Amanuensis 2021

Amanuensis 2021

2021 1

Amanuensis A literary publication of: Billerica Memorial High School 35 River Street Billerica, Massachusetts 01821 Volume 45 2021 Amanuensis: (e m an’ yoo en’ sez), n,. pl. –ses (sez). A person employed to write what another dictates or to copy what has been written by another; secretary\A*man‘u*en’sis\, n.; pl. Amanuenses. [L., fr. a, ab + manus hand.] A person whose employment is to write what another dictates, or to copy what another has written. n : someone skilled in the transcription of speech (especially dictation) One who is employed to take dictation or to copy manuscript [Latin manunsis, from phrase (servus) man, (slave) at handwriting :, ab, by; see ab-1 + man, ablative of manus, hand; see man-2 in IndoEuropean Roots.]

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Editorial Board

Advisors

Eloise Barriault Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi Madison Dempsey Kristina Duong Payal Gandhi Peter Gianacopolis Leah Hall Lily Harutyunyan Mary Harutyunyan Shiv Meiyur Shannon Moore Sarah O’Connell Adriana Ortiz Dhara Patel Kunj Patel Edla Saint Rose Nazneen Sheikh Elena Staples

Jessica Camasso David Ciccarelli

Special Thanks Catie Button Sandra Davidson Matt DeFeo Brenda Fredericks Brett Kelley

Cover Art Front Cover: Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi Back Cover: Chloe Lyons 3

AMANUENSIS

Table of Contents Art Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi…………………………..……...

Photography……………………...….Front Cover

Amina Elfadil………………………….………………...…..

Photography………………..………...…………6

Matt Malnati…...…………………………………….………

Awad Khalifa….……………………………………….……

Abigail Zeigler……………………………………..……….

Zoe Vallis……………………………………………….…...

Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi…………………………..……...

Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi………………………..………..

Edla Saint Rose………………………….………………….

Puja Jhaveri………………………….………………….….

Larissa Moura………………………….………………......

Larissa Moura………………………….…………………...

Awad Khalifa………………………….…………….……...

Payal Gandhi..………………………….……………….…..

Kristina Duong………………………….…………..……...

Madhav Rana………………………….………….………...

Adele Gallagher………………………….……….………..

Ally LeBeau………………………….…………...………..

John Horan……...………………………….………...……

Morgan Cronin………………………….……..…………..

Brian Hamilton………………………….………………….

Payal Gandhi….………………………….……………...…

Eloise Barriault…..………………………….……...……...

Brendan Cook………………………….………………….

Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi……………….……………….

Skylar Boilard………………………….…………...……..

Carlie Cronin………………………….……………….….

Alyssa McDonald………………………….……………...

Carter Grise………………………….…………………….

Dani Dillon………………………….…………………….

Paige McCaffrey………………………….……………….

Chloe Lyons………………………….……………….

Computer graphics…………...…...…….………7 Photography………………………….…………8 Photography………………………….…………8 Watercolor……………………..………………10 Photography……………………...………..…..11 Photography…………………….…...………...11 Pen and ink………………………….…………12 Photography…………………………...………15 Acrylic………………………….……………..16 Photography…………………….……...…...…17 Oil pastel………………………….…….……..18 Photography………………….………………..19 Photography…………………….……...…...…19 Photography……………………….…………..20 Photography……………………….…….…….22 Photography………………………….……..…23 Photography……………………….……….….24 Pen and ink……………………….……………25 Photography…………………….……...……...29 Photography…………………….…………..…30 Computer graphics……………….…………....30 Computer graphics………………………….…31 Photography………………………….…….….33 Pencil…………….……………….…………...34 Pen and ink……………………….….…...……36 Colored pencil……………………….……..….38 Photography………………………….……..…39 Mixed media………………………….…….…41 Colored Pencil…………………….…….……..42 Computer graphics…………….….…Back Cover

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Table of Contents Writing Things I Carry………..……………………. Grace Morrissey……….……...………..…6 The Dove’s Black Wings…………….……. Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi….……………9 The Unforgiving Deed…………………….. Craig Fiorino…………………………….10 Punks and Steam………………………..…. Owen Kwet………………………....…...11 The Girl……………………………………. Madison Rizzo………………….……….15 Power……………………………………… Kevin Holzer………………………….…15 The Sky……………………………………. Chris Viscione…………………………..16 Untitled……………………………………. Daniel Magill……….……………...……18 Untitled………………………..…………... Bo Bonifanti…………….…………...…..21 The Heart’s Desire…….…………………... Esme Mandile………….………..…..…..22 Life of a Highschooler…………………….. Sydney Nortelus………………….…...…23 A Winter From The Future’s Eye*……….

