JacobFendler
NicoleHerrnstein
SpencerCharrington
BenParson
MarshallRobinson
CoverArt
AudreyWallace
In my sophomore year, I took two writing classes, one with Mr. Bliss and one with Mr. Parson. Before these classes, I was still stuck in a strongly negative mindset about writing in school, but the deeply involved approach that my teachers took really helped open up my creativity. When Mr. Parson suggested that I join the staff of the literary journal, I didn’t originally want to. Mr. Bliss cared about me and knew what was best for me, so he took me out of his class, walked my butt down to Parson’s room, and voluntold me that I was signing up. Engaging in those classes and working on the literary journal replaced my vitriolic fervor towards writing with a deep appreciation for the medium as a means of expressing oneself.
AboveisanexcerptfromthegraduationspeechcandidateIsubmittedforreview aroundamonthago.Aswithmostofmywriting,Iplannedtotheminimalextent Iwashappywithandpuncheditoutinanevening.Theshortcompositiontime camenotfromalackofeffort;thestoriescontainedthereinholdsomuchmeaning tomethatIcoulddrawuponthemasifthey’dtakenplacethedayprior.My experienceasaneditoroftheElm&Quillhasbeenparticularlyenrichinginaway InevercouldhaveimaginedbeforeIdovein.SinceIbegan,I’vewrittenpoetry andstoriesthatIdidn’tthinkI’deverhaveinme.I’vereadsubmissionsofallkinds andlovednearlyasmanyasI’veseen.Youholdinyourwebbrowser(oryour hands,ifluckpermitsit)thefinaleditionofthisliteraryjournalonwhichIwill haveworked.IandtherestoftheElm&Quillstaffhaveworkedjustastirelessly onthisissueasanyother,andcouldnotbemoreproudoftheresults.Ourtalented communityofwritersandartistshaveyetagaincometogethertocreateapieceof somethingtrulywonderful.Aspartofmyfinalsubmission,I’dliketomakean expressionofthegratitudeI’vegrowntohaveforyouall.Tomyfelloweditors: thankyouforguidingthispublicationinthebestpossibledirection.Toourfaculty contributors:thankyouforholdingustogetheronthewaytoourdestination.I’d liketothanktheauthorsandartistsforbravelysubmittingtheirwork,andI’dlike tothankyou,thereader,forgivingustheprivilegeofanaudience.ThosewhoI’ve addressedhereknowwhotheyare,andknowthepridetheyshouldfeelinwhat they’vedone.Withthat,Isignoff.
Thankyouverymuchforhavingme.
JacobFendler FormerEditor,EHSElm&Quill
ceaselessmorning thesunhasrisen i’mstillcold,heisnot; heiswarm;heremindsthenighttoend. heremindsmetobeginagain. hegrazeshislightuponmeandbringsmebacktolife ifibaskinhiscomfort,i’llmisstheday’sothercharms itsceaselesstune. thegrassgrows, theearthturns, thebirdchirps, thesunburns.
Howwordscangrowwhenleftaloneisunknowntome.
I'llfloatawayfromtheblankpagewithoutmovingsomuchasathought andyetpenstillscratchessoul
towritewithoutmydesign.
Herwordsdrawmeclose,sodictatesmyhope.
CloserthanbeforeisallIcanmakemyselfbelieveasthemistcurlsitsficklearmsaroundme andIsit,beggingtofeelherembrace.
Thecoldstillhurtslikeitalwayshas.
Sensationstrokesmyarmandblowsakissasitwatchesmydescentthroughthestaticsea.
TheairdisappearsfrommysightwhenInearthesurface.
Ifeelmybrain'srattlingwheezedownsomeoneelse'sspine.
Theghostofabreathhauntsthedreamsdraggingmeintothedepths.
Itstauntingsolacegivesmepeacepurelyforthejoyofpullingitback, notthatI'dnotice:
mylungsaretoobusyscreaminginecstasy
myeyesdrinkthelightlikeavice
mymind'scrieschokeoutthebeautyoftheephemeralclarity.
