton DeVault

Grade 12, Thomas Jefferson High School

One thing that every student dreads is the transition from middle school to high school. You see all these movies that high school is made out to be a big and scary place, filled with mean and gruesome students and constant worries. In reality, high school can be some of the best and easiest years of your life - whether you realize it or not.

Before my freshman year of high school, I had a list of worries piled up inside my head. I was afraid I was going to get lost in such a big school, I was going to fail all my classes, and all the upperclassmen were going to bully me. And that is exactly what you see in the movies, right? And yes, I can admit I did get lost a few times, but I had nothing to worry about. I was needlessly overthinking.

Then that got me thinking…what advice would I have given to myself as a freshman? And, what advice would current and alumni students give to us?

“I was scared I was gonna get lost since it was such a bigger building, but I wasn’t really scared of the people,” says Sydney Doughman, class of 2021. “I was more afraid of going into middle school - having to change classes for the first time. Now that I’m a senior at TJ, I think it’s silly that I was scared of getting lost. High school goes by so fast, and it feels like yesterday I was scared of it. Now I’m feeling the same way towards college, and it’ll soon be the same - I’ll think it was silly.”

1990 TJHS graduate Scott Anderson said, “Don’t forget that it’s okay to be driven to succeed, and it’s also okay to slow down a bit and observe what’s going on around you before you miss it.”

“Make memories!” said 1988 TJHS grad Chris Brown-Bennett. “And don’t be afraid to try new things. Don’t be someone you’re not just to fit in with the crowd. They won’t matter in five years anyway!”

1989 TJHS alum DeVella Graybill Butler said, “Be more outgoing! Be kind to everyone. Don’t get into the cliques and drama. Life is too short. Aim High. You can do it!”

“There is more to life than who and what is inside the walls of your high school,” said 1988 TJHS grad Barb Gill. “Don’t let anyone else define who you are. Take risks, challenge yourself, and have fun along the way!”

Time

Jerek Pettit

Grade 9, Abraham Lincoln High School

As I sit down at the table, ready for my mother to place a plate full of food down on the table, she places it down, and I’ve never felt so cozy in my life. It was like sitting down next to a fire on Christmas.

Next thing you know, I’m sitting down in my 5th grade class watching kids play outside. I get handed a paper from my teacher that bolds - QUIZ - at the top like the billboard down the street trying to promote their company.

I place my pencil down on the paper, and now I’m at the DMV getting my permit. I remember studying for that test for days like a college kid in school.

Now that I am typing this poem, I realize how much time I’ve spent on useless things. As I am reaching for the lid of my computer, I never knew the good times I was in until I left it.

1

The Write Touch

Earth

Aaron Kiley

Grade 8, Saint Albert Middle School The creator above, Created the ocean, That runs, Flowing, Shining, The birds, That fly above, The animals, That lurk, Ferocious, Caring, The trees blowing, With the wind, Fresh, Pine, The scene, With all the green, From whom created it all, As one leaf, Falls.

Ostrich

Lauren Jorgensen

Grade 11, Lewis Central High School

The Write Touch

2

I Am Deaf Ryenne Frieze

Grade 12, Iowa School of the Deaf I am Deaf They are hearing Communication struggle miscommunication, miscommunication, miscommunication Walk Away - Walk Away - Walk Away lonely, disguise, sadness I am frustrated They are oppressive

A Deaf group? join, sign language, reveal who I am Friend - Friend - Friend, smile, remove disguise, reveal who I am more They are hearing communication, struggle, miscommunication But Deaf communication - communication - communication They are hearing but have open minds They are hearing but with smiles We are Deaf now smiling I am smiling I have friends

Portrait

Keyli Sandoval

Grade 11, Lewis Central High School

3

The Write Touch

Weathering Anxiety Rilynn Kreft

Grade 8, Woodrow Wilson Middle School

My heart starts beating fast. My face turns hot and glowing red. Palms getting sweaty. What is this feeling? I start to shake. I was fine a moment ago. The teacher is talking gibberish, but everyone is looking at me so he must have said my name.

“What?” My voice is weak, almost no sound.

“Question 7, What’s the answer?”

I look down at my paper, but all my numbers have become a smudge of red ink.

“Ummm…”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Sometime soon,”his voice echoes through my head and swirls in a tornado around me.

“Ummm… can I go to the bathroom?” I ask.

He looks annoyed. “Really?” he asks.

“Yes please.” My eyes plead with him to say yes.

