Blue Ink 2023

The Out-of-Door Academy’s Literary and Art Magazine

Welcome from the Editor:

Hi, I’m Rachel Constant and I am the founder and editor-in-chief of the ODA Lit magazine, BlueInk. This student-run publication encourages ODA students to explore the magic of writing and art. We have created an outlet for students to share their thoughts and ideas. I sincerely hope you enjoy reading our magazine. This publication has taken quite a bit of effort on the part of student writers, student artists and editors. In the literary magazine there are short stories, creative writing, monologues, research papers and artwork all created by ODA students. I hope you enjoy!

Rachel Constant

2022-2023 Editorial Board

Editor-in-Chief

Rachel Constant, Grade 11

Editor Alexa Rouen, Grade 11

Facilitator Mrs. Erin Mulvihill

Poetry and dialogue

Blue Ink

Haiku

Gentle springtime rain

Renewing Florida’s soil

Soft breeze in the air

-Jack Hobson, Grade 12

Swing in the spring breeze

A ball soaring through the air

Golfing in full bloom

-Colin Mucha, Grade 11

The air is so clear

Mind is stress free finally Time to enjoy spring

-Madeline Crosby, Grade 11

Pollen in the air

Bees and pollen everywhere

I hate the springtime

- Blake Neumann, Grade 11

Oh, how the winds howl!

Light falls from heaven, what fire: A storm has arrived.

-Luis Junqueira, Grade 11

Haiku is a Japanese style of poetry that is composed of three lines. The first and third lines have five syllables while the second line has seven syllables. Using sparse, specific language, haiku captures mood and is often inspired by nature.

“Haiku for Spring” Assignment Dr. Simon’s class, Contemporary Storytelling, Semester 2, 2023

Photo: E. Mulvihill

“TheOutsiders”Poem:HousetoMyHome

ByGraceChren

A door locked shut, a door slightly ajar; The path I know I must follow is here, I open them all.

Tread carefully across paths previously forbidden, As what illusioned as locked to the mind, comes open; I enter through these doors slowly, hastily. Wearily because of blank interiors, but what is expressionless can transform in time. I become a companion with patience, of which she aids me with hospitality and warm reception.

A new picture on the wall, Flowers arranged carefully on the windowsill; Small trinkets I display that remind me of fresh memories; ones I wish to engrave into my mind. With what is complete so far, The feeling something is missing cannot be shaken; I still make the effort to take up the challenge.

A beautiful string of lights, The coffee table, the centerpiece that represents our bonds; The fear of storms is no longer, as I feel protected here. Ask me where I am, I would not say a house; but the home I’m proud to reside in.

Bottom’sSolution

In the play “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, Bottom is trying to decide how to make their play for the Duke the best it can be.

(afterthemechanical’smeeting;Bottomiswalkinghome)

Oh, as I humbly name myself the leader of our play; For I, Nick Bottom the weaver, been named as fair Pyramus; Need a resolution to these problems lay beyondeth me. How brainless fellow Starveling be

With such a suggestion of removing our killing scene; bold and undaunted!

Nay, that suggestion is one I will not abide. With my prologue, all is to be well.

One paragraph will suffice; with two, now we get tedious. We mechanicals can heed the diminishing time.

To commence my solution, I must find out how to create a moonshine.

I be of the opinion that Starveling the tailor can play this part well. He shall be clothed in all white, to represent the ivory shine of the moon. He shall also hold two small lanterns;

They are to be held up to give a luminosity to the stage.

Now, the wall;

This wall, is to represent an immense scene;

This wall, of which Pyramus and Thisbe shall conversate through.

Snout, the tinker, shall become the wall.

Sorrowfully, there is no budget to be used on a real prop for the stage.

However, our crew is very lucky to have me to find the solutions!

Snout shall hold up his hand to represent the hole in the wall. He shall be clothed in all black, so everything else but his hand will be undisclosed.

I reckon, we can get a spotlight to shine above the hand as well. This has worked out great so far!

The final situation is our prologue.

Deliberately, Quince shall inform our audience that our play is simply fiction.

I have trust that he can give a well punctuated and formal introduction. I will pen a wonderful prologue for Quince to recite.

Yes, I now have my thoughts on this slip of paper!

I shall tell our team about this tomorrow.

KatherineHodapp,Grade8

SophieBose,Grade8

Clara Bloodworth, Grade 8

GraceChren,Grade8

ErikHermansen,Grade8

Norah Meyer,

BrookeMeyers,Grade8

ColinJacobs,Grade8

Hippolyta’sMarriagetoTheseus

Intheplay“AMidsummerNight’sDream”,Hippolyta,theQueenof theAmazons,preparestomarryTheseus,theDukeofAthens.