Thetreesarealwaysovergrown. TheirleavesbrushmeasIwalkalongthepath.
Theirbranchesscrapeacrossmyface, drawingthebloodthatonlyIcanletthem.
MyonlywishisforthefireIwaspromised whenmyownSaintPetersentmehere
topassmeoverandscaldme
asitscrapesthevilegreeneryfrommysight.
Thoughthegodssaytheyloveme, andlaughwhenIwantitofthem, thesisypheanchainsstilldragbehindme, craftedperfectlybymycaptor,asusual.
Theironringsbluntedmyshears asthetreescouldonlydreamof.
FreedomcomesonlywhenIforgettheirexistence andvanisheslikeadreamwhenItrytocutawayabranch, myhandsatechnicolormemory ofthebladesIwieldedwhenIhadthewill.
I'llascendtolimboonlywhenI'vefinished andI'mpulledbackonlywhenIrealizeIhaven't. Iwouldratherbetossedtoafatethatonlydeathcould escape
thanhavehopeplaywithmelikeapuppeteersobbinglines frombackstage.
Iprayonlythatamercifulauthorpensmytale foralifewritbyone'sownmindisasinescapable astheperfectprisonistoanovicearchitect.
InthebastardizedwordsofHarlanEllison, Ihavenobrain andImustthink.
Iwroteapoemagainstgunviolencebecausestudentsshouldnothavetogoto schoolachinginfearofnotmakingithomealive.
Iwroteapoemagainstgunviolencebecausesomanypeoplearegoingtotake theirownlivestoday.
Iwroteapoemagainstgunviolencebecauseittargetswomen,andminorities, tothepointwheretheycannotbeoutsideoftheirhomesintheevenings.
Iwroteapoemagainstgunviolencebecausetoomanyveteransareatriskof dyingbytheirownhands
IwroteapoemagainstgunviolencebecausementalhealthisSERIOUS
she'sgoingtobetroublewhenshe'solder
saidawine-drunkmotherasher7-year-olddaughterplayedwith plasticdolls
andshehadjustplacedsomeredlipstickonforthefirsttime
becauseshewantedtolooklikethosegirlsinthemagazines
makingheratoyofdesire
ohshe'sgoingtobreakheartsherauntsays
thenshecomplimentsthechild'sprettypinkbow
andtellshertopulldownherruffledskirt
Nowthatgirlyousaidwouldbetroublegetscatcalleddownthe street
thegirlyousaidwouldbetroubleavoidswalkingpastgroupsofmen onthestreeteveninbroaddaylight
thegirlyousaidwouldbetroubleworriesthatifshedoesnotwear enoughmakeup
Butifshedoesshe’sonlyplacingherselfindanger
“Hepulledmyhairatrecesstodaywiththegirlwiththefrownthat spokeofconfusion
BecauseIwouldn'tgetofftheswing”.Hermotherlaughedandsaid “boyswillbeboys”
“Heprobablylikesyoudear”
“Nowthatsamegirlyoutoldthosethingstocarrieshercarkeys betweenherknuckles”
Nowthegirlyoutoldthosethingstochecksherwindowevery nightbeforeshegoestobed
Becausejustincaseboysdecidetoactlikethemselves
Howeasy,hownaturalitistobecometheman’sidealwoman, Oratleastpursuesuchanidea.Toletgo, Castasidetheaspectsthatbuildyou. Yet, Howimpossibletototruly, Fundamentally Change.
Howmuchsufferingtheattemptcausesyou! Toembraceyourtruth, Tofindyoursoulasawomanismoredifficultthanworkingtowardsafalseidol. Asyoupullbacklayers, Youstarttowonderifunderneath Thereisnothingbutapatheticurgetopleasethemasculine.