“Fine. Make it quick.”

He moves on to another kid. I don’t recognize any of them. I see bodies of color with no faces. I stumble to the door leaving as fast as my legs can carry me. As soon as I’m out, I run to the bathroom. I sit on the cold tile; my back pasted to the cement wall. Like a wave, my emotions overcome me, drowning me. They push me farther down to the bottom of the ocean. Hot tears are pouring out of my eyes. The waves continue to come. Crashing on top of me.

Pushing me farther and farther underwater.

Calm. I will calm myself. I have to calm myself. Another wave pulls me further down. I have to breathe.

Breathe in 1...2...3. Breathe out 1...2...3. I grab my elbows and squeeze with my eyes shut tight. Waves continually crash. Breathe in 1...2...3. Breathe out 1..2..3. The waves start to slow. Breathe in 1..2..3. Breathe out 1..2..3. A final wave crashes but this time I stand above it. Breathe in 1..2..3. Breathe out 1..2..3.

When I open my eyes the waves are gone. My eyes are no longer dripping with tears. I am above my storm. I stand. I walk back to class and sit down. The kids I now recognize. The teacher I now understand.

“Question 7?” he asks as I sit.

“36,” I say with no hesitation.

The Write Touch

4

Nighttime

Jeremiah Sherrill

Grade 8, Saint Albert Middle School Nighttime the baby cries, I open my eyes.

The wind howls, the wolf scowls.

Nighttime the rain goes pitter-patter, the mice skitter-scatter.

I rock the baby, we will sleep again, maybe.

Nighttime the floor creaks, the sink leaks.

The owls call, the branches fall, Nighttime the baby sleeps, my alarm beeps.

No longer Nighttime.

Contrasting Faces Kate Graeve

Grade 7, Lewis Central Middle School

5

The Write Touch

Bones

Caragan Underwood

Grade 12, Abraham Lincoln High School

Risk of Life Teddy Devine

Grade 10, Abraham Lincoln High School And then the day came, when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

The Write Touch

6

Invisible Rainbows

Ava Eickholt

Grade 8, Saint Albert Middle School

A strike of thunder A drop of rain A single tear Gone down the drain.

A silent cry A sad sigh A locked door A wish to die.

A mind of gold A piece of silver A crumpled tissue A quiet quiver.

A broken heart A cut chain A scratch on skin A secret pain.

A strike of thunder A drop of rain A single tear Gone down the drain.

Jaroni

Ross Talbott-Bohn

Grade 9, Thomas Jefferson High School

7

The Write Touch

The 2020 Pandemic Hunter Venteicher

Grade 8, Saint Albert Middle School This year has been tough, And it has been rough.

We have lost a lot, This year has felt like a knot.

Things closed back in Spring, Online school was a thing.

Zoom, google, discord, Please help us out dear Lord!

Masks are a part of our everyday lives, If you wear them long enough, you could get hives!

They need to be washed about every day, When I try to eat or drink, it gets in the way.

Our two week long break, Although I was happy to take, Became a 6 month long staycation, I would rather have been ON vacation.

I hope things get back to normal soon, Maybe by the next full moon?

Looking forward to holidays full of fun, The same thought might be shared by everyone!

Novel Disease Kennedy Sanchez

Grade 9, Saint Albert High School Beautiful day Stormed by the unknown Novel and strange Scared to go home Waves of distraction Up and down Focus on the time Before the infection Words on the screen Becoming reality Anonymous disease Began as a laugh Sun shining Germs infecting Wanting to stay Forever in Beautiful day

The Write Touch

8

Missing Pieces Ty James

Grade 10, Abraham Lincoln High School

The Court

Jazmyne Villalobos

Grade 10, Abraham Lincoln High School

The sweat dripping down my neck like water droplets dripping down the stem of a growing plant. The sound of the crowd roaring through the gym like the birds chirping on a bright sunny morning. It started off just a game, but it became more than that. It became a part of me. My life. Every day growing more and more - like a sunflower grows inch by inch soaking up the water from the rain and the light from the sun. My sun on the court is my coach and my teammates. When growing there are always obstacles. Injuries, drama, haters. There is always going to be someone routing for your downfall, but when there is failure, there is success. The wind blowing hard against the plant making it fall down - trying its best to get back up. Taking a charge in the game is like going against the wind - trying to get up after that hit. Sometimes getting hit by that wind makes everything go black. All you see is dark emptiness.

9

The Write Touch

When I Learned My Lesson...

