Amanuensis 2022

Amanuensis A literary publication of: Billerica Memorial High School 35 River Street Billerica, Massachusetts 01821 Volume 46 2022 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 Indo-European Roots.]

Amanuensis is published annually by students of Billerica Memorial High School.

Editorial Board

Advisors Jessica Camasso

Eloise Barriault Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi Lily Harutyunyan Mary Harutyunyan

David Ciccarelli

Special Thanks Catie Button

Isabela Lavoie

Sandra Davidson

Mackenzie Mao

Matt DeFeo

Yvette Morris

Brenda Fredericks

Ayaan Nowaz

Sarah Gaden

Sarah O’Connell

Brett Kelley

Saish Yennampelli

Kathryn Muse Vicki States

Cover Art Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi 3

Amanuensis

____

TABLE OF CONTENT ART

Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi…….….…….Mixed Media….……………………………………..…………….……...….Front Cover Kaitlyn Lambert*………………………….….…Acrylic ….……………………………………..…………….……………..………...…………6 Herin Lee………………………….……………….…Colored Pencil…….……………………..…………….……………..………...…………10 Jessica Zimmerman…………………………….Acrylic……………………………………………………………………………………………13 Nicki Deleidi………….…………………………….Ink & Marker…………………………………………………………………………………14 Tanmay Sonawane………………………………Photography…………………………..……………………………………………………..15 Katherine Medeiros………………………….…Ink & Marker….…….……………………………………………………………………….16 Catriel Conroy……………………………...….…Watercolor & Ink….……………………………………………………………………….19 Kayla Lavoie……………………………….…….…Mixed Media…………………………………………………………………………………..22 Tanmay Sonawane……………………….……..Photography……………………………………………………………..…………………...23 Ayaan Nowaz….…………………….……………..Photography………………………………………………………………..…………………25 James Cyrus…………………………….………….Ink & Marker………………………………………………………………………..………..26 Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi…….….…….Photography…….……………..………………………………………………………….….28 Chloe Hannon…………………………………….Digital Art……...………………………………………………………………………………..30 Adele Gallagher………………………………….Ink……………………………………………………………………………………………………34 Vanessa Padilla………………………..………..Watercolor & Ink……………………………………………………………………………34 Dani Lamonica……………………….…………..Watercolor & Ink……………………………………………………………………………34 Laila Pratt……………………………………………Ink & Marker……….……………………………………………………………….………..34 Tanmay Sonawane……………………….……..Photography……………………………………………………………..…………………...36 Amanda Johnson………………………….……..Digital Art….……………………………………….……………………..…………………...37 Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi…….….…….Photography….………………………………………………………..………………….….38 Tanmay Sonawane……………………….……..Photography……………………………………………………………..…………………...40 Carlie Cronin……………………………….……….Charcoal…………………………………………………………………………………………43 Kayla Lavoie………………………….….…………Colored Pencil…………………………………………………………………………….….43 Madison Torpey…………………………………..Photography…………………………………………………………………………………..44 Alexis Govertsen…..….…….…………………..Ink…………………….………………………………………………………………………….….44 Taylor Honnellio……………………..…………..Colored Pencil……………………………………..…………………………………………47 Tanmay Sonawane……………………….……..Photography……………………………………………………………..…………………...49 *denotes contest winner 4

___________________________________________________________________________2022

TABLE OF CONTENT WRITING (untitled)*………………………………………….…..…………Carter Grise………………………………………………………….……...….7 The Way Cookies Crumble………………………………Harrison Tucker………………………………………………….……...…..8 In Over My Head………………………………………………Alexis Efstratiou…………………………………………………….……….11 Nightmare…………………………………………………………Amanda Gray………………………………………………………………....16 Untitled…………………………………………………………….Anish Srinivasan……………………………………………..………………17 Thoughts…………………………………………………..………Carter Grise………………………………..…………………………………..28 A Few More Years……………………………………………Alyssa Macdonald…………………………………………………………..29 The Last Cookie………………………………………………Joshua Senoga…………………………………………….……………………31 Untitled……………………………………………………………Ashley Jacobo…………..………………………………………………………35 Cricket ……………………………………………………………Jayam Patel………………………………………………………………………36 Her Brown of black Skin……………………….………Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi……………………………..…….………38 Perspectives……………………………………………………Jizaiah Candelario……………………………………………………………39 Cerulean…………………………………………………………Gabriella Santa Cruz…………………………………………………………41

*denotes contest winner

5

Amanuensis

____

Kaitlyn Lambert

6

___________________________________________________________________________2022

(untitled)

By Carter Grise *Winter Contest Winner

A pendulum of rime, gracing the night Enveloping all with its freezing blight As the sun continues its rise, A brightness begins to arise From reflections off an icy sheen The windows sparkle, glimmer, and gleam Risen from the candle; a wisp of smoke Extinguished by the icy cloak Of frost encroaching on Autumn fields Here to choke The last of their yields

7

Amanuensis

____ The Way Cookies Crumble

By Harrison Tucker

I woke up for school and ate a small breakfast consisting of a banana and a protein shake. I rushed to school hoping I wouldn't be late. I managed to make it on time. About half way through the day I started to get hungry due to having a small breakfast. Luckily, lunch was soon. The bell rang and I went to lunch. They only allowed one lunch so I had to rely on one slice of pizza to satisfy me until I got home. I got hungry again after school so I planned to go to the store and buy some food once I got out of practice. After a long day at school and practice I went to the store and bought a box of Chips Ahoy cookies. I planned on eating some after dinner. I finished a delicious steak dinner, cleaned my plate, and grabbed my cookies from the cabinet. I ate half, wrote my name on the box with a red marker, then put them back. The next morning I woke up early to make a big breakfast. To my surprise, I found my box of cookies empty on the counter sitting next to a cup of milk. Breakfast could wait, I had to find out who ate my cookies. My dad's room was the closest, making him suspect number one. I walked down the hall to his room. I asked my dad “Did you eat my cookies?”

He said “No, I don't eat that stuff very often so I just bought myself a pint of ice cream since I haven’t had anything like that in a while.”

“Did you see anything involving my cookies last night?” I asked.

“I had some ice cream last night around 10:25, then went to bed. I saw nothing involving your cookies,” he said. His reasoning made sense regarding the fact that he is always trying new ways to stay in shape. He has always been a big believer going to bed no later than 10:30.

He always talks about how a goodnight sleep benefits you. If it wasn’t him then he must have missed the culprit in action.

I went back to the scene of the crime to analyze for clues. I remembered that me, my younger brother, and my younger sister all drink different kinds of milk. I drink protein milk, my brother drinks lactose free milk, and my sister drinks 1% milk. I instantly went for the cup on the counter. I took a small sip and realized it was lactose free milk. The spotlight was now on my brother, James, the only lactose intolerant in the house. I marched into his room and asked “Did you eat my cookies?”

“I didn't eat your cookies. I don't leave messes like that,” he claimed.

“If you say so.” I replied. Meanwhile, a plate and a napkin laid next to his bed. I had never mentioned the mess of crumbs when asking him. How would he have known it was a mess? Being a messy person in general, it seemed like his words contradicted his actions on multiple occasions. I had my eye on my brother as suspect number one. But now it was onto my sister, Greta. She was known for leaving messes throughout the house whether it was trash or crumbs. I went up and asked her what happened to my cookies. She wouldn't give me a straight answer.