Ayati Biswas..……………..………..…...26

Untitled……………………………………. Peter Gianacopolis..……………………..32 Narcissistic Bird…………………………… Esme Mandile…………………………...35 When First I Met You…………………….. Anonymous………………………….…..36 Untitled……………………………………. Alexis Efstratiou………………………...38 Untitled……………………………………. Daneevah Dorleans……………………...39 The Doll House……………………………. Owen Kwet……………………………...40 * Denotes contest winner

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AMANUENSIS

Things I Carry

By Grace Morrissey I carry my phone How I carry my attitude with my brother I carry my Chapstick Like I carry my pride I carry my license Like I carry my respect for myself I carry my wallet As strong as I hold onto my worth

I carry my mask Like I carry my will to live

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Amina Elfadil

2021

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Matt Malnati

AMANUENSIS

Awad Khalifa

Abigail Zeigler 8

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The Dove's Black Wings

By Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi Beaming in ever so white color spotless and clear.

The Dove sings with a face streaming of tears.

It’s wings are covered of dark dry feathers, black as the moon’s cover at night.

A Dove stained with black wings can’t clean such blemish itself.

By force, it’ll try to fly, and spread its wings.

Regain its beloved white feathers it once loved.

Though as hard as it may be, even a planted rock will not budge with all your might.

Then, with concern they suggest.

“Dove, why don’t you try cutting your wings?"

But the Dove refused to do such an unthinkable thing.

A Dove stained with black wings could not part from its tainted feathers.

“Time will come, though as it may seem one day I will be freed of these withering wings,” The Dove responded.

A Dove stained with black wings may only sit and wait for its rightful colors to return.

So they ask the Dove with much of their love.

“As you wish. Though as you wait all on your own, may you let us stay alongside you?”

For a Dove stained with black wings may not sit alone waiting for its color to bloom.

For it to return to its lovely state, being with others is a much greater place.

Alone you will spoil all throughout.

Though with company, time will run past you.

Unrealizing your wings have been healed to it’s lovely white color.

Spotless and clear.

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AMANUENSIS

The Unforgiving Deed

By Craig Fiorino Bundle up for a snow days work Not a notion of skirk Until you realize As you watch the snow rise You’ll be out for ten, Out for twenty, Out until your hands bleed To complete an endless deed.

Shovel all you can.

Watch the piles grow, As you grow tired.

Too much snow.

No place to throw.

The piles tower tall.

Snow continues to fall.

Snow covers it swift, as if you haven’t shoveled at all.

Sarah Thomas 10

Zoe Vallis

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Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi

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Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi

AMANUENSIS

“Punks and Steam”

By Owen Kwet “Professor Weston! Professor Weston!” I cried.

“What is it, Earl!?” my professor asked.

“I can go fight in that battle, correct?”

“Hell no! You are inexperienced! You have nothing but Cs in your classes!”

I attended Steampunk Masters University here in Philadelphia. There were analog computer experts, steam-powered robots, steam-powered locomotives, and steam-powered cannons.

Our school had thousands of new ideas already printed. I just barely made the cut to get into this prestigious school, and now, I’m wondering why I didn't go to that state school that my folks pressured me to go to. I was only 19, okay!? I didn't know what I was doing with my life! All my classmates were doing so well; they were all perfect in these classes and I was just barely passing by. Aeronautics class, that was a killer. I can obtain the information, but I can’t execute the tasks. Besides, I’m not meant to be in this class. I can’t fly a successful speed dirigible, and my professors keep giving me Cs and Ds. We kept our biggest inventions in secret, on blueprints. We had the brightest ideas in steampunk history. A steam-powered robot that could auto-pilot a dirigible, helmets with propellers, a gear that can fix any machine just when you added it to its axle, and our most innovative invention, robotic animals that could live just like normal animals.

“Hey, Earl!” I heard a voice that sounded way too familiar.

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Edla Saint Rose

2021 “Jesus Christ,” I muttered to myself.

It was Clement Gardner, who, at the top of the food chain, was entitled to talk down to others.

He was sore, and he had no respect for me, which in turn had my self-esteem taken down to an all-time low.