Hippolyta(talkingtoherself):

Oh,thouisassadasalonelywolfthathowlswhenthemoonisbright! WeddingofTheseustomorrow,thoushouldbehappy,butcommitImight. Ohtoenditall,howeasyitwouldbe, Butmykingdomwouldfail,anddie,ifnotforme. OhmightyAres,thouservantisindespair, Pleasehelpfrombeyond,tomakeTheseusawareIdonotlongforhim,myloveiswithin, MycastlewallsIhavebuilt,andnotmyloveforhim.

Ares(Inhermind):

SillyHippolyta,youknownottorelyonaman! Thouisasindependentasarodent,andneedsnosetplan. YoushallbemarriedtoTheseus,andliveahappylife Andmaybethoustruggleswilldisappear,whenyouarehiswife. Whoknowswhatwillhappen,forthegoodorfortheworse ButTheseuschoseyou,andforthatyoushallnotburst Astheweddingisuponyou,youmustgetsomerest Fortheweddingisforthebest.

Maid(knockingonthedoor):

DearHighness,thetimehascome, Foryoutogetoffyourlazybum. Yourweddingistoday,butyoulooksogloom, Shouldn'tyoubejumpingallaroundthisroom?

Hippolyta:ThoughImaynotlookexcited,orevenbe IamsurewhenIgetthere,Iwillbeabletosee Thisweddinghelpsmypeople,andtheyIlovemost Soanythingformykingdom,whetheritbecoasttocoast.

Maid:Pleasebeexcited,PleaseyourHighness, Ibegofyoutoshownoshyness, Forallwillbewell,justtrustthisoldcow Welllookatthetime,theweddingisnow!!

Simple games, simple plays, simple moves

A game so long you'd think it last forever But one of these days the final whistle blows

You all go home thinking you'll be back

Thinking you get to play again but you don't

It was the final time and you didn't even know it You know at home wishing you could do it again But you never get to go play again.

By Pierson

Mann, Grade 8

“S acrifice: Arlington Cemetery”

by Audrey Luke, Grade 8

I Am

I am adventurous and independent

I wonder about life

I hear silence

I see the beauties of the world

I want to travel the world

I am adventurous and independent

I pretend I am not weird I feel excited about seeing the world

I touch all kinds of animals I worry about school

I cry at the thought of losing a loved one

I am adventurous and independent

I understand I have to work to be successful

I say I will have an amazing life

I dream of traveling the world and learning about new things

I try my best in school and outside of school

I hope to be successful in life

I am adventurous and independent

PoembyMarinaAtwell,Grade8

DrawingbyGigiTuffile,Grade6

PoemInspiredby“TheOutsiders”andthepoem“NothingGoldCanStay”

ByCharlotteUdhe

When everyone is around you crying

Telling you how much they love you

Wishing it was them lying there and not you

Thinking it's their fault

You tell them the reason you are leaving them was worth it

Suddenly you feel your eyes closing slowly

Your life starts flashing before your eyes

And you go back to the first time you hung out with the gang

Your first shared laugh

How they always had you back and defended you no matter what

When you killed someone just to save your buddies life

How they were all here now

To be with you

Now everything is dark but you can still hear them crying ever so slightly

But now you're gone.

They think it is hard to see what is happening in the dark and empty times

They think we go away

They think we are lost

Nothing is ever lost it is just forgotten

Even is a person dies their name doesn’t

They're name never will

Short Stories and Artwork

Blue Ink

TheBeginningbyCollinDillingham

Bang!Ishotoff,sprintingforward,legsflyingunderneathme.Iflewupthefirsthillinfirstplace,leavingatrailof smokebehindme.Ifeltgreat,likealionchasinghisprey,knowingit’sonlyamatteroftimebeforehecatchesit. Exceptthat’snotwhathappened.Itwasmyfirstcross-countryrace,andIwasalittlesixthgraderrunninghisfirst3kona hillycourse.Withminimaltraining,Ihadagoaloffinishinginaroundthirteenminutes.Walkinguptothestartline,Ifelt prettyintimidated,ashundredsofmiddleschoolerswereinvariousstagesoftheirwarmup.Someranshortsprintstowarm uptheirlegsonthecourse.Somewerestretchingbythestartline.Somewereinateamhuddlewiththeircoach,goingover raceplans.Thenervousenergywaspalpable,asitisbeforeeveryrace. Afterwewarmedup,wegotintoourownhuddlewithourcoachatthetime,AlexFry.Beforeeachrace,CoachFrywould tellusajoketoeasethetension.Hisjokeswouldalwaysbefunny,maybebecausewewereallsoanxious.Weweretheonly teamlaughingbeforetherace.