Molly Wise

Grade 7, Saint Albert Middle School

It started as a pretty great day, my parents told me we were going to Christy Creme for dinner. Now as a little girl, that is a big deal. So of course I was feeling excited. We finally got in the car to go eat dinner. My parents ordered for me, and I wanted chicken nuggets. I got a four piece, and then ate some onion rings.

Now I was definitely a stubborn little girl. If I put my mind to something, that was what was happening.

My parents, like any other parents, tell you to eat all of your food before you get dessert. So I think I’d only had one nugget to eat, and I didn't want to eat what was left before dessert. My parents warned me many times that if I don't finish my dinner, I don't get my ice cream. I felt stubborn to say the least. I absolutely refused to finish my chicken nuggets. In my head I thought that there was no way my parents wouldn’t get me ice cream.

I thought wrong.

They gave me one last warning to eat all of my food, and I didn’t. Looking back that was definitely stupid of me. So they ordered their ice cream and not mine. I threw a huge fit, crying and screaming in front of the whole restaurant. My dad had to escort me out of Christy Creme. I was feeling very mad and was surprised that I didn't get away with not finishing my meal. My dad was not happy at all. He put me in the car seat and drove me home while my mom and brother got to eat their ice cream. I was bawling on the way home, kicking and screaming. I had to go to bed immediately when we got home because my behavior was so awful.

Thinking back, I probably embarrassed my parents and myself. When I finally calmed down, I gathered my thoughts. I learned my lesson for the better and realized that I need to listen to my parents because they will stay with what they say. I said sorry the next day, and they forgave me. Since then I have always finished my meal, especially if dessert is on the line. But I learned more than just that. I also learned to listen to my parents and not be so stubborn.

Refreshing Sarah Riley

Grade 8, Wilson Middle School

The Write Touch

10

Manos

Sophia Thomas

Grade 7, Lewis Central Middle School

I Found Her Chloe Brooks

Grade 12, Thomas Jefferson High School I Found her Almost as beautiful and pristine as ever Dark Hazel eyes greeted me Open wide in amazement Her lips Still filled with color Chapped and dry As if she laughed the moisture away Her hair Silky smooth Danced across the floor Spreading bright red through the room Her skin Pale and bright Stained with scarlet patterns As if she was painting with a joyous palette Oh, how I found her Laying in such a dainty position As graceful as an angel As the life left her Dark, Hazel eyes

11

The Write Touch

Behind The Mask Paige Sundberg

Grade 9, Saint Albert High School

It’s 6 a.m. A constant annoying beeping wakes us up. We force our eyes open. They are crusty from sleeping because we forgot to take off our makeup from the previous day.

We sit there and ponder for a while, wondering if we should get going or go back to sleep. We roll back over and doze off. Our eyes open up again, and we realize in ten minutes we have to leave. But, we don’t freak out because this is normal.

We wipe away the mascara that has run down our face with ice cold water that feels like needles on our skin.

Just enough time to brush our thin hair and put it in a messy bun. We don’t pack a lunch because food is bad, and food is scary. We don’t eat breakfast either because the hunger pains are better than being ¨fat¨.

We hop in the driver’s seat and set out on our day before us. After a drive with loud music trying to drown out our crazy mind, we arrive at school and walk in with our friends. There is laughter and chatter, and we are greeted by smiling faces. We find our seat in our first class - just in time for the bell.

We go through our day as a typical teenager would: talking, laughing, and smiling. We make it through the school day, pretending like everything is ok. We get into our car and just sit there and ponder for a while: ¨What’s my purpose?¨ ¨Am I worthy?¨ ¨Does anyone care?¨ But those thoughts are filtered by: ¨You have a purpose.¨ ¨You are worth it.¨ ¨You are loved, and people care about you.¨

We shift out of park and into drive. We get home, and our mom says, ¨Hi, how was your day?¨ We respond with ¨fine¨ because she wouldn’t understand. In our room, we try to do our homework but have no motivation because our mind is wondering once again. Lay in bed and scroll through social media. But scrolling through social media is like gasoline making contact with a flame. We set the phone down, hoping to escape the unrealistic reality that everyone sees online.

Laying in bed staring at the blank ceiling, tears slowly roll out of our eyes like a leaky faucet. Since we are home and no one is around, we can finally let out how we feel.

Sometimes it’s ok not to be ok, and that’s fine. Going through the day with low self esteem and lack of confidence represents a whole other person - ¨we¨ - an annoying voice in your head that only speaks words of negativity.