All she said was "I don't know. Figure it out." The door to her room then slammed in

8

___________________________________________________________________________2022 my face. “Typical 14 year olds,” I mumbled under my breath. Luckily I had looked at her white carpet by her bed before she shut the door. I clearly saw what looked like crumbs on her carpet. I decided to take her advice. I planned on figuring it out. This encounter with her put my father at the bottom of the list. It's his house. Why would he leave a mess? He wouldn't lie to me either. I still, however, refused to count him out.

I always put my name on my food that I didn’t want anyone to touch. I went back to the counter where the cookies were. Along the top of the package was a line of red smudge. “I knew I didn’t forget my name,” I said to myself. I was getting closer to figuring out who did it. I figured, since my dad claimed he didn't see any cookies or mess when he was up eating his ice cream, the cookies had to have been eaten after he went to bed. Leaving only James and Greta as notable suspects. By the time he would have gone to bed, all bedtime routines would have been complete.

That meant no one would have showered or washed their hands after he was asleep. Since I wrote my name on the box with a red marker, whoever whipped the name off may have gone to bed with a red finger. I went straight to Greta’s room.

She opened the door and said “What?”

“Where were you last night after dad went to bed?” I asked.

“In my room, where else?” she replied.

“You left some crumbs on your carpet. What are they from?” I asked. She pulled out a half eaten box of crackers from her drawer. Without hesitating, I walked into her room and over to the carpet. I inspected the crumbs but they didn’t match my cookies. “Ok then, flip your hands and show me your fingers,” I ordered. There was nothing on her fingers that resembled a red marker.

“Get out!” she yelled. I got what I needed and went to my brother's room as the door slammed behind me. I made it to James's room where I asked him the same questions. “Where were you last night when dad went to bed?” I asked.

“Doesn’t matter dude,” he replied.

“Let me see your hands,” I ordered. He flipped his hands to reveal that there was nothing on his fingers either. I was confused. “Nevermind,” I said. As I turned away I noticed he still hadn't cleaned the mess on his side table, including the plate. On the edge of the plate was a barely visible red fingerprint. “He must have noticed the red marker on his finger and washed it off before I could get to him,” I thought to myself, but now I had him. “So what’s this red smudge on your plate?” I asked.

“No name equals free game bro,” he replied.

“I put my name on the box, you clearly saw it,” I said.

“Well once I whipped your name off there was no name on the box,” James replied.

“I knew it was you. You’re paying me five bucks,” I said.

“Whatever, it's only five dollars,” he said. The next morning I went to the corner store and bought a whole new box of cookies. This time I wrote my name on it and hid it in my room. If food is at stake, I intend on discovering the truth.

9

Amanuensis

____

Herin Lee

10

___________________________________________________________________________2022

In Over My Head

By Alexis Efstratiou

Having had a ghastly cough for weeks, the kind that pricks the back of your throat and leaves a roaring ache in your chest, it was nice to finally be able to nap comfortably again. I still felt under the weather, but the cough had faded to a near tickle, dull enough to where my eyes closed and I slept heavily.

And oh- how warm I was! I’d known that spring was fading into summer, but I must have been so out of it from my bout of illness that I hadn’t noticed the change in temperature. The air was lovely and mild, surrounding me with warmth I had begun to think impossible from my drafty bedroom.

Perhaps the handyman had finally slipped in to fix the broken window while I was asleep, not wanting to wake me. Afterall, the key had been under the mat just as it usually was, and he’d know it’d be no trouble.

Now that I had considered the temperature for a few moments, I noticed that it was just a touch stuffy. No matter though, the seasons were changing after all, and nothing was too uncomfortable for me to open my eyes and do anything about. I felt so very relaxed, my cocoon of pillows surrounding me was practically heaven! And for once I’d actually managed to fall asleep on my back, which was such a rarity. My chiropractor would be pleased, as she constantly reprimanded me for my usual sleeping method- all jumbled up into a giant human knot. “The stress that position creates on your body could take years from your life”, she’d tisk tisk, but always with a smile. I’d make sure to fill her in on this breakthrough at my next appointment.

The urge to flip over to my right side was overwhelming, but the cushions were positioned just right to where they perfectly surrounded me, and one of my blankets was laid just so and tucked neatly under my toes. I’d never be able to find as comfortable of a position if I moved now. And perhaps for the first time, the house was blissfully quiet. No obnoxious hum of the radiator, or the sound of water gushing through the pipes. Only thick and comfortable silence. Peaceful rest.

Something tickled my cheek. My eyes bolted open and my hands jerked out from beneath the blankets, leaving my side to smack at my face. I’d have to call the exterminator when I got up- I had just paid them a king’s ransom two weeks ago to spray for all sorts of insects, so how was one in my bedroom? I would definitely be asking for a discount. My eyes adjusted to the light. Rather, the lack of

11

Amanuensis

____

it. I could barely see my own hand held out in front of me, in fact, I couldn’t see it at all. But, I could feel. The sensation of two to three inches of grotesque little legs, all marching frantically in a single column across my wrist, sent a chill down my spine. I tried shaking the revolting creature off, but it clung to my skin, glued there most unnaturally. It truly seemed stuck to me, and my efforts to get it off without having to touch it further were in vain.

Gingerly, I reached for my own wrist, swallowing the bile that rose up in the back of my throat as my fingers made contact with a hard shell. Not wanting a death to be the result of my nap, I threw it gently to my side, where it would surely fall off of the bed and bother me no further. But why had it stuck to me so intently? Reaching down, I realized there was something cool and damp covering my hand and wrist, the same area which had touched my face as I slapped at the centipede. I ran a thumb across it, and the substance seemed to transfer from my wrist onto the finger with ease, but was thick and tacky like paste. While I had been known to partake in a lavish skin care routine, I certainly had not felt well enough in the last few weeks to moisturize and apply my many creams and tinctures as I usually did, so this moisture was inexplicable. Though the temperature was rising in my bedroom by the minute, the heat of my breath seeming to act like a furnace, it couldn’t be sweat. No, the substance felt rather more like...Paint? But that was impossible.

Blinking frantically, I wished that it were day so my eyes would adjust and make sense of just what was on my hand. As my eyelashes flapped with each blink, I noticed they felt heavy, and prickly. Rather than kissing the very tops of my cheeks like they normally did, each tap as they closed felt brittle and dry. Reaching up to touch my eye, my fingers came away with a sort of crumbling residue on their tips. My lips parted in confusion, and I realized that they too felt slick with a mysterious coating. What was all over my face?!

Before I even had time to process, I heard the faintest click clack of tiny legs by my ear.

How had this ghastly bug climbed all the way back to me? Surely I had thrown it far enough off the bed to where it should have taken much longer to My hand hit a wall. It had been groping to find the edge of my bed in the dark, to see if I really had thrown the bug far enough, but it hit a wall. Not a figurative wall, but one that felt cushioned and soft for an inch or so, with sturdy backing beneath. That simply couldn’t be, I had moved my bed from against the wall months ago. Now, only my headboard should be against the wall, and it was made of wood.

12

___________________________________________________________________________2022 In the space behind my head, my hand met that same inch of plush before settling against something firm and cool, like metal. Ok, I could no longer excuse what was happening. My heart was racing, and I would simply have to wake up and sort whatever this was out to gain any sense of calm again. Swiftly, I reached up to yank the cord of my reading light.