Thecommonmistakethatmanyrunnersmakewhenracingisgoingouttoofast.Especiallyiftheyareyoung.Especiallyin theirfirstrace.Runnersreleasetheirpentupadrenalineandgetpulledalongbyrunnersfasterthanthemduringthefirsthalf oftherace.Then,fatiguesetsin,andyourpacesteadilydrops.Someonedropsaweightonyourback,anditkeepsgetting heavierandheavierthefartheryougo.Yourmusclestighten,youstartgaspingforair,andyoufeellikeyoumightdiebefore youmakeittothefinishline.Ithashappenedtomeafewtimes.

Therefore,I’dbeentoldbymyteammates,mycoaches,andmyparentstostartoutrelaxedandlettheotherrunnersgotoo fast.Thismessagewasdrilledintomyhead,embeddedinmyskullsothatitbecamealawIcouldnotbreak.

Thestartercalledusovertogiveuspre-raceannouncements.Icouldonlyhearwhitenoise.Iwasastautasabowstring;I couldfeelmyheartwitheverybeat.Whenwelineduponthestartline,thestarterblewhiswhistleandraisedhisarms,ready tofirethegun.Inthatmomentamotionlesssilencearosefromthegroundandenvelopedalltherunners.Thesilencespread, eatingallthespectators,raceofficials,andotherathletes.Thissilencelackedthepeacefulnessthatmostpeopleassociatewith thelackofsound.Itwaslikethesilencethatoccursbeforeastorm.Iwaslockedintoplace,crushedbytheintensityofthe moment.Bang!Thegunbrokethespell. Inthisrace,justlikeeveryrace,thenervesfadedassoonasIstartedrunning.Thosenerveswerereplacedbyexcitement, insteadofthefocusthatI’velearnedfromoverfiveyearsofcross-countryracing.Iwasswallowedbyaseaofrunners,most ofthemtaller,stronger,andfasterthanme.Itseemedliketheywereindividualpartsofamassiveanimal,thunderingthrough theforest.Isawmyteammatesindarkbluejerseysmergewiththecreature.Theycaughtthewaveattherighttime,androde itthroughthefirsthill.Iwasleftbehind,havingfunyetcompletelylost.

TheBeginning,Continued…

Myparentshadbroughtsignswiththemandwerecheeringmeonclosetothestartingline.WhenIpassed,theycheered andwavedatme.TheyweresurprisedwhenIwavedback.Iamstillteasedtothisdayaboutthatmoment,wheneveryone elsewasracingandIwasjogging.Thecoursethrewunexpectedhillsandturnsatus;spectatorsjumpedoutoftheforestto cheer.Ifoundcomfortinmyslow,steadypace.Ifinishedinoverfifteenminutes,barelyoutofbreath.Clearly,Ineededto learnhowtorace.

AftertheraceIwasdisappointed,yetIhadmadeanecessarymistake.Everyraceisanopportunitytolearnhowtorace.I lookbackonthatdayasavaluablelesson,andthestartofanincrediblejourneyofselfimprovement.Theartofracingis muchmorecomplexthanitseemsfromtheperspectiveofanoutsider.Youneedtounderstandhowtopaceyourself,when topasssomeone,whentosurge,whentokickforthefinish,howtocontrolyourbreathing,andmore.That’snoteven consideringalltheracepreparationthatisrequired.IfIweretoeattoomuchfoodtooclosetomyrace,Iwouldfeelawful andpossiblypuke.Thiscomplexitybeneaththesurfaceofrunningispartofitsbeauty. Today,IknowmuchmorethanIdidoverfiveyearsago.Wheneversomethinggoeswrong,IrememberhowmuchIcan gainfromabadrace.Badracesonlypushmetoperformbetter.IfIknowIcanrunfaster,alladisappointingtimecandois delaymyinevitableimprovement.Inshort,myfirstCross-CountryracehelpedmetodevelopabettermindsetthatIuseto tackleallaspectsoflife.

JackAppleton,Grade11

Red Light, Green Light

by Audra Wenzel, Grade 8

If you’ve ever snuck into the kitchen for a midnight snack, you know that every noise is amplified in the dark. This is easier now, after having done it time and time again, but it’s hard not to be a little paranoid about all the faint sounds coming from every direction.

I remind myself that every old, abandoned place Archer and I have ever explored has been the same. Speaking of Archer, where is he? It’s eleven o’ clock already and he was supposed to meet me at 10:50. He’s never late. Bethewentinearlythistime,totryandscareme,I think. Whatalittlerat. I’llplayalong, I decide. Idon’tneedhim.

I take a deep breath and go deeper into the first room. I click on my flashlight, observing the room in pieces. I’m in a lobby . Walls painted with smiling flowers. Receptionist area. Chairs.

I move on, not much to see. I keep an eye out for Archer, though- I’ll get him back for ditching me.