Thestarsofathousandeyes, Theeyesofathousandbeasts, Wordsthatenlightenyou, Wordsthatmakeyoufear, Flying, Soaring, Falling, Dying,
Wordsthatcanmakeyoufeelasfreeasthewind, Wordsthatcanmakeyoufeelundertheweightoftheworld, Thegatesofheaven,thefiresofhell, Wordsthatcanmakeyoufeelpeace
Wordsthatcanmakeyoufeelwars
Wordsmanipulateyou
Youmanipulatethewords, Ifearyou, YoufearI, Iloveyou, YouloveI, Manipulationofyourthoughts,
Twistingofyouremotions, Entanglementofyourfeelings,
Thehatredofothers, Thetrianglebegins, Thehatredneverends, Starsalwaysbewatching.
I.Circle
Seasons,seasonsarechanging.
Reasonsareleaving.
Neverendingcycleofemotion,nostopofmotion.
Movingforwardjusttofallfaster.
You'reincontrol,alllivingthesamelifejustinadifferentfont.
Whydoesitmatterwhenearthisjustonebigdot.
Sheistheseed.
Theseedsittingbelowthesurface,withsomuchpotentialtogrow.
Sheistheseed,
Theseedwhofeelsshecannotrisefromthedirt,
Sheistheseed,
Theseedwhoisseenasveryhurt.
Sheistheseed,
Theseedshelteredfromthebrightsun.Theseedwhocannotseewhatshehasovercome.
Sheisthesun.
Thesunthatradiateslight.
Sheisthesun,
Thesunwholoveswhoshehasbecome.
Sheisthesun, Whoputslifeintotheseeds.
Nomoreseedsshelteredinthedark.
Becausetheyhavethesun'slifeandenergy,tocarryaroundintheheart.
Nownoseedstobeseen,
Andnolightisdim.
Riseabovethedirtliketheseedshadbeen.
Nopastdefinesyou,Noseedshouldblindyou.
Weareallseeds.
Andwiththerightamountofsupportyouwillgrowtobeyourowntree.
Youwillnolongerhavetorememberwhoyouusedtobe.
Routinedtolove, Routinedtohate,whysopessimistic?lifecouldbegreat. It'swhatyoumakeofit,butwhomadethewordswespeak.
Whosaidgrassisgreenandskyisblue?
Curiouscatgetskilledbutbywho?
It'sasdryasadesertwhenIseethegreycloudstakeover
Thefeelingofthewarmsunleavingmyflesh
Theharmoniousbirds’chirpingcomestoanend
Theworldgetsquiet
Absolutesilencefollows
Silenceturnsintorustlingleaves
Thedarkgreycloudsbeatingoutthesunsshiningrays
Darknessbutinmid-day
Raindropslandingonmyface
Slowlyrunningdownmybody
Ihearaloud
Myeyesshootuptothesunlesssky
Tryingtoseewhatmadethedefiningsound
Aflashoflightfliesacrossthetemporarydarkness
Becomingthebrightestthinginmyuniverse
Myeyesbegintofloodwithwaterthatisnotmine
Thefallingwaternowhurtingmyskin
Thequickwhitestreaksoflightgetbiggerandfaster
Themurderousboomsbecomingmorefrequentandlouder
Alittlebreezequicklyturnsintomassivegusts
Nothingisthesameasitwasbefore
Inaninstant,mywarmparadiseturnsintoalivinghell
Allthewildlifehasescapeddeath
YetI'mlookingintotheeyesofit
Ishutmyeyes
Nowlookingintoablackvoid
Prayingthisisn'ttheend
Thewindpushingovermyscaredanddrenchedbody
Strugglingtostandonthesoggyground
Suddenly,therainfallbecomesslowerandsofter
Thelightningslowlydissipates
Thethundergettingquieterandfartheraway
Littleraysofsunshinenowpiercingthroughthedirtywhiteclouds
Deathletmekeepmylifethistime
ButIdread
Idreadthedaythecloudsturnblackagain
Dreadingthedaytherainfeelslikebulletsonmyskin
DreadingthedaythewindpushesmeoverlikeI'mapieceofstyrofoam
Dreadingthedaythethunderandlightningteamuptofrightenawholetown
Dreadingthenextthunderstorm
Paradelles
Thetwofollowingpoemswerewrittenaspart of The Trouble With Poetry—a one-term, school-widecoursefocusedontheworkof formerPoetLaureateBillyCollins.