My fingers crunched as they bent backwards, and I yowled in pain as the force of my sudden motion collided with the strength of steel. Above me, there was a barrier. There was no reading lamp, or dated popcorn ceiling eight feet up, but a barrier, solid and thick. I was surrounded on all sides, locked in, like snow white in her glass cof— Oh my God. Oh my GOD. The air around me was suddenly boiling hot, oppressive and suffocating, and it seemed to burrow down into my lungs as I lay there gasping, trying to take in enough breath to scream. The sound of my screams, piercing and terrible and agony filled, ricocheted back at me. The perfect steel echo chamber. No one would be able to hear me. But- I could hear them. My ears pricked up as I heard the muffled sound of feet overhead.

“May he rest in peace” I was truly in over my head.

Jessica Zimmerman

13

Amanuensis

____

Nicki Deleidi

14

___________________________________________________________________________2022

Tanmay Sonawane

Tanmay Sonawane

Tanmay Sonawane

15

Amanuensis

____

Nightmare

By Amanda Gray Fell asleep, the night is bleak When have we fell Fell before you speak Or is it an Act You Act asleep Act so they won't attack Fear is the actor Who is the Act hiding in the black The black of the night The color of the darkness Color is the gate, that's right To leave the darkness We must see the color of light

Katherine Medeiros

The earth must not be heartless The color of the bright skies We have awoken No more screaming No more cries

16

___________________________________________________________________________2022 Untitled

By Anish Srinivasan It was majestic. A colorful rainbow overlooked the snowy white mountain range. Below, the dew shone on the bright green grass, and colorful wildflowers stood tall. The blue birds chirped in harmony above the apple tree, and purple butterflies frolicked along the marigolds. To the right, a stream of crystal clear water flowed ever so peacefully as young fawns danced along the river bank. The wind blew ever so slightly, causing a wooden wind chime hanging underneath an oak tree to play a soothing ring. I sat on the rocking chair right outside of the wooden cabin with a tall glass of ice-cold lemonade, soaking everything in. It was truly paradise.

I took off my goggles, and as my eyes adjusted and the lingering bright light slowly vanished, I was met with just the opposite outside the window. Dark. Cloudy. Smoky. There were no animals anywhere to be found and running water was virtually nonexistent. The slight roar of the machines chopping down trees echoed in the distance. My shoulders shrunk and a wave of utter sadness washed over me.

I needed an escape. The VR games I created in my free time would only give me some satisfaction temporarily, but soon after the experience ended it was back to the real world. I was currently living in my grandfather’s old cabin in the woods. Even though I lived by myself, the Feed made it practically impossible to be completely alone; all we had to do was hop online and talk to people that way rather than face-to-face. Most people started moving into luxurious tiny homes because of how overpopulated the world was, but luckily, I was able to keep a piece of the world that hasn’t changed with the times. It was a piece of the old world and the last thing I had left of my grandfather’s. It was my safe space.

All of this thinking was quite exhausting, so I decided to go to bed. Sleep was one of the only things that I looked forward to in this messed-up world. I belly-flopped onto the bed, turned the virtual fireplace on, and buried myself underneath the warm, heavy covers as I hugged a ragged pillow. Though my mind was still racing, slowly but surely, time began to slow down, and I began drifting down into another world.

A dark void sucked me in, leaving nothing except a lifeless body. It was just me and my thoughts…

It wasn’t too long ago when my grandfather told stories about what the world used to look like. It was just like the VR game I created. There were waterfalls, rainforests, deserts, and mountains. Lakes and valleys, pungent flowers, and swift hummingbirds. Children would play simple outdoor games and even create their own worlds in their heads. My grandfather and his friends used to call it “make-believe.”

People would go outside to take hikes up mountains, fish by rivers, and invite people over to seasonal outdoor activities. It was wild! It was just like the historical fiction books he would read to me when I was younger.

17

Amanuensis

____

But all of that started to change. The people at the time called it “climate change,” but now, it was just our climate. It was normal and what we were used to. We couldn’t imagine a world before it.

Anyways, the air started to reek, many animal species slowly died out, and the polar ice caps began to melt. Wildfires started becoming far too common, and coastal cities started flooding. Politicians kept arguing about what to do, and eventually, the government’s reluctance caused severe damage to the earth. The world as we knew it began to fall apart. Luckily, the top scientists said that the damage we have caused could still be reversed, but people’s habits continued to get the best of them. Nothing was being done to save the earth, our only home. As Grandpa Colin would tell me these stories, his voice would always break and reach a somber tone, especially when he arrived at this part of the story. I never understood why until after his death when I decided to do my own research. Books, articles, you name it.

I was determined to bring the world back to its previous state, but simultaneously, it seemed impossible.

Now, we only have stories to hear and our own imagination of what life was like before. Sadly, humans were causing their own future downfall and extinction. ✵✵✵ I woke up the following day on the floor. I didn’t get much sleep last night and the nightmares wouldn’t stop. I must’ve fallen during one of them. Groggily, I forced myself out of the dark bedroom and downstairs to the kitchen island. The light from the open windows brought a smile to my face, but the smog polluting the air coming from the distant cities slowly dampened it. As far as I was concerned, I couldn’t do anything about the climate, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from dwelling on the topic. The government was too greedy and solely focused on what gave them an advantage financially. Though using green technology would be a short-term sacrifice, the government refused to make such sacrifices that hurt the economy, despite the countless long-term gains. And this notion spread to the people. “What’s the point of buying solar panels or an electric car when everyone else is driving gas-guzzling pickup trucks and SUVs,” they would say. It was a constant positive feedback loop to no end. A never-ending chain reaction. A social trap. Though there were many people who have died trying to stop climate change, they never outweighed the majority who wanted to put an end to climate change but gave up, believing that they had no chance against the all-powerful government. And as of now, I fell under this group. Even though there was a glimmer of hope since temperatures were not high enough to be inhabitable, I simply couldn’t see the trend ever changing.

Sluggishly, I threw on the bathrobe I carelessly left behind on the island last night. I slung open the refrigerator, rummaged through, and took out the last energy drink I had left. Man, I really have to

stop drinking these things.

18

___________________________________________________________________________2022

Catriel Conroy

19

Amanuensis

____

I sat down, swirled around on the kitchen stool, and threw on my goggles that I had left in my pocket from the previous night. Good thing I designed it to contract to the size of a paperclip for maximum

durability, my inner engineer boasted. I hopped on the Feed to see today’s news debrief. Stocks, the latest VR and AR tech, crypto… the usual. Suddenly, I ran across something that caught my eye. It was a news story about a large group of people who fought against the government’s negligence against climate change. I had heard about them before, but this was their first appearance on the news in months.

Instantly, I was intrigued. Over the years, they never developed a distinct name, so most people jokingly

referred to them as the No-Names. Just yesterday, it appears as though there was a protest in Washington, D.C., but it was quickly shut down by armored government vehicles armed with tear gas. As usual, the government failed to even address it after. They aimed to suppress any form of rebellion, regardless of how minuscule it may seem. As I continued to read further, something drew my attention: “Unconfirmed reports of protesters being abducted at D.C. protest circulated in various chat forums.” Phoooooo! I accidentally spit out the remaining energy drink I had left in my mouth.