Next room is significantly creepier. It’s a maze of plastic play equipment, beanbags, scattered toys. I’m tempted to go back: Archer isn’t here- for all I know he isn’t even waiting for me here, he just decided to leave me. Idiot. While I’m here I might as well check it out, I guess. I can do this.

I turn and my flashlight catches on a strange shape. I freeze. It doesn’t move.

Slowly, I move my flashlight towards it and exhale in relief. Not a weird daycare-inhabiting demon, just a big stuffed bear. I realize everything has gone quieter. I can’t tell if that’s better or worse. I pass the bear, trying to light everything up with my flashlight as fast as possible. I don’t like the sea of darkness that surrounds my oasis of light. The shadows my flashlight makes are long, patterning the floor with dark blots like tree roots. I bump into a plastic slide. It still smells like disinfectant. It feels dirty, like there’s still a layer of grime that Clorox wipes can’t quite remove.

RedLight,GreenLight,continued…

I freeze. Somewhere, an air vent must be exhaling. I take a breath. Consider leaving. I’m all alone here and it’s creepy, but I feel stuck in place, as if the long shadows have wrapped around my ankles, trapping me.

I force myself to turn around. The silence is almost loud. This is stupid and I’m going back. A shock of fear jolts me when I turn around. Surrounding me is nothing but walls of plastic equipment. No exit in sight. I run as quietly as I can. I hear shuffling behind me. Walking when I walk. Running when I run. Like the game. Red light, green light. Stop, run.

My hands are shaking. I’m terrified now. My flashlight swings beams of light around. I don’t know where to go. I stop, stiff with fear.

My footsteps weren’t the only ones I heard.

I take a step. I hear one as I swing around. Redlight. Nothing there except a jungle gym. I take a step forward. Greenlight.I hear a step- somehow, it’s behind me again. Redlight. I turn. Nothing. It’s following me.

It’s now or never. I need to get out of here. I can’t get out of here. How do I guard against something I can’t see?

My flashlight snags on a sign. An exit sign. Hope.

I forget. I turn.

Greenlight.

Alexa Rouen

Grade 11

The Zone by Mason Riley, Grade 8

I hear gunshots in the distance.This is normal. In fact, I can barely remember a time when this wasn’t. I’ve been here practically my entire life, in the Zone.The bare landscape of tall grass and the sound of gunshots along with my Geiger counter going off is the norm for this area.

The Zone is an area around Chernobyl that is not safe for humans to inhabit, but some still live here, and some come here just to hunt monsters. I’m one of them, the hunters, that is.

I move along, watching my every step.The sun’s heat is almost gone, and the sun is about to fall under the trees, so I stop and grab my night vision goggles.The green fluorescent lights slow and the electronic buzz of the goggles sound as I put them over my eyes.

I swing my bag onto my back and continue walking. Watching and listening. The headphones I have on help increase the range at which I can hear things, but still, the enemy can hear further. I continue walking, as there will be no to end my walk for a while.

I have learned that stopping in an open area is a death wish, and they will find you.They are even faster than me, but I know how to win. I know how to think and learn; they can’t.

Something moves off to my left. While taking off my night vision goggles, I unholster my PM and take out my flashlight, my eyes taking a second to adjust to the bright light and dark sky. I stand still, thinking I should run. But that’s what they want me to do; I’ve learned my lesson.

Quickly, I glance to my left and right to find cover, but only for a second. I find a large rock just a few meters away. Backpedaling to the rock is my best option now.

Some pebbles fall off the rock, and I turn sharply and look up.The pink skin contrasts with the grey rock.The crimson blood from its mouth and gashes all over its body. I pull the trigger and the flashes light up the surrounding. My headphones deafen the sound of a bullet.

It flinches back. I stare into its eyes; it stares back at me.Then it jumps. My eyes widen and I pull the trigger as fast as I can. Seven rounds ring out and stop the almost silent night. It falls to the ground and I pull the trigger once more, but nothing happens. I’m out and need to reload.

The Zone, continued.

It gets back up and runs into the bushes. Back where we started, I think to myself. I quickly reload, so I’m ready for a second attack.This time I can hear it. I can hear its heavy breathing and heavy footsteps.

It circles me, looking for a new way to attack.The tall grass is pushed down as it runs. Deciding to reposition, I look to find a different place to hide. I run to find cover as it circles me.

Finally, as I stop, it stops.This time I’m in an open field. It's weakened, so I should be fine. I hear the grass come alive again. I hold my ground and raise my pistol.

For some reason, the running stops. Did it bleed out? I thought to myself. I keep my pistol raised for a little longer, thinking.

Hearing something leaping behind me, I snap to see what it was. It’s right there, behind me. I pull the trigger Shooting for dear life. Eight more bullets break the silence once more. When the click of an empty pistol is all I hear, I lower my gun.