“I heard you crashed right into a kiddie pool! You're so dumb!” he yelled.

“I got scared, now shut the f*** up!” I said back. I think a fuse blew inside of me.

“Scuse me?!”

Damnit. Why did I do that?

My entire body was pushed right into the cement. I was in a helluva lot of pain.

“Go home, Cranston!” he sneered.

I probably should have, because there was no way I would be getting anything above a C...

Until… something unbelievable happened.

There was a loud, “BOOM!” on the runway near the school, and so many pilots were injured due to a crash. Robots were destroyed, students were on the verge of death, and almost all of the dirigibles and airplanes were destroyed. In the sky were the Academy of the Steampunk Sharks Fighter Pilots. They were at war with us. The reason behind this is because they want to steal our blueprints for all these new machines.

All of our pilots were injured, dead, had Polio, or were not flying today. Then there was little ol’ me. I was in reserve in case one pilot needed assistance or had Polio. Then, Professor Weston came out and said, “Cranston, Gardner, you need to attack those aircraft, now!”

Was he serious? Yep. I had to co-pilot with my worst enemy, Clement. But it was now or never for us. We strapped in and took off.

“Man, why did I have to be put with you?” said Clement.

“Because we’re the last line of defense,” I said back.

“Just stay outta my way or I will knock you out of this plane!”

“Dude what’s your deal?”

“My deal is that I need to be good at this, or my family’s gonna think I’m weak!”

“I don't think you're weak, I was just mad because you keep attacking me!”

“That’s just something that I did because it’s the thing that I know how to do!”

“There are other ways to do things in life.”

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“Seriously? Like wh-?”

He got hit; it was a small BB, and it got Gardner right in the eye.

“Ah damn! What the f*** was that?!” Gardner screamed.

“You got shot in the eye! You can't see anything!” I said back.

We were doomed, but that’s when a plan hatched in my mind.

“I’ll be your eyes,” I said.

“Are you serious? We’ll crash!”

“Just trust me!”

“Ughhhhh!!! Fine!”

I gave him all the information.

“FIRE NOW!” I yelled.

“LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! RIGHT!” I yelled again.

“Ok, this is the last one! Fire….. NOW!” The last aircraft was gone, then we made an emergency landing. It was truly a miracle.

“You saved our lives,” said Clement.

“So did you,” I said back.

“I, I'm sorry.”

“Me too.”

Damn, I guess we both learned a lot today.

I felt like now he and I could put the past behind us and we could both become amazing engineers.

Time passed, and Clement began to work hard even with an eye injury, and I began to do the same.

I got a B! Plus, the blueprints were safe, which meant we were able to keep working on our new inventions and safely release our robotic animals into the wild and let them mingle with real animals.

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The Girl - After Nin Andrews

By Madison Rizzo The girl who was a bookcase knew one thing, she was filled with beauty She was filled with knowledge, more than anyone has ever known Shelves cluttered with dreams and stories Pages filled with endless lessons of forgiveness and understanding Everything she needed to know was right there with her

Puja Jhaveri

Power

By Kevin Holzer The struggle of power is real.

It’s something that everyone feels, Especially at this time, With an election as sour as lime.

We were close to a social media ban.

“Will you shut up, man?”

Could it get any worse? I don’t think it can That is, until a week into the new year.

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AMANUENSIS “The Sky”

By Chris Viscione One winter's night after a big snow storm I was walking outside alone; the snow was falling quietly around me, the sound of nothingness consuming me and my thoughts. I have nowhere in mind as to where I'm walking to, I just needed to get some fresh air and enjoy the peace with no one else but my own company. As I was walking on the sidewalk I heard a car approaching behind me. I looked back to find out that it was sliding on ice, struggling to come to a halt. I quickly jumped out of the way before the car had a chance to hit me and it ended up colliding with a large snow bank that had formed on the side of the road. I rushed to help the driver and anyone else that was in the car. “Are you alright?” I asked. It ended up being an old lady who was coming home from her favorite coffee shop in the town. She said “I’m

fine, thank you for asking” and managed to get her car unstuck and continue on her way. I watched as she drove off and took a breath of relief. That was a close one, I thought to myself. I kept on walking and eventually got to a bridge, it looked like a scene out of a movie, the river below was flowing softly, the Larissa Moura

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snow was falling and the sky

2021 was dark but filled with

Larissa Moura

complete darkness. I had never seen the sky so black before; it seemed that something bad was upon us as a world. I stopped and stared for a while, then when I realized how long I had been standing there on the bridge admiring the sky I

snapped out of it and kept on walking, but this time in the direction of home. It was about 11:00 now and I was getting tired. My legs were starting to drag beneath me and my toes and fingers were starting to go numb. I walked past the spot where the accident took place and realized that people had surrounded the area and I saw the same car only it was stuck in the snow bank again. That's weird, I thought to myself, I had seen it drive off. I began walking over in confusion. “What happened?” I asked the man standing next to me. No response.