The line from the news story lingered in my head and a dark cloud of anxiousness began to emerge. What? No way! Abductions? It’s probably just some idiot spreading lies for likes.

I tried to ignore the idea of someone kidnapping innocent protesters and I continued scrolling through other news stories. But the mere thought of someone doing such a terrible thing shocked me.

After all, there was nobody against the Cause except for the government. Alex, it was probably just

someone joking around, I reasoned in my head. Nothing to worry about. Just someone joking around.

I swiped past the Feed to my text messages. Suddenly, my heart sank. My friend Aiden texted me last night, and apparently, he was at last night’s protests: Dude im at the dc protests.

And i saw 2 people get pulled into these super sketchy vans.

Dude i got out just fine and im at a gas station rn.

My service isnt good but the rumors are true.

Alex r u there????

Wow, I thought. What are the chances! Good thing Aiden was safe, but the rumors must be true!

Aiden actually witnessed an abduction! I didn’t know what to say.

I sat there flabbergasted for what felt like an hour, and my mind drifted to my grandfather. Would

he want me to ignore this? Or would he want me to take action? I knew the answer in my heart, but at the same time, I didn’t want to admit it to myself. What was the point of involving myself in trouble? The

planet was doomed anyway, so what was the point? But regardless, I knew that I had to do the right thing.

It’s what my Grandpa Colin would have wanted. I had to get to the bottom of this.

20

___________________________________________________________________________2022 ✵✵✵ 1 Month Later ✵✵✵ Aiden and I decided to attend the next protest. It was happening tonight in Boston, and we told each other weeks before that we would stick together no matter what. We couldn’t risk one of us getting abducted, even though there was a low chance it would happen anyways. Despite how terrified I was, I had a sense of exhilaration at the same time. Normally, I would conduct missions and rescues on VR games, but this was different. This was real life.

The day before, I played the VR game inspired by my grandfather to ease my tension. Over the past month, I worked out all the bugs in the code and implemented spatial recognition. I wanted to tell myself that I worked so hard on this game because I loved making them, but truly, it reminded me of what I was fighting for. Even if the planet wasn’t going to be saved, I want to die knowing that I did the best I possibly could and that I didn’t comply with the norm.

Throughout the day, I started to pack my backpack for the protest. Phone, energy drinks, hoodie,

and, oh, can’t forget my goggles.

✵✵✵ Eventually, the time came for the protest. I bought e-tickets for a train heading to Boston two days prior, and I decided to walk to the train station to get the blood moving. I reached the train in the nick of time, and I found myself a seat towards the back. On the way there, I texted Aiden to confirm our meeting spot. At last, we decided that we would meet at the protest directly right beside city hall. You couldn’t miss it.

Finally, the train reached its destination and I ran out to meet Aiden two blocks away. When I arrived at the main sector of the city, the protest was already in full effect. I looked around for Aiden, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. The darkness outside the city hall was only illuminated by street lamps, and it was hard to make out individual faces. As I worked my way through the dense crowd, I caught a glimpse of the classic oversized, rectangular eyeglasses. That’s Aiden! He was facing the opposite direction and hadn’t seen me yet. I began to work my way through the thick crowd, and just as I was about to tap his shoulder to get his attention, a large figure in a black vest bumped into me, knocking me down. As I got up, more protesters emerged out of nowhere, and the gap between Aiden and me widened.

“Aiden! Aiden, it’s me!” I cried.

But the crowd was too loud, and even though I could see Aiden, he was looking in the opposite direction for me. This is hopeless, I thought.

Before I knew it, the protest began to heat up further, and chants started breaking out.

“What about the animals! What about our children! What about our lives!” the crowd chanted in unison.

21

Amanuensis

____

The chanting was motivating me, cheering me on. I worked through the crowd looking for Aiden once again. C’mon, where is he?

As I surveyed the crowd, a lingering scent of something I couldn’t place my finger on began to spread. It smells kind of like vinegar, I inferred. Slowly, I started feeling lightheaded and nauseous. As I maneuvered my way out of the crowd to try and find a restroom, I felt a tiny prick on my right shoulder.

Everything went black. ✵✵✵ I woke up on the street beside my cabin the following day. Immediately, my mind went to last night’s protest. What just happened? Where’s Aiden? Is he alright?

My body was aching, and I forced myself up. Surprisingly, all of my belongings were intact. I ran through the list again in my head to be sure of it. Backpack, phone, energy drinks, hoodie, goggles.

Everything was there, exactly where I had left them last night. I pulled out my phone to text Aiden. As I turned it on, it didn’t ask me for my password. Weird, I thought. And that’s when I realized that someone had wiped my phone. My home screen returned to its out-of-the-box form, and all of my text messages were completely gone. Erased. Uh-oh.

Kayla Lavoie

22

___________________________________________________________________________2022

Tanmay Sonawane

Sluggishly, I walked back into the cabin. I constantly checked my surroundings. Was I being watched?

Was someone following me? I entered my handprint into the lock and the front door opened. As I made my way inside, I double-checked that I locked the door completely. Slowly, I tiptoed through the cabin, making sure that nobody was inside.

After pacing throughout the cabin many times, I was assured that nobody was watching me. I closed the blinds just to be sure. My mind was racing and I needed to calm down before I started making any speculations. It’s not like I was kidnapped two hours ago or something, I thought sarcastically. My mind went to the VR game I had created. Why don’t I play for a bit, I persuaded myself. I made my way to the living room. As I took the goggles out of my pocket, decompressed them, and put them on, I was met with the classic hum of a wind chime, and the screen was already opened to the VR game. Damn it, I forgot to exit the

game last time. Now my memory is going to be filled up.

As I closed the game and went into my settings to clear the memory, an idea clicked. When I reprogrammed the game not too long ago, I added spatial recognition, and it stores this information in the memory. If I were to take the memory from last night and convert it to a recording file, I could see what happened to me! Instantly, I went to work. Typing away, I managed to convert the memory into a recording in record time. There were some hiccups along the way and it definitely wasn’t my best work, but it should suffice. I stared in front of the recording I had just created. Watching this recording would change my life forever. I was too far in, and there was no turning back. It’s now or never. I hit the play button: I woke up last night in a dark black room.

23

Amanuensis

____

The video showed the surroundings in black and white, and the video was grainy from my messy job converting the file. But it will do for now. It has to.

Instinctively, I tried getting up, only to realize that my hands were in handcuffs to a metal bar attached to the table and I was in a cold metal chair. I began jerking around until I was cut off by a figure in a black mask who entered the room. The figure interrogated me for hours but to no avail. It appears as though they were searching for the leader of the No-Names, and when they realized that it wasn’t me, they released me, under the circumstance that I wouldn’t speak to anyone about this encounter. That’s when everything went dark again. But at the last second of the recording, I caught a glimpse of something shiny on the figure’s coat. I rewound the video once again and stopped the recording at the very last second. Holy

crap! I saw it. The figure had a shiny, circular government seal on their right shoulder. It was crystal clear that this must have been a covert government operation.

If I were to unveil this to the world. It would spark mayhem. The people would finally have concrete evidence that the government was corrupt and was working to put an end to the climate rebellions. This would unite the people, and we would have no choice but to overtake the government and fix the environment. It’s what everyone wanted. It was a long shot, and it was likely that I would get caught. But the memories of my grandfather telling stories of better times stuck with me. I had to release it, even if it meant sacrificing my freedom. I had previously created anonymous social media accounts on the goggles, and all I had to do was press “Post to All Anonymous Social Media Profiles” underneath the recording file.