Sometimes the people who seem like they have it together, struggle to keep it together.

What My Anxiety Feels Like Lauryn Gwennap

Grade 8, Wilson Middle School

Breathe, just breathe, with my hands shaking and my mind jumbled. Why is this happening? I was just fine. Now it feels like I have the world’s weight on me. It’s so loud in here, someone's tapping their pencil, the music is too loud in their headphones, everyone can hear it. People are talking. I can’t focus. Trying to look at my screen, reading the words over and over again. I can’t breathe. The air around me is leaving, people are getting louder, my head is going to explode. I have so many thoughts. Are people looking at me? Does anyone notice?

I want to disappear.

Finally, I get to leave the classroom, my heart jumping. I don’t know where I’m going. My legs are walking, but my mind isn’t there. Everything is closing in on me. I sit breathing in and out trying to get a hold of myself.

Cold. Someone puts their hand on me and brings me back to the real world asking me if I’m okay. “Yes,” I say getting up to walk back to class. I have it under control; my anxiety is leaving. I’m back in control. I walk back to class and sit down, and I tell myself everything is okay.

The Write Touch

12

Learning How To Swim

Kaylee Woolsoncroft

Grade 10, Abraham Lincoln High School

Before you, it was like swimming in the deep end but not knowing how to swim. Crossing paths was unexpected but needed. Seeing my head underwater, struggling to breath, you acted as my lifeguard. Instead of leaving me out, you kept me in.

Kick your legs, stroke your arms, and don't stop until you are on the other side. Feeling like I should just let the water swallow me whole and sink into the deep waters below, you pull me up and show me it is just one stroke at a time. One stroke, kick legs, and my head emerged out of the turquoise water. Wanting to stop, I keep going - one stroke at a time. The chlorine burns my eyes and floods my nose. My arms are cramping, but I keep going - one stroke at a time. Just like that, I'm on the other side and taking the first breath finally feeling free.

Sea Turtle Chloe Larsen

Grade 11, Abraham Lincoln High School

13

The Write Touch

The Stages of Life and Color Mallory Kjeldgaard

Grade 9, Lewis Central High School School

When I was young, I thought my favorite color might be yellow. I saw the world in an envelope of brightness. The world was a wondrous place for me to explore. I was guarded against the malicious things that happen. When you are young, you are naive. And so yellow was the brightest color of them all. It is the color of the sun, which gave me kisses of freckles and warmed my bare feet when I danced in the grass. It was the color of my hair, my bright blonde hair that my family adored so much.

And then, after a couple of years, I thought my favorite color might be blue. I was in school now, and I realized that the world was not as great as I had initially thought. My room was overloaded with pink. It is a girl’s color. But at school, I didn’t want to be seen as a girl. Girls are weak. Girls were never asked to carry the desks when we got new seat arrangements. It was always, “can I have some strong boys please come move the desk?” - as if girls couldn’t be strong. If you throw like a girl, you throw badly. If you run like a girl, you are slow. If you are a girl, you are weak. So I turned my back on the color pink. If I wore blue, I wouldn’t be seen as a ‘girly girl’. If I never wore dresses, skirts, sparkles, rainbows, or anything deemed as feminine, I wouldn’t be seen as weak. If I stopped wearing earrings, letting my piercing that I had begged to get for weeks close, I would be seen as strong.

After that, I thought my favorite color might be lavender. It was a light color that made me happy. It reminded me of the flowers and picking them while hiking in my backyard. It brought back memories of being young in the summer - not having a care in the world. It reminded me of the sweet flowery scent of freedom. It was a color that made me happy. It wasn’t pink or blue. It was just me. And I was just beginning to figure out who I was.

Then I realized that my favorite color might be green. It is the color of the trees, the grass, the earth as a whole. It represented nature and the peace that came with it. It combated the new way I perceived the world. I was becoming more aware of the world around me - no longer stuck in my own bubble of existence. I understood the extent of the damage being done to the Earth. The pollution in the air from automobiles. The trash littering the green ground. The dead trees. The dead animals. The slowly dying earth. In such an injured world, green was the color of comfort. It represented the living; the beauty that still existed in a world of chaos. I could use some beauty in my life.

Luke Leaf

Caden Nepple Grade 6, Lewis Central Middle School Dear Tree,

Hi, this is Luke Leaf. I want to stay on your branches. I can see everything from here. It is so fun here. But the leaf next to me, Logan Leaf, said that we fall in the fall. Considering how high up we are, I think that would hurt. I don’t know if there is any truth to that, but I’m not taking any risk. And besides, you have only had me on for six months.