I turned to the woman next to me, again, no response, and to my horror, I looked to see who it was lying on the ground, and it was me; I was dead. My unresponsive body, lying there, after being hit by a car on my peaceful late night walk.

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AMANUENSIS

Untitled

By Daniel Magill Here I am stumbling along, Still uncertain about this song, The rhythm's ever elusive The raging storm intrusive No one's acting tame The whole world aflame Yet some in the inferno don't melt But to all the impact is still felt.

Raging flames make raging hearts, For many ends double as starts.

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Awad Khalifa

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Payal Gandhi

Kristina Duong 19

AMANUENSIS

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Madhav Rana

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Untitled

By Bo Bonifanti Math is an enemy that I’ve had for a while, Exponents and graphs, are just not my style, What can I say, I’m an artsy folk, To say I like math, is just a joke.

Creating film is pretty cool, Claymation and art, is what I’d go to for school, But I also love the ocean, And all the treasures within, Who knows what I’ll see? Maybe a fin?

The classes taken in high school don’t define who you are, There are jobs out there that can take you so far, You don’t have to love math, English or science, You could end up in a kitchen or be a lawyer with clients.

In the end, what I’m trying to say, Is do it for the money. Get that pay!!

I’m just kidding, don’t listen to me, Good luck with your decision, because you can’t live for free.

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AMANUENSIS

The heart’s desire (Hanahaki,the ballad of the flower)

By Esme Mandile Roses have thorns but their petals smell so nice so when you see the flowers you often must think twice but when they grow inside and when they're in your throat you have to open wide cause your petals start to float you feel them in your lungs and then they start to burn your mouth begins to hurt and your stomach starts to churn your heart begins to race your face begins to flush your breathing picks up pace your head begins to rush you find you are in love there's nothing there to do except to suffocate for they don't love you too.

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Adele Gallagher

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Ally LeBeau

Life of a Highschooler

By Sydney Nortelus Wake up, Sleep, Repeat Everyday same thing.

10lb backpack.

Sports, stress, and tests.

Try your best, it´ll work out Books of knowledge, Everyone is just getting ready for college.

Nights of studying We learn from our mistakes.

We know what we did wasn’t okay.

Trying to grow up, with a 10lb backpack I’ll tell you how that worked out.

4 years. DONE Off to a new journey Here we come 23

AMANUENSIS Alyssa Murray

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John Horan

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Morgan Cronin

AMANUENSIS

“A Winter From the Future’s Eye”

By Ayati Biswas “In the year 2521, humanity has moved into space after the destruction of Planet 437, or Earth, as we know it. Dr. Adam Musk was one of the brilliant minds that made this shift possible. Three generations later, his grandson, Jonah, is on his way to meet his grandfather for the first time, where he anticipates learning about mysticals on Planet 437 from him.”

I was going to meet my great-great-great grandfather today. He was woken up from cryosleep every 15 years, so that he could meet his growing family. Today, it was my turn. I had heard legends about my grandfather, how he was one of the only people to make it into space alive.

He was responsible for bringing my entire bloodline into space. I had heard that he had helped colonize many planets, but it was hard to believe that people actually even lived on planets. Everyone I had ever known always lived on ships, flying around the cosmos for whatever they may need. But again, there was a time when even coming into space was a challenge, and all of mankind lived on one planet.

As a child, my mother would read to me the story of the destruction of Planet 437, or Earth, as they called it back then. Apparently, the leaders of Planet 437 had gotten into a huge disagreement over something small. They began fighting, and war broke out. Then, a place called the United States decided to use a nuclear bomb to take out their enemies. It intrigues me, how back then, nuclear energy could wipe out entire cities, but these days, every ship runs on the same form of energy. After they deployed their first bomb and blew their enemy’s city to pieces, other countries began to fight back, sending military power and even more nuclear bombs in the United States’ way. My grandfather was working for a company called SpaceX, which specialized in learning more about space. Out of fear something like this was

going to happen, he had been working on a top secret operation to save mankind from itself.