The button was right there. It seemed too easy. It was too good to be true! I stared at it for a while. I went this far, and there was no turning back. Here goes nothing! My finger hit the button… ✵✵✵ After only several hours, the recording went mainstream. The government took the post down, but copies and recordings of the post spread like wildfire. The damage was done. The government was finally unveiled to be corrupt. The people finally had solid evidence. The course of the world was about to change… ✵✵✵ 20 Years Later ✵✵✵ Hey. It’s me again. I forgot to update this journal, but let me tell you, time flew by. Just five years after I posted the recording, governments around the world drastically changed. Exposed for their corruptness, the people slowly but surely eradicated all of the corrupt government officials and politicians.

Rallies were held, and the people only voted for new, previously unheard-of politicians who stood strongly against climate change, despite the countless threats previous politicians threw our way. There were setbacks, the government aimed to weaken us, and at times, it seemed as though no progress was being made. But the people had strength in numbers. We were not only united for the Cause, but nearly everyone stepped up against climate change. People stopped fearing the government and suppressing their beliefs.

24

___________________________________________________________________________2022

Ayaan Nowaz

Ayaan Nowaz

25

Amanuensis

____

For once, nearly everyone on the planet fought to change the world for the better. It was magical. It was the first time in the history of mankind that we set our differences aside and worked together towards a worthy goal. It truly was a beautifully orchestrated symphony.

Gradually, visible improvements in the environment emerged. Tons of work still needed to be done, but finally, for once, we were on the right track.

Chat forums and social media platforms praised the creator of the recording that changed the world. Programmers around the world reconstructed the recording piece by piece, added color, and boosted the video’s quality. Still, the world had no idea who was behind the video, and I hoped to keep it that way. The people were finally one. Why would I risk losing that to make myself look better? ✵✵✵

James Cyrus

26

___________________________________________________________________________2022 One day, not too long after, I woke up feeling fresh. It was Day 1217 nightmare-free. I slept like a baby the previous night.

I still lived in my cabin. It was all I needed. It was humbling. I made my way downstairs and whipped up a cup of tea. I had finally given up on energy drinks. In my bathrobe, I walked over to the deck to catch some fresh air. Yes, you heard that right, fresh air. It was a beautiful day; birds were singing and bees were buzzing in the air. As I sat down on the rocking chair, my eyes shifted towards the more condensed part of the woods, and for the first time in nearly 40 years, I saw a fawn with its mother nibbling on grass. I was about to shriek in excitement, but I immediately shut my mouth with my two hands to avoid scaring the deer. It was stunning, far more beautiful than the VR game I created ever was.

I sat down, soaked in the sun, and played the game. For real this time. It brought a tear to my eye. It was the happiest I’ve ever been.

I sat down in that exact position for the remainder of the day. It felt wrong to leave that spot. As night fell and I began to shiver, I made my way back to the living room. My goggles were resting on the coffee table, and I decided to put them on.

Instinctively, I scrolled through until I found my VR game. It was then that I realized that I had never actually named it. I was always working towards improving the game itself, and I completely ignored the fact that the title of the game was left as “Untitled.” I pressed the title and description section of the code and tried coming up with something interesting. Nature? Nah, too boring. Paradise? Nah, too

basic. I ran down the list of possible names in my head, but nothing seemed to fit. Out of nowhere, it struck me.

Even though most people who watched the famous game recording would say that this game started the entire revolution, if you think about it, it really wasn’t the game. Looking back, it was really the No-Names who started the revolution. In times of hopelessness, they were the ones who stayed strong and fought for what they believed in, regardless of the odds stacked against them. They didn’t even have a name, but they made sure everyone knew what they stood for. They persevered when it was tough.

They stayed resilient. And in a way, they represented all of mankind. They were the true heroes, and they deserved to be rightfully honored. Proudly, I exited the title and description section of the game’s code.

My face gleamed with pure excitement. Finally, after countless years, I had completed the game. My work here was done. I was finally satisfied. With a beaming smile on my face, I read the game’s name out loud: “Untitled.”

27

Amanuensis

____

Thoughts By Carter Grise

I cannot sing I hate to speak and when I write It's bland and bleak I cannot draw I cannot sign There is no art to be called mine

Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi

28

___________________________________________________________________________2022

A Few More Years

By Alyssa Macdonald

The playground is a palace, naive tendence Blind to reality, little Independence Running around planning harmless schemes, Waiting for my teenage dream Just a few more years Days are identical, routines begin to bloom Coffee is a savior, desire to sleep until noon Endless responsibility, childish dreams backfire Creases in the face stay in place, longing to retire Just a few more years White overtakes every single strand Kitten fur is met with a trembling hand Movements are rigid like a bread knife What will I be in the next life Only a few more years

29

Amanuensis

____

Chloe Hannon

30

___________________________________________________________________________2022 The Last Cookie

By Joshua Senoga Every once in a while my Aunt would bring us her homemade cookies. They were so good because she was a professional baker and even had her own online business. The whole family was excited about her homemade cookies. Since we were family we would get the cookies for free and we got the best deals on some of her other cookies too. Since my Aunt did not live in Massachusetts anymore her cookies were extremely rare for us. Once we got our hands on those cookies they would barely last a week. My Dad was always the first one to know about the cookies before any of us. If he really wanted to he could hide the cookies from us and no one would ever know.

The cookies were always a surprise for us since she would send them to us at random times. I feel like that element of surprise really amplified the taste and quality of the cookies.

I always wished she had lived closer to us so we could get cookies any day we want. My Aunt moved all the way to California for business reasons. She felt she had a better opportunity to grow her business and meet people who could help her. These things happened and she is very well known in her area and her business is doing great. That just shows that her cookies are no joke.

When the cookies arrive at the house our dad calls everyone and sits the box of cookies on the table. He puts everyone's cookies in a ziplock bag and they come to get a bag and go back to their rooms. There is usually a count of 20 cookies in the box. Everyone is usually given 4 cookies except for my Dad. He says he’s trying to watch his “diet” but I always see him trying to sneak in some cookies for himself. My little brother Joel and I usually finish our cookies within the first week. Don’t be mistaken though, these are some pretty big cookies. Our Aunt makes them pretty big cause she knows how much we love her cookies. These cookies are roughly the size of your hand and pretty thick in size too. For the average person, it would take them 2 weeks before they finish 4 cookies but my family isn’t average. Joel runs through his cookies within the first two days depending on how hungry he is feeling. Joel is a pretty big eater as well. He already has a dad bod at 15. He’s not the most active person but he loves to be deceitful and lie. He’s a very big attention seeker and would go to the earth’s core to get some attention. My other little brother JD is sort of the opposite and likes to keep to himself. JD is a big chubby kid and he just likes to play his games in his room all day long.

31

Amanuensis

____

JD likes to save his cookies and he will never really touch his cookies. Most of the time my Dad is usually trying to convince JD about giving him some extra cookies. I usually hide my cookies from everyone cause Joel always forgets the number of cookies he gets. So he tries to complain to my Dad about it. He usually fails because my Dad doesn’t really care enough about it. Joel has a burning love for these cookies and he always tries to steal someone else’s cookies.