I see it, on the ground, lifeless. I pull out my knife to make sure it’s dead.

Jack Appleton, Grade 11

by Grace Chren, Grade 8

내가 된 나머지 (TheRemainderIBecame)

Inspired by the music video for LOONA yyxy’s “love4eva” from the perspective of 손혜주(Olivia Hye)

Lookingonlyatmyself,allIcanseemtorealizeisthatImightbethepieceunwanted. Foraworld sodistant,weareonlywithourselves;Ioftentryanddeterminehowlongwehavelingeredinthesehalls.Whatis theworldbeyondme,andhowdoIprovokemyvisionsoffreeingmyself?Ourquartetneverfaltered,evenfrom earlydawn;routinessetinstonetobeperfectedwithnosenseofreasonastowhywetireandsufferforthe approvalofourhierarchy.

Residingonthebalconyofthiscorridor,IhaltforthenimbleminutethatIcanobservemyacquaintancesfree themselvesfromthetreacherouspowerslingeringbehindtheglass.Thenumberthreeseemstoodiminuitive; however,theconsciousnessthatremainsinmeinformsmethatopinionsoftheoutsiderwereneveraccountedfor.

AsIstandhereinmyjust-too-perfectlypolishedblackheels,theintrusionofmymindtakespower;the protrusivethoughtsthatIoftenfindcloudingmysensesreturn.Thefillerspot,thewastedspace;myown descriptionsofmypresenceseemonlytoofamiliar.Aloneinonlymyownpresence,theconsciousmindIonce cherishedsofondlyhasseemedtosubtlyfadelikethewaytheearlymorningdawncan’thelpbutrushtodusk. Imistakeanhourforamillennium,fartoolongthatIhavetoacknowledgeasingle,lingeringstare;Iattempt toretainmyall-too-perfectpostureandsmile.‘Surroundedbymyallies’-aphraseIusedfarlongago,seemsonly tooalieninthisday;well,thetrioofsaidalliesIsupposedIgotacquaintedtoonlyseemtobetheenemies.

Lookingonlyahead,allIcanseemtoacknowledgeismyownthoughtsdrainingintoasmallwhisper, tellingmewhatIshould’verealizedsooner. Behindthegrandpillarofthefaultlesslyshinedgranitefloors where myothersreside,scenerythesamehueasalushvalleyliesbeyondtheglass.Throughthecleardoors,ablankstare istheonlythingIseereflecttowardsmyself.Recenteringmygaze,thepiercingpunctureofsixeyeslevelwithmy own;theonesIdreadconversingwithuntilmandatorytimes.

The Remainder I Became, cont.

Dayscanonlyseemtorepeatthemselvesjustasthetimeonaclockspinsround,unawareofthetimesithas imitateditsownmovements.ForsuchwitheringtimeIcanfindmyselfalone,onemaysayit'swastedbymy encapsulatingmind.TimesrepeatingjustasmuchasIcanremember,Iacknowledgetheworldthatliesbeyondthe flawlesslyconstructedarchwaysofthiscorridor,whiteastheeverdiminishingcloudsintheskythatwitherasthe beautyofaclearskyturnsintothedarknight.

Enteringthedarkenedhall,whatIglimpseofisaccordingtowhatInaturallyexpect;thesame3gazesthat subconsciouslyadheremetotheirpresence.Ifeltnoslightofadifference;thesamefeweventsIcanmanageto acknowledgehavenointeresttome.Lookingonlyblanklyattheceilingsabove,Ispeakinahushedtone;“I wonderwhattheythinkofme.”

Justlikehowacrazedmancanonlyspeaktohisownsoullessmind,IcanonlygraspthoughtsIcan perceiveastrue.TheactofbeingstuckonlyinyourownconsciousnesswasthelifeIhadreceived;butwasitthe lifeIdesired?

Withonlythesoundofmyconfiningblack-heeledshoesfillingthespacesofthedevoidhalls,Ifreeze.Irejected theforewarningsthatathingfromwhatwasroutinewouldeverbothertochange;butmaybetheconsciousmind onlyexistsfortherusesitcancauseforyou.Desertedwithmyself,thesinglepiercinggazeIacknowledgedthis timewastheoneofmyown.

Istruggletoremindmyselfwhatoncewas;theirvoicesdidnotflourishinmymind,buteveryother memorydidso.AsIonlycanstareatmyownself,whatplayedbackwasthecountlesssigns,mostevident warnings,potholesinmyownlifeIshouldhavefilled;it'swhatIshouldhaverealizedsooner.

Lookingonlyattheground,asIstandandstareatmyshakingbody;Icanonlyfeelthesoundofthe applausefillingtheroom.Asquickasthespeedoflight,therealizationhitsme.ForaworldIbecameso adjustedto,itcouldn’thavefeltmoreforeignatthismoment.