Both poems are what Collins terms a "paradelle".Paradelle'sarecomprisedoffour stanzas,eachwithsixlines.Inthefirstthree stanzas,thefirstandsecondlinearethesame, asarethethirdandfourth,andthefifthandsix lines are assembled from the words of all precedinglines.Thefinalstanzaofaparadelle isassembledfromonlythewordsinthefifth andsixlinesofthefirstthreestanzas.
Theformitselfissatyricalinitscomplexity, thoughitlendsitselftocreativecomposition andsurprisingoutcomes.
Icanheartheskywhisper
Icanheartheskywhisper
Uproarsintothenight
Uproarsintothenight
hearthenightcantheskyuproar
Iwhisper
BelowtheSun
BelowtheSun
Underthestars
Underthestars
TheSununder
Belowthestars
Kidsaresleeping
Kidsaresleeping
Mom&Dadarecreeping
Mom&Dadarecreeping
Arekidscreeping?
Mom&Dadaresleeping
Sleepingunderthestars
Kidswhisper
Mom&Dadhear
AretheSunbelowI?
Arethenightsky?
Canthethecreepinguproar?
Warmsummernightsfloodmyroom.
Warmsummernightsfloodmyroom.
Carryinginthelaughterandlovefromthestreetsbelowme.
Carryinginthelaughterandlovefromthestreetsbelowme.
Streetsbelowme,floodfromnightswarm.Inthesummer, Laughter,andthelove,carryingmyroom
Fallbringsinsmellsthroughthewindow.
Fallbringsinsmellsthroughthewindow.
Asthechildrenjumpandlaugh,asingleleaffloatstome.
Asthechildrenjumpandlaugh,asingleleaffloatstome.
Asingleleaf,bringsfallthroughthewindowtome.
Floatsinthesmells,aschildrenlaughandjump.
Snowmenlinethestreet,watchingmewatchingthem.
Snowmenlinethestreet,watchingmewatchingthem.
Crispcoldbreezes,combinedwithwhitesnow,blowswiththewind.
Crispcoldbreezes,combinedwithwhitesnow,blowswiththewind.
Streetwithsnow,blowsmethewhitewind.Watching,
Thesnowmenwithcombinedcold,crispline,breezes.Themwatching
Thecombinedcrispsnow,laughter,andsmellsblowsthroughthewindowtome.
Fromthestreetsbelowmebringswhitebreezes
Withaleaf,andwarmnightsfloodmyroom.
Mewatchingasthesnowmenfall,lovefloatsin.
Themwatchingchildrenjump,summerlaugh.
Thecoldwindcarryinginthestreetswithsingleline
Myeyelidsslowlyrose,andtheblackhole thatmygazehadcastuponwasnow transformedintoacrowdofpeoplebunched togethershouldertoshoulder.Iswungmy headtothewindowwhichsatadjacenttome. Inthedistancethesunlightbouncedoffthe streamingwaves,creatingcrystal-likepolka dotswhichspottedtheclearbluewaters.I watchedasfriendsandcouplestrotteddown theconcreteroadsandsidewalksbeneathme. Theirfacesweresojoyfulandfullofpride, whiletheonlythingaroundmewas impatienceandangryfrowns.Myearscried tothesoundofmetalscratchingagainst metal.Iwassuddenlythrownforwardinmy seat,sendingmybodyintotheblackdress pantswhichanimpatientmanwaswearing.