He had created a list of the most potentially influential children on Planet 437 at the time, and brought all of them into custody, a safe haven from what was happening outside those walls.

A ship had been constructed which would take my grandfather, the children, and a few other men and women up to the International Space Station, where they would continue their search to find other hospitable planets. Eventually, they did find planets capable of housing humans, and as the population began to grow again, humanity moved to living on ships in26

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stead of planets. Before my great-grandfather died, he was put into cryosleep to increase the longevity of his life as much as possible. And today, I was finally going to meet him.

I watched the stars race by as the ship thrust forward toward our destination. My grandfather was kept in the ISS museum, which used to be housing for astronauts back when Planet 437 was still our home. At last, the ship came to a halt, and I heard the port open at the bottom of the ship. I sprinted out of my room to the dock, where my mother awaited me with a warm smile.

“Ready, Jonah?” She asked. My heart was beating faster now, either from the sprint I just made, or the fact that I was several hundred feet away from my great ancestor. “Yes, Mom.” I held my mom’s hand and we made our way down the ramp and through the port, where, after our body scans, we were greeted by two men in guard suits.

“ID?” The taller man demanded. My mother held up her passcard, and with a nod from the guards, we made our way into the museum.

The air smelled like fresh linen, and my nose tingled with a strange, but welcoming sensation I could not place. The room had a high ceiling and was filled with many artifacts from the first expeditions out into space. There were large windows across the room which

let in the views of the rest of the museum, a large building attached to something much smaller in size, but monumental in its own right. The International Space Station.

The guards led us down a large, brightly-lit hallway, away from the rest of the crowd.

With each step, I could feel my heart rate increase, since I knew that I was getting closer and closer in proximity to the man who made living in space possible. My great-grandfather. Finally, the guards came to a stop in front of a titanium door. They performed a retina scan to the side of the door and it slowly unlocked. They let my mother and I step through slowly, and before I could process anything, a pair of arms wrapped around my body and embraced me tightly.

“Jonah, hello.”

“Grandfather. It’s so nice to finally meet you after all this time.”

“Oh look at you, you look exactly like your mother.” I let out a chuckle. “Thank you.” I replied, with a slight bow. His hand grazed my cheek.

“And skin as soft and fair as snow.” I heard my mother sigh behind me. I raised my hand to grasp his in my own as a puzzled look crept across my face. He must have seen it, because a low laugh escaped his lips. “Snow, Grandfather?”

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“Yes, snow. Come, sit with me, son, and I’ll tell you about snow.” We walked across the room to a small, tan, leather sofa. We both sat down, and he let out a sigh.

“Snow...snow. Ah, yes. Snow. According to the historical science textbooks you will learn from, snow was a form of precipitation on Planet 437. It would occur when the temperature was too cold for water to remain in its liquid form, but just warm enough for it to not convert completely to ice. But that is snow from the science perspective. In reality, snow was a wonder. It would fall from the sky in flurries, and lightly pepper itself over everything. Be-

fore long, the roads, pathways, and buildings would all be covered in a thin layer of the white powder. If you were to go outside and stand in the flurries, the snow would cover you too. It would tangle itself in your hair, sit lightly on your eyelashes, and tickle your nose.” He closed his eyes as if he were standing in the snow himself.

“After a little while, the layer of snow covering the surroundings would get thicker and thicker. Children would be given a day off from school because the roads would all be covered in snow and there was no way most of them would be able to make it!” He laughed Rhea Keefe wholeheartedly.

“The children would put on their boots, gloves, coats, and hats, and run out into their

yards to play in the snow. At this point, the snow would be hard enough to be compacted into balls, and all the kids would team up and have snowball fights.” His eyelids fluttered shut again, and he looked like he was back on one of these streets where these ‘snowball fights’ were actually happening. “Snowball fights, Grandfather?” His eyes shot back open and his smile turned into a large grin.

“Oh, yes, snowball fights. The kids would make balls of snow and use them as projectiles toward each other. It was all great fun. And afterwards, they would all go back into their homes and a large mug filled to the brim with a warm chocolatey drink called hot chocolate would be waiting for them on the kitchen table. After finishing every last sip, their mothers would tell them to go to their rooms and finish homework since they had school the next day. Those days...those days almost every child would go to sleep with a smile on their face. That’s just what snow did. It brought smiles and joy. Just as you did to me.” He stood up and his face fell.