I am the remainder.

Romeo&JulietPrequelbyMiaFreeman,Grade7

No one knows why the Montagues and Capulets hate each other, no one ever really thought about it. The nurse one day stumbled upon an old diary in the attic. She began to read it, page by page.

It all started way back when. The two families, Montague and Capulets. They were all close friends, in-fact they treated each other as if they were all one big family. Except for one person, Lady Montague. Lady Montague wasn't a big fan of the Capulets, she believed they were a bad influence for her family. She always seemed like something was off, especially about the eldest Capulet son. He always seemed mysterious, quiet, and dark. Lady Montague tried to find out why he was always gone. So she decided to host a masquerade party and pay attention to where he would sneak off.

It was the night of the party, everyone was all dressed up in their gowns and tuxedos with their masks. Lady Montague was enjoying the night, keeping close look on the Capulet son, until she looked away for one moment. She had this awful feeling that something bad was going to happen. Then, she heard a scream. Lady Montague could recognize the voice from anywhere. It was her daughter Catherine.

She rushed to where she heard the scream. It was Catherine on the floor with a knife in her back! The music stopped, there was panic and shock. Catherine had been murdered. Lady Montague knew exactly who it was. Philip, the eldest Capulet son. Lady Montague told her family who she knew it was and none of them believed her, they thought Philip would never do such a thing. So Lady Montague decided to take it into her own hands. She snuck into the Capulet Mansion and poisoned Philip's drink.

Philip was found dead the next morning. Lady Montague was glad her plan worked until, her youngest son Jasper apparently saw everything she had done. Jasper told the Capulets and Lady Montague was taken to the Dungeons. The Montagues and the Capulets made a deal that it was best to never speak to each other ever again.

The nurse shut the diary, she was in utter shock. She didn't know what to do. She decided to never tell anyone, so she burnt the book. No one would ever find out the truth.

AudraWenzel,Grade8

ZoraPinkney,Grade8

BenjaGarcia-Argibay,Grade8

Hippolyta’sLament

ThisintervenesjustbeforeActVopens.Itcreatesascene beforetheweddingofTheseus&Hippolyta. Hippolytaisgettingreadyforherwedding,lookinginthe mirrorandtalkingtoherself:

Today is the day I have been dreading; on this day I shall marry great Theseus Only I feel excitement where detest should be, He murdered my people and stole my life from me Yet I am still wooed by him and his words Cupid’s arrow has landed in my heart, driving me to Theseus’ passion His gorgeous home, his remarkable town, his power over the people everything about him is perfect, his life is but a dream. The life he will give me could be the ideal life, one that many dreams of Oh, what have I come to? I was a queen that loved only her people, No man was ever there to distract me, I was a woman on her own, a woman in control of her own life. Everything has changed but my old world, my old people, my old life lives inside me only now as a shadow, a memory of gold; these memories tease me with the past, a life that i will never get back My new life will come with hardships and problems that I have never had to deal with before, this is what I fear. Still, through this fear of what is to come my love for Theseus grows stronger by the day, my love for a man that doesn't deserve to be loved My marriage is soon, my new life will bring new love My excitement is strong even when it feels wrong, my love for old Theseus is no doubt Even though he ruined my life I still believe his love for me is great, and my love for him is just as strong.

Sophie Miller

WhytheCapulets&MontaguesHateEachOther

byMarleighMatras,Grade7

If you ever read the tragic love story RomeoandJulietyou might be wondering why the Montagues and Capulets even hated each other in the first place. Well, it all started out on a warm sunny day long ago. Lord Capulet and Lord Montague were best friends and were still in school. They were inseparable and always around each other. They did everything together. From eating lunch to walking to school, they always stuck together. They even created their own little special holiday, best friends day, to celebrate how good of friends they were. Well, this all changed on one horrible, brutal day.

It was a normal morning for them; walking to school and entering their first class. However, when they got there they both laid their eyes on this beautiful girl. She was new and had long, silky, brown hair and eyes so blue they were as clear as the ocean. You could say both boys fell in love at first sight. This was a bad thing though because they both fell for the exact same girl. So after class, they both went up and talked to her to find out her name. Her name was Selena.

At lunch the boys couldn't stop talking about her, it was then they suddenly realized they both liked her. They started getting really competitive and even got into a big argument at the end of lunch. Since they both wanted her so badly they decided the only logical thing to do was to not be friends anymore. They both went different ways in life and hoped to never see each other again. They couldn't be anywhere near each other and if they or their servants saw each other, big fights would break out. They would even try to kill each other! This is the basic tale of why the Capulets and Montagues hate each other so badly.