Ibowedexpressingmyapology,thenquickly swungmybackpackupfromundertheseat andontomyshoulders.Thedoorswhistledas theyswungopenslidinginopposite directions.Thewaveofpeopleshovingme leftandrightlikeIwasapinballinalarge pinballmachine.Everyonegraspedtheother sideofthedoors,escapingthetrainshands whichseemedtostretchoutandpullthem backin.Istumbledoffthetrainandmade
mywayovertoalittlemachine.Myhands dugthroughmypocket,quicklypullingouta smallcard.Thecardhoveredoverablack screen.Therewasaflashofgreen,which allowedmetowalkthroughtheturning metalbarsandslowlymakemywayupthe stairs.Myeyeshidasalargeflashoflight eruptedinfrontofme.Ihadfinallymademy wayoutofthedimtunnelsshadowing grasp’s,andintoalargeopeningsurrounded bylight.Thequietrustleofmurmurs dissipatedasImademywayupthe unbalancedwitheringstaircase.Thesilence explodedintonoise,asifIwerestandingin thecenterofanamusementpark.
Fujisawastationmaybesmall,butithasmany shopsandisalwaysflowingwithpeople.The eveningsarewhenthedemonscomeout behindthefakesmileswhichmaskeveryone. Menandwomenpushingandshovingpeople around,franticallymakingtheirwaydown thelargehallwaywhichleadtotheoutside worldfulloffreshair.Theexpressionof impatienceandfrustrationisstampedoneach andeveryface.Insidethestationtheairwas thin,withlittleroomtowiggleandmakeits wayaroundthestation.
Istumbledmywaypastcrowdsofpeople, beingshovedsidetoside.Thedemonsthat wereoncekeptsealedinsideduringthe mornings,hadbeenreleasedinthesedreadful evenings.Mybackpackswungtotheside bumpingintobackafterback.Iheardangry voicesyellinmyearasIstumbledtotheside. Thelargeopeningwhichreadexitwasnow onlyfingersaway.Ileapedoutofthehands whichtriedpullingmein.Fallingtomy
kneestakinginalongdeepbreath.Theclean airwashedintomylungs.Thetastewaspure, andsofresh.Myfacewasslappedbyastrong breezethatpassedby.Myeyesfelluponthe streetsthatledtobeautifulneighborhoods. Theshorelinewassopleasingtomyeyesas thesunfellbeneaththesea,andtheocean begantogiveoffadimglowtothecitylying behindmetalcagebars.Thenowsplashof orangeandpinkwhichtheskyprojected ontothebluesea,gavethewatersaflavorof color.Thewavescalminglyrodedownthe waters,feelingmoreandmorepeacefulby eachpassingwave,asifbeingsungalullaby fromthetintedsky.Iwalkedalongthesideof theroad,makingmywaybacktomy apartmentonapeacefulroad,butyetlaying insidealargeroaringcity.
IlivedinFujisawa,Tokyo.Fujisawaisatown locatedinthesouthernpartofKanagawa. FujisawaisasuburbofTokyo,itisknownfor itsbeachculture.Thetownisn'tverylarge, buthasniceschoolsandthelandwhichitlays onisverynice.IliveasimplelifeinFujisawa. IgotomyHighSchooleachdayoftheweek, commutingtoFujisawastationevery morning,andleavingthestationeverynight oftheweek.Ihaveweekendsoffforschool, andIusethattimetorelaxorseepeople.I ownasmallapartmentwhichIliveinalone. Theenvironmentandtheculturearoundme isalmostlikeacontainer,withalidonit. Everyoneistryingtocapturethelittleair whichescapesfromthecracks.Thecontainer isn'thorriblethough,therearesomethings thatIlovehereinJapan,whichIcouldnever imaginedoingorhavinginAmerica.