“Thank you for meeting with me Jonah. I cannot thank you enough for the joy you have brought me today by letting me tell my stories. I will cherish this memory until the last days of my life. I really do hope to see you soon, son.” I brought myself up to my feet and 28

2021 held my grandfather in a lasting embrace. Then, looking over my shoulder, I stepped through the barrier and waved my goodbye. “Thank you, Grandfather. Thank you for the happiness you have brought me today and thank you for the stories.” And with that, the door shut and I was locked away from my ancestor. My mother came up behind me and grabbed my hand.

“So, how do you feel?” She inquired with a large smile. Truth be told, I felt the same way those children all those years ago felt, waking up to see everything covered in a blanket of white, running around, launching snowballs, then coming home to a drink called hot chocolate. Pure joy. “I feel happy.” I replied as we walked back the way we came. “I feel happy,

Mom.”

Brian Hamilton

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Artist’s Name

Payal Gandhi

Eloise Barriault

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Brendan Cook

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“Untitled”

By Peter Gianacopolis

He felt the cold sting as it washed up against him, the bitter brisk air pushing by and the barely protecting clothes he had on him as the buzz watched over him, the headache he had throbbing against his head as he pulled his face out of the dirt and began to dust himself off, feeling the aches and sores of what he did, what commenced as he softly bit his lip, squinting his eyes before he looked around in the middle of the forestry without them in sight. He paused, as if doubt or fear overcame him as he gazed around the landscape with a soft, audible groan. He whimpered

and whined to himself as he realized his loss. The community that he had built, the people had scavenged for it. And now, without him, as the bud of resentment penetrated through his skin before the tidal wave of frustration and anger slammed against his body without restraint. He felt the searing, burning rage of being abandoned without assistance, without a word to him of his misdeeds but instead, wordless demotion to the woods. His mental wounds started to appear as he slammed his foot against the roots of the tree, the roots of which he began. He wasn't the one who set the supports down but he sure as hell laid down the foundation. He had scavenged through the abandoned cities he once lived in

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without remorse, had carolled the people from being alone and grovelling to a safe haven he made. And it was all gone. He yearned and howled in animalistic savagery not out of regret for what he did, but what had happened to him. As he leaned against the the tree he had desecrated, his breathing shallow and sharp and his eyes filled with the lust for blood to

spill against the hallowed ground, he carved and let it fertilize what he commenced. And he spat out the disgusting liquid which entered his mouth onto the grass-covered dirt, dry and dying due to the lack of rain.

He pushed himself off, and despite his miserable state, pushed on for the greener pastures, to search for the home-range he had made.

Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi 33

AMANUENSIS

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Skylar Boilard

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The Narcissistic Bird

By Esme Mandile Birds have alter egos they shine in every way but some have only one and think they're the best display Some have love for others And they always let it shine but this not one named Narcy he takes up his own time He spends it all with mirrors singing to himself not knowing that the truth is It shatters glasses on the shelf He's a pretty little bird I'm not gonna lie but he's super narcissistic and it's quite obvious why He has a heavy voice but his brain is kinda light He believes he’s the best choice but he keeps you up all night I'd keep on writing about his songs but I don't know him well so I would just keep writing wrongs And that's my secret I wished to never tell 35

AMANUENSIS When First I Met You

By Anonymous I know what I’m saying sounds so rude But someone has to say the truth You don’t try to hurt me, But believe me, you have, repeatedly

When I first met you, I thought you'd be cool, But now everyday you treat me like a fool Why are you always bossing me around You always treat me like the ground

The way you view a friend isn’t right Always thinking, that we’re so “tight” You think that I love you as a friend, But I’m being nice to you, it’s all pretend

You step on me, mess me up, and don't even care It's like my feelings aren't even there Next thing I know, you’re telling me what to do Don't you know I have things to do too?

You’re insidious, without even trying And our friendship, is slowly dying Whenever “I’m busy” you can’t take a hint I don’t want to hang out, can’t seem to make an imprint

So stop it, do it yourself We are in school, not a hotel After all this, you call me your friend You think I'll say it back? No don’t pretend

I don’t ever want to hurt, your, or anyone’s feelings But you do, it’s not appealing I know you probably don’t mean to, But think before you speak, I thought you already knew

You call me your friend, and your soul mate Just so you know, that's a mistake ‘Cause on the outside you look like your awesome But you're the one who causes my problems You treat me like I'm your servant You wave your finger, like I deserve it Did you know that's considered rude?