Mainly JD’s cookies, everyone in the house knows JD is the last person to eat his cookies. So he is an easy target. JD stands his ground and when he does he likes to laugh in their face knowing that they don’t have any more cookies. He’s pretty evil at times.

I woke up the next day and remembered that I saw a cookie in the box last night before I went to bed. It was around 11:00 am when I got out of bed. I looked in the box and there was no cookie there. I went to JD’s room and I saw him eating a cookie in his bed. I asked him if that was the last cookie and he said “yes”. I knew he was lying because he always eats his cookies last. Then I went to Joel’s room and I saw a ziplock bag with cookie crumbs on it. Joel wasn’t in his room at the time. In fact, he wasn’t at home at all. I look for my Dad and ask him if he ate the last cookie and he then says “I didn’t see any cookies”. Now I’m curious about who could’ve eaten the last cookie. I thought I was up early and I also thought I was the only one who knew. Turns out someone else in the house got to it first and I'm gonna find out who.

It was a Saturday morning and my dad usually comes back home from work every Friday night. Joel stayed home the whole day on Friday and didn’t do anything but eat, sleep and repeat. He’s always upstairs looking for some food. JD also stayed home on Friday and he had some friends over. He might’ve given his friends some of his cookies and the last cookie as well. The main problem is when the cookie was taken. Was it taken this morning? Or last night?

I continue to investigate and interrogate my family. If Joel was the suspect he would’ve taken the whole box with him downstairs but I didn’t see any box in his room. The box was still on the table the way my dad left it when we first got the cookies. I went to JD and asked him what time he woke up this morning and he said 10 am. He woke up one hour before me but he claims that he didn’t see any cookies when he woke up. Joel said he woke up in the middle of the night around 2 am because he was hungry. Very typical of him to be so hungry during the night. I then asked my dad what time he came home from work. He says he came home at midnight and was so tired he just went to bed. Sounds like something my dad would do but at the same time, he must've been hungry. I asked if he ate anything when he came back and he said he had some juice and bread. What a weird combo. I had my eye on only two people so far and that was Joel and my dad. Joel is very forgetful and has very selective memory and my dad is a very good liar and never owns up to his mistakes.

32

___________________________________________________________________________2022 I kept these two in mind when looking for more information. I went to my dad's room to try and find any clues and I didn’t find anything. I went to Joel’s room once again and all I found was the ziplock bag with cookie crumbs in it. This didn’t help much and I already saw this yesterday. JD’s friends might’ve taken the cookies but I have no evidence that it could've been them. It had to be someone in the house. I asked Joel who he suspected might’ve taken the cookies and he said, my dad. I asked JD and he said Joel because he says when he was sleeping he heard someone eating upstairs. This now narrowed my search down to my two main suspects. My dad and Joel. My guess was right, now the hard part is figuring out who ate the cookie.

My mind was all over the place. I didn’t have enough clues to pin either of them on eating the last cookie. I went over the information I currently had to try and figure out the whole picture. My Dad came home at midnight and claims he had juice and bread when he came home. I asked Joel what he had inside of that ziplock bag in his room. He tells me that's where he kept the cookies that auntie made. The box was still on the table where my dad last left it. I then asked Joel what he was eating at 2 am, he told me he was making a grilled cheese sandwich. I wasn’t as surprised as I should be by this answer. I forget that Joel loves to eat grilled cheese and he never washes the dishes when he’s done. He was indeed telling the truth because I saw the pan and the spatula in the sink. I’m really surprised that this kid is not diabetic. He has the worst diet known to man and just eats off impulse. Anyways, I’m going off topic. Let's focus on who the cookie thief is.

I went into the fridge for a bottle of water because I was exhausted from all this detective work. In the back of the fridge, I saw something glistening in the light.

Something was wrapped in tin foil and it looked about the same size as our Auntie’s cookies. I reached for the tin foil and unwrapped it and it was indeed one of the cookies. I was speechless when I unraveled the cookie. I ran to Joel and showed him the cookie; he responded with “I didn’t know we had extra cookies, can I eat it?”. This boy was a lost cause. So I then ran to my dad who was on the couch and showed him the cookie wrapped in tin foil. My dad tells me “Oh, I was going to eat that later, can you put it back in the fridge?” I was flabbergasted and befuddled. I never felt this way before in my whole existence on earth. These two had forgotten everything I was questioning them about and just disregarded all my hard work. This whole thing was just a big misunderstanding and I’m pretty sure something like this might happen again. Only my family is capable of such foolish behavior.

33

Amanuensis

____

Adele Gallagher

Dani Lamonica

Vanessa Padilla

Laila Pratt

34

___________________________________________________________________________2022 Untitled

By Ashley Jacobo Ashley, the average name for an American girl The name that defines you as a nobody according to the Hispanic culture A ghost to society, unseen by the angels Ashley reminds you of a flowing Ash tree, but in reality, she’s a volcano ready to erupt and leave violent gusts of suffocating ash She ran through the forest to find her soul but couldn’t find it in the roots of the White Oak Trees Her mother wanted what was best for her but instead handed her open wounds in the heart She’s the black sheep in a clan of wolves People find her intimidating but she’s just a lonely child inside, yearning for affection She fills the air with an earthy aroma but then you get the after-smell of an overwhelming wildfire Many will think she’s reserved and silent Well that’s a bad judge of character you have because she’s screaming at the top of her lungs and nobody listens The raging fire inside her soul fills her eyes with tears Tick, tick, tick She’s a time bomb ready to unleash her powerful wrath Joshua, the one who brought hope Melani, the overly confident angel of beauty Alissa, the one who enlightens everyone Leo, the mischievous one who always cracks a smile on somebody’s face Whilst in the womb, her mother already knew what to name her precious children, except for the first daughter, Ashley Once she flourished out of her mother’s arms, she was cast out of society and was named an abomination Each step she took felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders She fell deeply into the arms of isolation and misery She had nobody She tried to have herself but the voices in her head told her she couldn’t She’s a glass doll A precious, fragile doll Waiting to be broken You touch her and she shatters into a million pieces that cannot be seen with the naked eye Don’t fret, she’ll glue herself together with the shred of sanity she has left The name Ashley is not shameful She will step into the darkness and fight for the sake of others She is resilient, she doesn’t depend on anyone or anything Ashley is a warrior.

35

Amanuensis

____

Cricket By Jayam Patel Cricket! Cricket! Cricket!

He is like a friend who would never tire, You can play it anytime with your friends when you desire.

Don’t confuse it with Baseball; Like you do with Oranges and Tangerines.

Cricket! Cricket! Cricket!

On the ground I played it with my friends, The sun shining right above, Making us sweat like a Melting Candle.

You don’t know how to play?

Let me teach you!

Cricket! Cricket! Cricket!

With ball in my hand, I run up to the wicket, I spin the ball and let it go, First it went left then bounced right, And the batter doesn’t know what to do.

Cricket! Cricket! Cricket!

The ball hit the middle stump, And the Batter is out.

As you can see, You have to hit the Ball!

Tanmay Sonawane

36

___________________________________________________________________________2022

Amanda Johnson

37

Amanuensis

____

Her Brown of black Skin

By Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi Her skin was just as perfectly blended coffee grinds, Smooth yet rough from her long suffering.

But they hadn’t known that, They hadn’t the slightest idea of the untold stories of these waves of brown all around her skin.