Iarrivedatmyapartmentbuilding,walking
theslidingglassdoorsatthefrontofthe building.Thehallwaywasdim,asitwas eveningtime.Mynosecouldsniffthesmell ofwashedbedsheetsandfreshcarpet.Istood intheelevatorwatchingthenumbergoup onebyone.Therewasashortdingsoundas theheavymetaldoorsslidapart.Iwalked throughtheelevatorandarrivedatthefront doorofmyapartment.Idugmyhandsback intomypocketpullingoutaringofkeys.I twistedthekeythroughthekeyslot,and quicklyshovedthedooropen.Thelights werealreadyon,andmyearsjumpedtothe soundofthesinkrunning.Islidmyshoesoff myfeet,andtossedthemagainstthewall.I waddledintothelivingroomofthe apartment,whichthesmallkitchenwasalso locatedin.
“Welcomehome!”Emmieexclaimedasshe gavemeahug,asIhuggedherback.The nightswereusuallythesame,thisoneofthe fewnightsaweekinwhichEmmiecame backfromschooltoseeme.Sheisstudying veryhardatschool,andtypicallystairsat schoollater,sobythetimeI'minbedshegets home.Somedaysaweekshecomesback earlier,andweeattogetherandchill,andit appearsthattheseareoneofthosenights.We talkedforawhileasweatethefreshfishand fruitwhichEmmiemade.Itsmelledgood, andtheflavorsseemedtoticklemytastebuds withjoy.Thenightsformeareusuallythe same,withmeeatingwhenIgethome,then doinganyworkorstudyingIneedtodo.I usuallythenwatchsometvorrelax,thengo tobed.It'saverysimpleandeasyroutine. Somethingthatdoesn’tmakemeworkso hard,yetitisn'tthemostboringroutinein theworld,atleastIwouldsay.Afterwe
chilledforawhile,Islowlyclosedmyeyes, readyforthenexttreacherouseveningto come.
Itwasthenextnight,andthesoundofmetal repeated.Iheldawarmcupofcoffeeinmy lefthand,itgavemewarmthinthecoldtrain. Mybodyflewforwardasasuddeneruptfrom thetrain.Mycupslidfrommyfingertips, causingtheliquidtoflowoutofthecup.Itall seemedtohappeninslowmotionforme,as thecoffeeflewthroughtheair,thechainof liquidseemedtocreatearainbowshapeasit caughttheair.Thedrinksplatteredontoa nicelookingsuit.Ibowedonceandthen again,sayingsorryaftersorry.Ireceiveda shovebackintotheseat,sendingmyback slammingagainstthebackoftheroughseat. Myearsweresuddenlyfilledwithangry shoutsoffrustration.Istoodupfromthechair andgraspedmybackpack'shandles.Ineeded togetairbeforeitwastoolate.Iwasshoved backandforth,asifsomeonehadtakenme andthrownmeintoaboxingring.
Thenoisesgotlouderandlouder,andthe stampedingaroundmeseemedtomarch strongerandlouder.Ishovedmyhands againstmyearstryingtosuppressthesound thatsurroundedmeonallsides.Myheartrate increasedasmybreathingbecamemoreand moreheavy. Please… I never want to do this again, not again… no more, please no more… I screamedinsidemyhead.Waterformed insidemyeyes.Adropslowlycrawleddown mycheek,anddroppedtothefloorinasmall splash.Thedropfellvictimtotheground whichfeltlikeablazinginferno.Dropafter drop,theyfellfaster,anditfeltasifthey wouldneverstop.Icouldheartherumbling
ofthetraintrack,andaftertimewentby,I couldhearthewhistleofthedooragainand again.Thenoncemorethesoundofmetal scratchingmetaleruptedinmyhalfcovered ears.Thewhistleseemedlouderthistime,and Icouldhearthescreechofthedoorssliding open.
“Heyyou,whyareyouontheground crying?”Emmieasked,runningdownnextto me.Myheadslowlystillloweredtothe ground,withthelookofdefeatandterror whichtintedmyeyesnow.