That it's, a very bad thing to do?

I guess we weren’t made for each other, But there are other friends, find another Make sure they’re happy to be with you though Or else, he or she might also go

I am supposedly your friend, but you don't treat me like one When I hear your voice, I want to run The way you view a friend isn't good You aren't aware my feelings are misunderstood

Don’t think I’m rude for sticking up for myself I am helping myself, should everyone else You see how you made me write this?

How being my friend, was remiss

You always drive friends and family Apart As a friend, you’re not doing your part.

Well here's one thing that you're going to learn I'll tell you the truth, time to be stern

I had no trouble coming up with this song I could do this all night long So bye, pushy bully, I’ll see you later, but remember, I don’t hate you, I just don’t like your actions, I’m never a hater.

You drive everyone insane and mad When you're away, then we're glad No words can describe how I feel about you You stick to me like forever glue You don't ever leave me alone When I see you, I want to moan You can’t adapt to others How many people seem to bother you? Count the numbers.

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2021

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Carlie Cronin

AMANUENSIS

“Untitled”

By Alexis Efstratiou

A still bunny sleeps At home in the moss and brush The hawk is awake

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Alyssa McDonald

2021

Carter Grise

“Untitled”

By Daneevah Dorleans The soft and swift snow Sauntered as slow still Sitting, at my house A snow day, sucks, and sabotages my soul, because of how boring it is.

Snow thought it was doing me a favor Well it twas not, I miss the straights of the hallways Making me lost I miss school very much 39

AMANUENSIS “The Doll House”

By Owen Kwet Vailspo, North Dakota, 1990.

Cedric questioned, “So how did Aunt Luci pass?”

His mother replied, “We don’t know how; remember?”

“Oh yeah,” he recalled.

Her cause of death had yet to be revealed. No one ever knew her darkest secrets she kept hidden in her small cottage by the Downs River unless they were “close family.”

Aunt Luci had lived in Vailspo her whole life, rarely visiting the family in Bismarck, even though it was only 37 minutes away.

Whenever Aunt Luci did visit her demeanor was rather odd, like a robot. She very seldom spoke, and when she did, she muttered odd phrases that were uninterpretable.

When they got the news of her passing, no one was really upset, but a lot of people were still baffled. She was only 55.

Cedric and his mother arrived at the cottage and began observing their environment.

There weren’t any people around in her neighborhood, and little did they know why.

They opened the door to Aunt Luci’s former home and noticed the antiqueness of all the furniture, the broken down wallpaper that turned an ugly umber, and the tiles on the floor that were as grimy as fish mold.

The attic, however, was much more morbid. There were barely any photos showing her happiness or her love for the family. It was truly desolate.

But there was a large wooden crate filled with her dolls she had neglected to enjoy.

Every Christmas she would get a doll from her great aunt, who was even more negative than she was.

There was little information about these dolls, but they seemed rather….. lifelike, similar to that of real infants.

Cedric exclaimed, “Ewww! These dolls are so weird, they must be a hundred years old!”

“Well, they don’t look a hundred, but they look very strange,” said the mother.

“Yeah, dolls are stupid,” Cedric complained.

They were attempting to lift the crate but it wouldn’t budge. It was as if the dolls were made of rocks.

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2021

Then, something happened.

One of the dolls creepily blinked, and it was as if it came alive.

The mother and son thought they were just seeing things, due to the fact that the house and its surroundings were already off.

Then, another one, and another, and another.

They screeched like crows as they jumped out of the crate, scared the mother, and snatched Cedric like a little kid, since he was one, until….

The dolls chanted, and they were chanting the same phrases Luci did whenever she came to visit.

His soul, mind, body, everything about him changed.

His mother realized he was one of them now.

She became frozen in fear as she observed the doll that was once her loyal, kind, fun -loving son Cedric.

She collapsed to the floor and then she fell through the ceiling.

Dani Dillon

The dolls took her away and laid her body on the bed where Aunt Luci died in a gruesome betrayal of her Christmas presents.

When the mother awoke, she woke up and had no memory of her Cedric, but she was chanting the phrase of the dolls’ motives.

She chanted, “revenge, revenge, revenge.”

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AMANUENSIS

42

Paige McCaffrey

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Chloe Lyons