GreatMil:thekingdomhascome

ByJackFavara,Grade6

NovelExcerpt

OnedayinafarawaykingdomcalledGreatMil,ababyisborn. Thisbabywillshapethefuture oftheuniverse,protectingitfromevilandmaliciousness.ThecurrentdayandageisDecember 21st1877.OnthisdayaboynamedCamdynstartshisstory.Preparetobetossedintoaworldof imaginationandcreativity,allthoughtofandwrittenbya13yearoldboy.

Chapter One

“Bacawwk” “bacawwwk” the screams of the chicken filled the room. His eyes started opening at the pace of a snail. “Ughhhhh” groaned Camdyn as he twisted his body and sat up. He could feel the tingling sensation in his fingers, and he could smell the morning coffee in the air. He dragged himself to the edge of the bed where he slipped on his slippers and went on his way.

Camdyn was a 16 year old boy living in a poor family in Great Mil. Camdyn was a short boy with dirty blonde hair. He was fast, and was good at throwing punches. Camdyn had dropped out of school recently and would spend his days fishing with his father and cooking with his mother. Camdyn was a smart boy, but in order to sustain the family and keep a roof over their heads, he needed to help around.

The Population of Great Mil was now 1,280,000 (one million, two hundred and eighty thousand). Camdyn Lupus, was related to Caltron Lupus, one of the most important figures in the rise of Great Mil. Even though there was this connection, he and his family were still treated poorly. On the days he was with his mother, he would usually clean the house, prepare food, wash clothes, and tend to the animals on the farm.

Yes, Camdyn lived on a farm, a pretty big one too. His family had just spent their life savings on it, because eventually when the crops grew, they could eat them, and sell them. When he was with his father, he would tend to the crops, herd the animals, and keep watch for wolves. On the other days he would go to work at the bar and bring in the money for the family. On the off days, he usually spent time with his friends, Alurra, and Brinley.

Grace Chren, Grade 8

ClaraBloodworth,Grade8

Charlotte Udhe, Grade 8

MaggieYull,Grade8

Calleigh Duffy, Grade 8

AutumnWoodsbyAnonymous

Isatinthebackseatwithmyheadagainstthewindow,reminiscingaboutmychildhoodwhileIwaitedtobeginthejourney fromourhomeinPennsylvaniatoournewhouseinFlorida.IsmiledasIthoughtaboutthethrillofridingmybikedownCoy Hill,thelaughterlastingallnightduringsleepoversatAva’shouse,andthefunwehadattheFriendsgivingpartiesinAutumn Woods.Ihatechange,andmovingfrommysmall,friendlyneighborhoodinsuburbanPennsylvaniatoalarge,unfamiliar communityinSarasotawasthebiggestyet.

ItwaswarmbutcloudyoutsideonthatMarchdayinPittsburgh.Theatmospherewasquitefittingforthenewsmyparents wereabouttoshare.“Kids,comehereforafamilymeeting!”mymothercalled.

Myfamilyneverhas“familymeetings”soIknewsomethingwasup.Mybrother,alwayseagertopleasemyparents,ran downthestairsimmediately,andIfollowedapprehensively.Wesataroundthedinnertable,andIlookedoutatourbackyardand thewoodsbeyondit.Sinceitwaswinter,thewoodswerebare,butitwassobeautifulwhenautumncamearound.Themellow tonesofreds,brightyellows,andwarmbrownsalwaysbroughtmejoy.Ilovedrunningaroundthewoods,playingfetchwithmy dog,Bailey,andcollectingleavestojumpin.

Whydidyouwantusdownhere?”mylittlebrotheraskedwithhisannoyingsmile,pullingmeoutofmythoughts.

“Well,”mymomsaid,lookingatmydad,“Wewanttohearwhatyouthinkaboutsomethingprettyexciting.”Shepaused fordramaticeffect.“WhatdoyouthinkaboutmovingtoFlorida?”

Istruggledtocomprehendwhatshetoldme.Atfirst,Ithoughtshewasjoking.Iimaginedleavingmyfamily,friends,and ourwonderfulneighborhoodforastatemainlypopulatedbyoldpeople.“Areyouserious?”mylittlebrotherasked.

“Yes,”mydadreplied.“We’vebeenthinkingaboutitforawhileanddecidedweshouldvoteonthetopic.”

“Absolutelynot,”Iblurtedout.“Wehavesomanyfriendsandfamilyhere,andwhywouldyouwanttoleaveitbehind?”

“Well,myparentsaregettingolder,andwewanttospendmoretimewiththem,”mymomreplied,“theweatherin Floridaissowonderfultoo!”

TherestoftheconversationwasablurasIthoughtabouthowI’dtellmyfriendsandfamilyIwasmoving.Istillhoped mybrotherwouldbeopposedtothemove,butIknewhewouldagreewithanythingourparentswanted.