This afternoon you won’t believe what I heard. The kids that always climb on you said they can’t wait until the leaves fall! They said that they were going to put us all in a pile and jump on us! Who would do that? Can’t they just stay inside and play video games like normal kids? Besides if you let us go, you would be SO cold and so lonely in the winter. I will do anything. Just please keep us on your branches.

Please Consider, Luke Leaf

The Write Touch

14

The Forest Yaretzi Alvarez

Grade 8, Saint Albert Middle School

The forest is dark and green.

Filled with flowers and overgrown trees, With the morning dew feeling fresh on your skin, And the dark clouds cleared up.

The cottage is up ahead, Where memories were made.

But you return to make new ones, And forget the old.

The sun started to show through the cumulus clouds.

Tiny Rainbows form from the water droplets on the leaves, You can hear the wildlife all around you.

You forget what you came to do, your mind begins to drift away.

You begin to notice the true beauty of the forest,

Listening to sounds of the wilderness.

Seeing the colors of each individual plant, Smelling the fresh natural scent of the scenery.

Finally having closure with any doubts that filled your mind, Motionless.

At peace.

Bear Head Luis Barradas

Grade 11, Lewis Central High School

15

The Write Touch

The Garden of Peace Francisco Soria

Grade 12, Kanesville Alternative Learning School

A dream, a dream my grandfather had about a heaven that exists in his backyard. A garden of peace and of an old culture. An angel statue in the middle surrounded by rose bushes. With flowers bright as a small sun, vines crawling around the angel, and leaves dancing in the wind. Four paths built of old bricks lead to a statue covered in rose petals and to trees of all colors showing their history in the bright morning sun. Old Roman columns are wrapped with a line of roses leading to the top where bird nests lie.

Nearby you hear the birds chirping in the distance. You hear blue jays, a robin, and red birds. Some are hidden in trees, others building nests, and others getting food for the small new hatchlings.

In a corner, there's a small table with two chairs. You can sit and have coffee or tea. With the leaves of the trees or mint plants around the sitting area, you need for television. It is a place of peace. You can enjoy the wonders around.

You can see animals that come and go, sleep outdoors, or even meditate.

As the sun goes down, everything starts to sleep. The birds start to settle down. The butterflies start to leave.

With the glow of the statue, as you leave heaven, the wind that russells through the garden whispers telling you a story of the past and of a dream where you find heaven of peace.

Life Changes Leah Johnson

Grade 9, Abraham Lincoln High School

Today had been rough, as usual. I don’t really hang out with my friends anymore; they cause drama. I’ve given up on boyfriends; they just break your heart. My mom says I should get out of the house and go somewhere. I might know where.

It’s 2:00 a.m., and I'm deciding to go on a midnight adventure. My bedroom is in the basement so it’s not hard to sneak out as long as I get back before the sun (and my mom) rise. The night was cold, dark, and waiting for adventure. I work my way up to the top of Pike’s Hill where you can look out above the city.

This was the place my grandpa and I would go on Saturdays at 4:00 p.m. I decide to sit on the railing like I used to; except, my grandpa is no longer making sure I don’t fall. He always told me to live life on the edge and experience new things - or at least he did before he passed away this summer. I feel so calm up here; it’s almost as if I feel my grandpa standing behind me.

I’m exploring my thoughts and emotions that swirl in my head like a tornado. I think about memories, back to when it didn’t seem as though I was living the same day on repeat. Over and over like a record player. I remember when we would go to my grandma’s house for the holidays. I envision all the family gathering around to open presents. It’s like a movie screen playing before me. There he is. I give him a big hug and feel home at last. I let the memory engulf me. But wait, why did I feel like I was slammed on the ground…

The Write Touch

16

Zebra

Gabrielle White

Grade 11, Lewis Central High School

fathers

Plum Brugenhemke

Grade 9, Saint Albert High School

17

fathers are supposed to be strong, courageous, smart they’re supposed to keep you safe in a bubble of happiness, love, protection but sometimes they don’t and you watch flashes of blue and red coming towards you standing on the lawn staring at your father and you realize this time it isn’t just someone else's problem

The Write Touch

My Honest Feelings

Lilly Hiatt

Grade 8, Wilson Middle School

I love you today, I'll love you tomorrow. If I ever lost you, it would cause great sorrow. While I dream, and while I wake, you'll always have my heart. So hard to steal. So easy to break. So before I rest my head on my comfortable bed, the thought of you leaving, I shall always dread. I’ll overpower the reasoning and send my love as an overpowering seasoning. So please don’t break my heart.