They saw only black and white, They believed white was light that her soft, almost caramel But still too dark tone was black.

They had two eyes that saw only two colors.

She had two eyes yet she saw many colors.

But at the same time she saw only one spectrum. …

She’d walk past a pale yet fair skinned man.

He’d label her a black woman.

She knew he was white, but she’d label him Human, just like any other. …

So, because they were restricted by two, In the end there were only few.

But because she had seen one in many, Her mind expanded greatly. …

In us all, there is many hues, But rid of it all and you’ll only see you.

Not you of your sweet rose skin tone, Not you of your beige yet peachy tone, Not you of your honey glazed tone, Not you of lovely spotted tone, And not you of your perfectly blended coffee tone.

But you of you that is Human.

Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi

Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi

38

___________________________________________________________________________2022

PERSPECTIVES By Jizaiah Candelario

O MY GOD look at your mirror then your phone,every reflection is different including your skin tone there are reflections everywhere in lakes,mirrors even shadows of all different sizes and looks.

We look in a reflection and we see ourselves through glass but one way we can and will never be able to see ourselves is in other people's eyes.

What do we look like in their eyes? Do we look good,bad?

Is our hair frizzy to them because when I looked it looked fine? These are questions we ask everyday because we are so worried about what other people think and the perceptions of ourselves.

I mean after all looks are first impressions we always wanna look good no one wants to look “bad” but the point is looks aren't everything we spend more time looking at ourselves then the people we live with.

Look, how do I look?Do I look good? Is my hair fine?

We ask these at least 20 times a day but still never know how we look in another's eyes.

We think looks are everything but why in the end you won't see these people in a certain amount of time,You wanna impress your friends in freshman grade?

Why in 3 years from then you won't see them again or mind about their opinions you need to focus on yourself.

All that matters is to have self respect and love yourself for yourself.

39

Amanuensis

____

Tanmay Sonawane

40

___________________________________________________________________________2022

Cerulean

by Gabriella Santa Cruz

Prologue

President Ambers strode out of the halls of parliament long after the rest of his cabinet had gone to rest. He was trying to find the roots of a recent problem in his country, “infestation” would be considered an inappropriate word. Of course a nation of Mediums would have a problem with Ghosts.

Their natural energy seemed to draw them in in droves. How fortunate that Mediums were also the only people with the skillset to handle such creatures. Well, not in the numbers they had been seeing these past few months.

The country of Phantos was composed solely of Mediums, those born with gifts. Along with seeing Ghosts, Mediums had the ability to bend only one ancient mineral- Cerulean- into any shape or form. Not everywhere in this world has Cerulean sands on their shores, but Phantos does. Not everyone in this world is a Medium, but everybody in Phantos is. Now, every living person has a gift or two of varying strengths. However, those who are strong enough to use their abilities effectively are only one in a dozen. This talent is dealt out indiscriminately.

Despite his talent with Cerulean, President Ambers was not very good at seeing Ghosts. Of course everybody could see them at their strongest and most dangerous. Their massive headless torsos, their long demented limbs and wide gaping mouths, but they seldom lived to decay to that point.

Ghosts were most often found slightly younger and slightly smaller. Likely still person-sized but sometimes up to the build of a large bear. Almost all Mediums could at least see this well, and this is where President Amber’s abilities ended. In his defense this was very average. It would take a very strong Medium to see a Ghost much younger, much weaker. Still human-shaped, still able to speak.

These were the loneliest Ghosts, and it is no wonder how they decay so quickly.

Despite his troubles President Ambers carried himself with a visible pride in every step. He had a way of never allowing his neck to droop, even when believing that he was completely alone. Like most, he chose to keep enough Cerulean on his person to construct his weapon of choice at all times in the form of jewelry. He wore a large collar over his robes that draped over his shoulders. At the center of his chest was a gem from his ancestor’s country (of course nobody from Phantos is truly native there). He paced on towards his quarters, a short walk from the government center, the night visible all around the towering Cerulean columns lining his route.

41

Amanuensis

____

President Ambers was quite confused to see a silhouette clad in blue towards the end of the column-lined pathway and crept closer to inspect. He allowed his Cerulean collar to dissolve into a loose sand and slip down his neck as he walked. The sand crept down his shoulders and down his right sleeve, it dripped down off of his right hand until every bit of sand had created a stalactite hanging off of his palm. With a flick of his wrist, the sandy mass solidified into a Cerulean broad sword. The gem from his chest was at its hilt. He continued to walk towards the figure.

As he approached the cloaked figure President Ambers became aware of two things. The first was that the figure was most definitely a woman, covered entirely in Cerulean blue. The second thing was that as he approached her he was overcome with a sensation not unlike two magnets on either side of his brain repelling each other, vibrating his brain and aching his skull. The feeling only worsened as he crept closer to the woman in blue.

“Who goes there?” demanded President Ambers, his chest broad and his sword at the ready.

It seemed that every inch of her figure glistened in the night. Her robes were made entirely of Cerulean. How she was able to bend the mineral, a solid stone or coarse sand, to be as soft as linen was remarkable in itself, let alone that it had covered her head to toe. She appeared divine.

“I need ask the same,” replied the woman, “I believe we need to talk.”

“Is that so? Who are you then? What gives you the right?” President Ambers stammered, his head aching.

“We seem to have a mutual dilemma,” she pandered with a calm authority.

“And that would be?” He kept himself collected and authoritative.

The woman turned to face President Ambers. Her lips were full, nose was wide, and her eyes were as large as saucers. Yes, she had to be divine. Her features were distracted, however, by the fact that they were carved out of the same stone her robes were. She adjusted her headscarf with a dark blue hand. Her entire self was Cerulean blue. President Ambers struggled to contain his bewilderment. The Cerulean Woman stated quite matter- of- factly, “It’s raining in Ceros.”

Jordan Jordan never liked mornings. He was always much more of a night owl, but he has been starting to think that that was less out of natural habit and more so because it was his only chance for alone time.

His mom was usually in bed by 9:00 every night. Him and his sister would stay up longer but wouldn’t interact much, they had a mutual understanding that that was for daytime. But since Jordan had moved in with his Aunt he found he enjoyed the mornings much more.

42

___________________________________________________________________________2022

Carlie Cronin

Kayla Lavoie

Maybe that was because his Aunt Sandra would knit late into the night and make him tea or read his fortune and try to get him to watch her Top Gun VHS with him (he did the first time out of kindness, but the volleyball scene was much too uncomfortable to be watching with his fifty year old aunt).

Despite the reason, Jordan would often find himself up a good few hours before he left for school each morning, staring out of his motel room window.

Jordan was only supposed to be staying in his aunt’s motel for a week and a half while his mom went to the funeral of some distant relative in Chihuahua. His sister was supposed to be starting college that week anyways, so it was just Jordan and Sandra. As far as he understood, his mom was staying behind to help the family cook and clean and watch the children while they recovered. She must be doing well because she still sends Jordan a $50 allowance every week. (Jordan had figured out that that $50 could get him a coffee virtually whenever he wanted and one night out with his friends every week. He’d have to sacrifice one or the other on weeks where he needed gas, but he didn’t drive often.) Jordan’s mother would send letters with his allowance. He wasn’t sure if international calls were still quadruple the usual price in the 21st century, if the signal was that bad, or if she was just busy, but she hadn't answered his calls in a long time.