“Whyareyouhere?Shouldn’tyoube studyingforyourexams!?”Irepliedwithno expressioninmytone,asifitwereashellofa soulthatwasspeaking.Emmiewhippedouta tissuefromherpocketandwhippedmyeyes cleanofthetears,thenhandedmethetissue. “Blow.”Shesaidsternly.Iblewmynosein thetowelandthenhandeditbacktoher.She shoveditbackintoherpocketandthengave measinceregrin.
“Lookupatme,howdoyoufeelnow?”She askedme.
“Notsogood.”Irepliedbackinafasttone, mydeadeyesslowlyglowingwithlight again.Shewrappedherarmsaroundmeand liftedmeup.Shewasshorterthanme,so pullingmeupseemedlikeitwasataskshe wasfightingherlifefor.Iaidedandstoodup withherhelp.
“Ithinkit'stimewegobackhome,andleave thesedarkdimshadows.”Emmiestatedto me.Shethenstretchedoutherhand,waiting formetoholditbyherside.
“Holdmyhand,andtogetherwe’llwalk outsideintothesunlight,andfornowon,we willwalkintothedarktunnelstogether. We’llholdhandsinthepalmofthetrain,and Iwillalwaysbetheretoprotectyoufromthis roaringplace.”Iheldherhandtightlyandwe walkedoutintothedimsunsetwhich wrappeditshandsaroundus.
“ThankyouEmmie,youmeantheworldto me.”Itoldheraswewalkeddownthequiet peacefulroad.
“Iloveyoutoo.”Sherepliedwithasmileon herface.Weslowlywalkeddownthedim road,intothelightwhichhelditshandsout forustograsp,asitpulledusoutofthedim darktunnel.
BostontoNewYork.That'sahalf-hour flight,andIcan'thelpbutwantnottogo. MaybeI’lldrive.PerhapsI’lltakethetrain. ButthelastthingIwanttodoisfly.It'sthe quickestwaytogetthere.Ineedtobethere assoonaspossible.Ittook30minutesto arriveatLoganAirport.Ittook11minutes towalktomygateandgothroughsecurity. Iwaitedatthegatefor26minutes.When theycalledmygroup,Ihadtowaitbehind millionsofpeople,veryunhygienicpeople. Itsmeltliketheyhadnevershoweredaday intheirlife.Ihavetogetoutofhere.
Ittook30minutestoboardtheplane.Itwas athinwalkway,andtheoverheadbin lookedused.Isitattheemergencyexitjust incasetheplanecrashes.Theeasiestwayto escape.91minuteswerewastedbecauseI choseaplaneinsteadofanyother transportation..91minutesIcouldhave beenthereinsteadofhere.Theplanetakes off.I'venotbeeninaplanesinceIwaslittle butitseemsbumpierthanIremember. Maybeit'stherain.Ilookoutthewindow andseewetpavementl.Itseemsalmost
slimyoutthere.Ihatetherain.Hateit.The raindropsplopontheglassofmywindow, theyrundownandmergetogetherina fashion.Peoplesaythatasyoufloatintheair thebumpinessgetseasier,butforsome reason,thisplanestaysbumpy.Mystomach getsthisfeeling.Almostlikeit'stightening inmybody.Somethingishappening.
It'sbeen27minutessincewetookoff.Itis stillbumpy.Bump.bump.Bump.Andallof asuddentheywerefalling.Ilookoutthe windowandtheonce-cloudyairturnsinto grassandwater.Ittook3secondsforthe planetofall,andregainflight.Iletouta breathIdidn'tknowIwasholdingin.What wouldIdoifthisplanefell?Morebumps. Thenitgoesblack.TheonlythingIcansee isthislight,almostintheshapeofawoman. Then,thissmell.Almostsmokey,likethe blackflakesthatcomefromtheburningfire ofaplane.Thesmelltastedlikeafreshly burnedmarshmallowthatwasstillonfire. Andthelight.Itlookedalmostyellow,just pushingwhite.Thewoman’sfacelooked gentle.Almostlikeithadneverbeen touchedbefore.Butatthebottomofher lightlyshadedcollareddresswasaburnmark likeachunkofthisnow-not-so-perfect dresswastakenout.Hermouthopened.She wantedtosaysomethingbutnothingcame out.Shewastrappedinherownthoughts. Blink.