I can't handle unnecessary remarks. The ones that change my emotional chart. I’m one comment away from breaking, and you’d be the one taking. But as of right now, you are my joy. I fell for you like a mother would fall for her new baby boy. The unconditional love where you couldn’t get enough. I give and give until it would be too much.

I'll only stop fighting when you start lying. You’ll know I’ve given up once I start to fill my mind. When I think of you, sorrow is the only thing that fills my mind.

The memories we shared from such a lovely time. With you, I felt complete. But that didn’t stop you from leaving me. Oh, how I miss the feeling of your hugs engulfing me. The scent of your cologne that still lingers in the air and stings my nose. Those good morning and goodnight texts. The ones that made me feel loved were the best. Those long nights on the phone where we'd get into the gaming zone. Where I felt the most complete even when I have faced defeat. The times we shared were most memorable - the times when we were inseparable.

So now when I go to bed, all I dread is that my mind plays tricks on me. I’ve changed, not for the better but for the worse. I wish no one could hurt me. I wish things were the way they were before you decided to desert me. For when I am gone will be the moment you realize we would have made it all along.

Literature as Love Kyleigh Moore

Grade 9, Lewis Central High School

She clings to the words of the book like she hasn’t read it a thousand times already. As if she couldn’t tell you where this comma is or what page the character falls in love is on. As if she doesn’t rant on and on about the characters and how underrated their epiphanies are. She clings to the phrases like she doesn’t know the antagonist’s whole backstory and the main character’s whole future. As if she hasn’t imagined herself sucked into the story, finding the theme of her own life. She holds onto the plot like you hold the sweet taste of honey on your tongue, never wanting to miss any detail, any flavor. She rereads the paragraph as if she couldn’t recite it by heart. She lingers on the quotes, the structure strong and beautiful, the diction alluring. She grasps onto the book; its story, its words, its characters, its love, and holds it dear, for reading gives her that warmth that everyone craves.

The Write Touch

18

Excerpt-From Home Emma Vodicka

Grade 12, Abraham Lincoln High School

I walked onto the Florence train station for the first time in three years - not recognizing anyone that was working there. The sun was starting to set on my old, little hometown - casting shadows on the worn houses that were covered in snow. It would be another twenty minutes in the bitter cold before I got to the little shack I called my home. No one bothered to say, “Hello” or to stop me mid-step to start up a conversation about where I had been these past years. Everyone was in a hurry to get home for the holidays and to spend time with their families.

I hadn’t told my family I was coming home so none of them were there to welcome me back to Florence.

I wanted to surprise my mother for Christmas. She called me every week while I was away and always asked if I would be home for the holidays, but I always had to tell her that I couldn’t because the war was getting worse.

Thankfully, this year things had slowed down a bit and allowed me to come visit my family for a couple of weeks.

I started to walk out of the Florence train station as a big gust of bitter cold hit me hard in the face. I didn’t realize it would be so cold in Florence this soon. It usually didn’t get this cold until after Christmas. I was finally able to get past the bitter cold, and I started walking down Main Street towards home. In the town square, there were lights strung from the lamp posts and an exquisite Christmas tree filled with all of the ornaments that the young kids had made. I can’t remember the last time I actually got to see that tree in its full glory; it was stunning. I kept walking down Main Street, taking in everything that had changed. The library had been rebuilt, and it took on a whole new look. We finally had a grocery store in town, and we even had a diner.

I reached my old neighborhood and finally saw my home that I had been longing for, for so long. The trees were covered in lights and ornaments, and I could see my family talking and laughing inside the warm house. That was when I knew that I was finally home.

Arc de Triomphe Value Holly Schroeder

Grade 10, Iowa School of the Deaf

19

The Write Touch

Grand View

Sophia McEntaffer

Grade 8, Kirn Middle School

The Write Touch

20

War Machine Warren Summers

Grade 10, Abraham Lincoln High School

As we walk through the streets of a desolate town, the putrid smell of sweat and blood mixed with the mud rush up to my nose. We escort our armored vehicles through this desolate town; the crumbled buildings looking like ghosts of their former selves. Walking through this hostile land, the small patch on my left arm, those 50 stars and 13 stripes edge me on, giving me the courage to keep going. Every battle we have fought has left me with this heat and adrenaline. It has left me with my heart pounding as if it were gurgling in my throat. We trudge through the mud and blood - heavy rifles in hand waiting for battle. The adrenaline rushing through us all as if we were one.