43

Amanuensis

____

At some point after an hour or two of sulking or hiking or playing video games, this morning Jordan did eventually get ready for school. Despite living there for seven months, Jordan never made use of the drawers in his room and much favored piling his clothes back into his suitcase once they had been cleaned. From his suitcase he grabbed a plain black t-shirt, a zip-up hoodie, and a pair of jeans.

Still having no idea how to manage his curls after seventeen years, he brushes them out until his hair goes straight and dry and the brush he uses picks up static electricity. He sees no problem with this look.

Of course eventually Jordan’s very usual morning was overshadowed by his waking up, for the second time that day, in the passenger seat of a stolen car.

Where the Hell-!? Jordan thought to himself as he slowly blinked to life. His face was pressed against the glass of the window. The truck moved so fast that Jordan could make no sense of what was out that window except for that they were somewhere very green. Jordan had the sense to stay very still, to pretend he was still sleeping as he observed as much of his surroundings as he could. He had been here before, there were still M&M wrappers in the side door. This truck had been in the woods near the motel at least as long as he had been there. He and his friends would use it as a meeting spot or a place to spend the night when they were on a budget (say those weeks when Jordan spent his allowance on gas). His first few weeks there he had spent trying to get it to run, apparently someone else had figured it out. Someone else, right.

Torpey TanmayMadison Sonawane

Pierrette Lusamba Cisasayi Alexis Govertsen

44

___________________________________________________________________________2022 Jordan stayed as still as possible as he tried to get a look at whoever could be in the driver's seat.

Instead of moving his face he looked harder at the window. In its reflection he could see her, his capturer.

The woman was either a young thirty or a very hardened twenty-five. Her nose was long and curved downwards, he thought it may have had a slight bump in the middle. Her irises were so dark they couldn’t be told apart from her pupils, together taking up most of her eyes. Her brows were dark and full.

Her hair was shaved. He could tell it must have been as dark as her brows were as her head had also been bleached, almost completely white, except for dark roots. From her ears were large dangling earrings shaped almost like teardrops, a dark blue. She wore a necklace to match, it sat low on her neck and rested just above her very visible collar bones. It was thick, solid, came to a point going downwards at the center, and was made of some smoothed stone, again a deep dark blue.

Where have I seen her before? Jordan wondered. He found himself racking his brain of that morning’s events.

“Awake, I take it?” she stated, rather than asked.

“Awake, I take it?” she stated, rather than asked.

Jordan froze.

“I know I didn’t hit you too hard, you can get up now.”

Before Jordan unfreezed, he turned his head just enough to look at the woman directly. Speaking of flames. Her dark eyes burnt in the right bit of sunlight. Instead of wondering where her irises ended and pupils began, one could clearly see a ring of burnt amber around black. Even with her arms slanted up on the wheel, her blue bracelets stacked all the way up from her elbows to her wrists. They were of the same material as her necklace and earrings. Each was a different width and diameter, as if a child had gotten in their mother’s jewelry box, which did not at all match her menacing demeanor.

Jordan decided to sit up, but he did not speak.

"I'll at least say sorry for the scare. Though this trip is going to be easier with your mouth shut. It's better I caught you off guard."

That, quite frankly, pissed Jordan off a bit. But she was right, he was scared, and didn't even know what else to say.

"Well that's rude," he decided, in his own sort of defiance.

"There are reasons for ‘rude.’"

A pause.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Now feigning comfort.

"Well before we go anywhere, we're looking for rain," said the woman, almost frustrated. Like Jordan should have known that already.

45

Amanuensis

____

"In California?" Jordan asked, disregarding the woman's tone.

"I don't know what that is." Deadpan.

Really?

"I'm sure we're very far from 'California,' we've been driving for three hours."

Well that’s a long time to be unconscious, Jordan thought. At least I’m kidnapped and concussed close to home.

"Have we been driving north or south?" Jordan asked, again feigning assuredness.

"North east."

"Ah, so you have found the rainy part of California."

She does seem to know where she’s going, guess that works out in that she’s just crazy and not stupid. I can at least handle one of those… hypothetically. Unfortunately for Jordan, this was not a hypothetical. It wasn’t until then that he noticed his head was pounding. Until then he hadn’t bothered trying to move it.

“Rest longer, it will be time before we find a fixer.”

I may have underestimated how crazy.

“Right. Uh, after we find rain, where will we go?” Rain was seemingly close, not only was the sky growing groggy but Jordan could smell it.

“To the council of empires.”

Definitely. Underestimated. Crazy. Jordan knew that they were actually headed to a more populated area than they had come from, and one that isn’t as hot or dry. In other words, more survivable. He also knew he shouldn’t be using his head so much with a concussion, but given the circumstances it was hard to help himself. He figured that the best he could do was keep him and his capturer talking. He could keep himself conscious and keep getting as much information as he could about their present situation. At least, how this madwoman saw it.

“Uh huh, and what is that?”

“This is self explanatory. I will not pander to hand-holding.”

Rude.

“Right, and why do you need me there?”

For the first time, the woman hesitated. Her pause wouldn’t have been considered hesitation coming from anybody else, but until this moment it was almost as if she had pre-destined dialogue for everything Jordan said. This seemed to be the first time that she didn’t.

“We don’t. However, we picked you up on our monitors. This seemed to be a quick enough mission so I was assigned to pick you up before I had to be at the council.”

46

___________________________________________________________________________2022

Taylor Honnellio

47

Amanuensis

____

“Why did I come up on your monitors?” Jordan questioned, now speaking his thoughts as they came, no longer calculating his words. Best to let the crazy woman speak and look out the window for landmarks and so on. He was unsure whether he was dreaming “We noticed an upsurge in haunting activity in two places- these places happened to be your school and your home. You were the only common denominator.”

“Haunting activity?”

“I will not entertain ignorant questions. You were discovered on our monitors, I am taking you to the council of empires, and then we will begin your training. This timeline is not preferable, but it will introduce you to our duties.”

Well that part’s concerning.

“My duties?”

“As a Medium.” The woman was almost confused that Jordan did not know what she was talking about, “or perhaps you could be an Allure, but you would have figured that out by now.”

Rain began to pour.

“There!” The woman shouted. She turned the wheel a hard right off of the road and slammed the breaks. They were almost in the middle of nowhere, no more landmarks, just green. Jordan tried to remain calm as he scrambled, alarmed by the scene.

The woman hopped out of the car and opened the door to exit in the same motion, all before the car had fully stopped. She grabs a duffle bag from the back, and Jordan's suitcase from the motel.

Where could she have gotten that from? Jordan stumbled out after her. He meets the woman on the side of the car. The rain pours down on both of them and thunder, lightning, and rain wreak havoc around them. She raises her palm straight up to the sky and looks up.

“Look at my hand,” she says, trying to talk over the noise.

“What!?”

“Get closer and look straight up at my hand. Nothing else. Just focus on it, it should be the only thing you can see.”

Jordan inched closer to the woman and tried to look up at her hand. It's difficult with the rain pouring down on his face. He focused on her hand and nothing but her hand. The woman seems pleased.

“And... we're here.”

The sky is identical. The rain is just as strong, thunder and lightning just as loud, but when Jordan looks down from the woman’s hand and surveys his surroundings, he sees he is no longer in California.

48

Tanmay Sonawane