Thecloudsareback.Weareintheair.The girlisgone,butIhavethisgutfeelingthatI needtotalktoher.Ilookaround.Wanting toturnandseeherface.Nothing,she's nowheretobeseen.Iturntothewoman nexttome.
“Didyouseethatlight?Almostlikeagirl she-”
“Yeah,Idid.Ididseeher.Whatis happening.”
Shesawthegirl.MaybeI'mnotgoingcrazy likethewomanatthehospitalsaid.
“Hey,mynameisMaddy.”shesays.
“Sam.MynameisSam.”
Maddyhadblondehair.Butwhenshe movedherheadintothelightoftheskyit wasalmostapinkshade.Hereyeswere greenbutnotdarkgreen.Green,likethe colorofablackcat'seyesonHalloween.She hadonshortsthatIwouldgotosleepinbut shewasthetypetopullthemofflikeshewas goingtoafancydinner.Hertopwaswhite. Itwasahoodie,itseemedlikeshehadnever washedit.Thereweremakeupstainsonthe sleeve.ontheothersleevewasajuicestain. Shehadonglassesthatwerebrown,buta nicecolorbrown,Likemilkchocolate.
“Whatdoyouthinkitwas?”Maddysays withaslighttone.
“Ihaveagutfeelingthatitwasaghost.”
“That'sajoke.Thereisnosuchthingas ghosts,”shesayswhilelaughing.
Sheisright.Weliveintherealworld.Not thismade-upworldthatIgoto,tofall asleep.Iblink.Andtheresheis.Ilook aroundanditisonlymeandMaddyonthe plane.Iturnmyhead,Maddyisalready lookingatme.Herfaceiswhite.
Finally,someonebelievesme.Theghostis walkingtowardus.Herfacelookssad,her hairisunevenlikeitwascaughton somethingandcutoff.Shedoesn'tstop lookingatmeassheiswalkingtoourseats. Myhandsaresweatyandshaky.Asshe approachesusIfeelthiswarmth.Likewhen youjustgetintoahottubafterbeinginthe coldforalongtime.Shestandsoverme almostlikeshewantstosaysomething.
“Whoareyou?”Maddysayswithashaky voice.
Thegirljustturnedtous.Shedidn'tsay anythingatall.Whatifshecouldn't?What ifshecouldn'tspeakatall?Ireachintomy bag.Icanfeelapieceofpaperandpen becauseunlikeeveryoneelseontheplane,I knowhowtobeorganized.Ihandthemto her.Unlikenormalghosts,shetakesthem andwrites.Slowlyandshakyshewrites down.
Your. stuck. Just. like. I was.
Whatcouldshemeanbythat?Iturnedto MaddybutMaddywasgone.I'mnotsure whereshewent,butIhopeshewillbeback. Itwasjustmeandtheghost.Iwashanded thepaperbacksoIwrote, what does that mean? Do you need help? Shegrabbedthe paperandwrote. Help? you. Cant. help. Me. Whatdidshemean?Itookthepaperand wrote. I can help if you just tell me what happened. Somethinginmyguttoldmethis wasbad.Ialwaystrustmygut.
Shetookthepaperback.
Fine. I was 7 years old when my mom and I wanted to go to New York. It was my first time there. I was ecstatic. We were going to go watch a show on Broadway, the Lion King. But our flight got canceled so we chose this one. I was on this plane. It went down. I died and didn't get to live my life so now it's your turn.
WhenshehandeditbacktomeIknewmy fatehadcometoanend.
Myheartdropped.