As my scraggly beard brushed up against my bloodied uniform, we march into the belly of the beast. Going into battle, we prepare our rifles. Setting the ambush for the enemy, we wait in silence for them to march. I am trembling with fear and worry as I wonder how I will survive this encounter.

Here they come. We wait for their armor to pass. We jump out and attack. With bullets flying overhead and whizzing past my ears, I duck for cover. We start to return fire. My best friend gets shot in the knee - blood spilling everywhere. With bones coming out of the skin, he returns fire and gets shot in the head. His brains sprout out the back of his skull - as though he fell in slow motion. I shed a tear for my fallen comrade and return fire - shooting his killer in the face, making him unrecognizable. It seems that we were all going to die, but then reinforcements arrive.

We win the encounter.

Disappointment at the Dome Brandon McCall

Grade 9, Saint Albert High School

I felt very disillusioned after the game. It was like the other team ripped our whole team's heart out of every single one of us. You just feel the hollowness inside of you.

It was a cold day in the middle of November. We left school around 9:30 a.m., and I was waiting to play in the biggest football game of my life. When we arrived at the Cedar Falls hotel, I was like wow, this is actually going to happen!

It was the day of the state playoff game, and it felt like there was a lot at stake. Getting on the bus at the hotel, then seeing the top of the University of Northern Iowa Dome, I knew we were there for a reason.

When I stepped on the turf, I knew this was about to go down. I was about to play in a contest I had always dreamed about as a kid. After the National Anthem, we were ready to go to war.

We scored first with a field goal. Little did I know, we weren’t going to score many more points after that.

The other team had the ball at midfield, and their quarterback, a 6-foot, 175-pound junior, was so agile he escaped everyone’s grasp. We didn’t tackle well during the game, and they ate up the yardage. Entering the fourth quarter, we were down big, but we knew we still had a chance and never gave up.

We lost that game 34-6. I remember getting on the bus and thinking that was my last football game of the year. Questions from left and right filled my head, and I had time to think about the season on our four hour drive back home. I had a lot of emotions going through me. I knew that we did our best, and at the end of the day it’s okay because we kept trying and never gave up. It may sound kind of corny, but if I wake up knowing that I did my best in that game and in life itself, I can live with that.

That weekend was really tough because college football was on, and every time I thought of football, I thought of that game. On Monday, it was really weird because there was no football practice. It was on to the next sport.

We had a special team with a lot of good people both on and off the field. We were brothers, but more importantly, we were a family. We used to break down every practice on this, “Family on me, family on three, 1…2…3…Family.”

21

The Write Touch

Untitled

Kylie Woolery

Grade 10, Thomas Jefferson High School

Grief

Grace Burroughs

Grade 8, Saint Albert Middle School Grief is like a never ending tidal wave, Taking you under and making it hard to get back up.

You feel like you could die, You feel like giving up.

All of the pain seems to resurface, You're lost in everything, feeling like there's no way out.

You're falling deeper and deeper into the darkness.

You feel lost.

Everything is slipping away making it hard to hold on.

Your mind is being flooded with feelings, The deeper you go, the worse it gets.

You think it's going away but it comes flooding back, Taking control of your mind, Keeping you captive.

You beg for it to be over, To be taken to a better place, But you continue drowning.

Grief is like a never ending tidal wave.

The Write Touch

22

They Would Never Know Maria Mitzel

Grade 8, Saint Albert Middle School The grass so green between my toes, The smell of the flowers go into my nose.

The water reflecting the sun just right, The birds go in to play and fight.

I can hear the kids yelling and laughing, Not a worry in the world that something is happening.

The wind is carrying their cries and screams, The pain and hurting and everything in between.

The blood falling to the ground, People running round and round.

Just to be free from that horrible sight, They would not make it home that night.

People dropping to the floor, Children running and knocking on doors.

Thinking about that good old days, Eating ice cream in the sun rays.

The birds go in to play and fight, The water reflects the sun just right.

The smell of flowers go into my nose, The grass so green between my toes.

OP Art Trianges Ethan Vetick

Grade 7, Iowa School of the Deaf

23

The Write Touch

Who Am I? Jillian Munoz

Grade 10, Lewis Central High School

Each and every person is different. Different appearances, features, qualities, and personalities. These aspects of ourselves are what make and break society. It’s how we determine our friends from our enemies. It’s how we live our day to day lives and influences the choices we make. It’s why our world is such a diverse place, but ultimately it’s what makes you, you… This is me. I am organized and have anxiety.

I am organized - “having one's affairs in order so as to deal with them efficiently” (Dictionary). My closet is color coded with a specific placement of each shirt, sweatshirt, dress etc, just like everything else within my room… never out of place. I have calendars, reminders, sticky notes, note cards, and THE notebook specifically for todo lists, that explain upcoming events, assignments, tests, obligations, and sport activities. I rearrange, move, and declutter closets, storage spaces, cabinets, clothing, and whatever catches my eye that might need a tune up. I have bins, cubbies, and tubs filled with similar objects, labeled for easy access. I match my school notebooks and folders with the corresponding subject color. I have different routines that keep me on time, planned, and ready for possible mishaps. Regular school day routine, early practice routine, game day routines, weekend routines... I am organized. I am not messy. I do not keep my room, bathroom, car, or life a mess. I am not a hoarder. I am not jumbled. I am not disorganized. I have all my ducks in a row.

I have anxiety - “a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome” (Dictionary). I get butterflies in my stomach when I go out for a run by myself, when I have lots of things to juggle in life, when I have personal interactions with someone new, when I drive with other people in the car, when I don’t know anybody in a crowd, when I feel the eyes of someone staring at me. I feel butterflies when I don’t know what will happen next…what if…how could…what will the result be? My hands drip with sweat. I fidget with anything in reach - hair ties, pencils, keys, etc. I bounce my legs. I push my tongue against the roof of my mouth. I crack my knuckles and clench my fists. I look at my phone with absolutely no notifications, just to avoid something, someone, or awkwardness. I overthink. I worry. I stress. Not a day goes by where I don’t feel the sudden pain in my gut, feel the sweat running down my hands, feel the pressure on my chest, or feel the endless twitching in my leg. Anxiety is something that I deal with everyday, some days are better than others, but it never just goes away.

The Write Touch

24

Index Garcia, Nairi.................................................................................................................. Cover Alvarez, Yaretzi.....................................................................................................................15 Barradas, Luis.......................................................................................................................15 Brooks, Chloe......................................................................................................................11 Brugenhemke, Plum.............................................................................................................17 Burroughs, Grace.................................................................................................................22 DeVault, Paxton.....................................................................................................................1 Devine, Teddy........................................................................................................................6 Eickholt, Ava.........................................................................................................................7 Frieze, Ryenne........................................................................................................................3 Graeve, Kate...........................................................................................................................5 Gwennap, Lauryn................................................................................................................12 Hiatt, Lilly...........................................................................................................................18 James, Ty................................................................................................................................9 Johnson, Leah......................................................................................................................16 Jorgensen, Lauren...................................................................................................................2 Kiley, Aaron...........................................................................................................................2 Kjeldgaard, Mallory..............................................................................................................14 Kreft, Rilynn..........................................................................................................................4 Larsen, Chloe.......................................................................................................................13 McCall, Brandon.................................................................................................................21 McEntaffer, Sophia...............................................................................................................20 Mitzel, Maria.......................................................................................................................23 Moore, Kyleigh....................................................................................................................18 Munoz, Jillian......................................................................................................................24 Nepple, Caden.....................................................................................................................14 Pettit, Jerek.............................................................................................................................1 Riley, Sarah..........................................................................................................................10 Sanchez, Kennedy..................................................................................................................8 Sandoval, Keyli.......................................................................................................................3 Schroeder, Holly...................................................................................................................19 Sherrill, Jeremiah....................................................................................................................5 Soria, Francisco....................................................................................................................16 Summers, Warren.................................................................................................................21 Sunberg, Paige......................................................................................................................12 Talbott-Bohn, Ross................................................................................................................7 Thomas, Sophia....................................................................................................................11 Underwood, Caragan.............................................................................................................6 Venteicher, Hunter.................................................................................................................8 Vetick, Ethan........................................................................................................................23 Villalobos, Jazmyne................................................................................................................9 Vodicka, Emma....................................................................................................................19 White, Gabrielle...................................................................................................................17 Wise, Molly..........................................................................................................................10 Woolery, Kylie......................................................................................................................22 Woolsoncroft, Kaylee...........................................................................................................13