“Whothinksweshouldmove?”mydadasked.

Myparentsandbrotherraisedtheirhands,destroyinganychanceofusstayinginPittsburgh.WhenIwenttoschool thefollowingday,Ihadtopretendeverythingwascompletelynormal,andthatIwasnotgoingtoleaveeverythingbehindinthe summer.MyfriendsaskedmewhyIwasn'ttryingoutforthemiddleschoolsoccerteamnextyear.Ididn’twanttolietothem, butIwasnotreadytotellthemthetrutheither.

AutumnWoods,continued…

Whenwevisitedmypaternalgrandparentsaweeklater,mybrotherbrokethenewsofourmovetoFlorida.Theywere shocked,andtearsstreameddowntheirfacesindespair.Theywereaconstantinourlives,buttheywouldbarelygettoseeus now.

Whenitwastimetotellourfriends,theyhadsimilarreactions.Mybestfriends,RileyandAva,thoughtIwasjoking.Whenthey realizedIwasbeingserious,theywereheartbrokenandconfusedaboutwhyweweremoving,justlikeme.

Theneighborhoodparties,friendships,andfamilyrelationshipsfeltdifferentafterwerevealedthenews.Peoplewantedtospend moretimewithus,butalsostartedtobecomemoredistant,fearingthatthepainofusbeingthousandsofmilesapartwouldbe worseifwebecamecloser.

Thesoundofadoorslammingclosedbroughtmebacktothepresent.Iwatchedmymomleavethehouse,carryingthelast suitcasetothecar.Mydadhadalreadyleftinthemovingtruck.Mymomshovedthesuitcaseinthetrunk.Itwasmineand containedchildhoodtoys,favoritestuffedanimals,andvariousbabyphotos.Theywereproductsofthememoriesmyhomein Pittsburghhadbroughtme.

Beforepackingforthemove,Itookphotosofourhouse.IwantedtorememberthehomewhereIlivedfortenyears.Whenwe beganpacking,IhadtodeterminewhatIwoulddonate,bringtoFlorida,andthrowout.Ithrewoutprizesfromgamesat KennywoodAmusementPark.Myfavoriteshirtfromkindergartenthatnolongerfitwasdonated,andIbroughtthestuffed animalsIcouldnotbeartogetridofwithustoFlorida.Oncemyfamilyclearedouteverything,thehouseseemedempty,devoid ofeverythingthatmadeitourhome.Wefoundlongmissingitems,whichweremysteriesthatweneverfiguredout.Mybrother foundthelostbookaboutdogsIgotfromtheelementaryschoollibrary.Idiscoveredthemissingpieceofmyjunglepuzzle behindthecouch.

Mymothergotinthecarandbeganbackingoutofthedriveway.Ihuggedmydog,whowassittingacrossmylap,panting.I knewshewouldmissourbigbackyardandherfriendstoo.Aswelefttheneighborhood,IfeltastrangecalmsettleovermeasI leftthefamiliarandplungedintotheunknown.Ihadachancetoreinventmyself.Ilookedbehindme,expectingthecommunity tohavecrumbledwithoutthepresenceofmyfamily.Butthehousesremainedstanding,andbusinesswentonasusual.Iknew wewouldalwaysbepartoftheAutumnWoodsneighborhood,butitwouldbeverydifferentnow.

“Areyouexcited?”Iaskedmybrother.Heshrugged.“I’llmissthisplace.”

Itwasastrangelywarmday,evenforthesummer.Theleavesblossomedwithflowers,andtheskywasclear.Althoughwewere onlystartingourjourney,itseemedlikewewerealreadyinFlorida.

VictoriaWoodruff,Grade12

Hermia’s Lament

In the play “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, Hermia wakes alone in the woods, having been abandoned by her love, Lysander.

Oh Lysander, why doth you must do thus to my heart. Methought a dream thus may be, help me Lysander how I quake with fear. Lysander you sat smiling as fear consumed me. Alack, ay me, the pity I feel. As I ran and wept I abhor what you did. No sound nor word, I swooned with hatred. I well perceive you are not nigh. Why thy must emboss you, I not know. The detestation devours me inside. Speak of love, I must not, Lysander, lord, you are a knave. Not I perpend what thy Lysander accomplished within me. For ‘tis unforgivable and for this either death or you I’ll find immediately. I am lapsed with thus tax you brought upon me. For what a dream was meant to be, turned malicious towards thee. The deepest loathing I seek recounts for the vengeful feeling within. Lysander, oh Lysander, why doth thou must do thus to me. Why doth your heart escort away, as mine follows thee with a simple plea? For this consumes me and thus I must redress or death will perceive.

Monica Feeney, Grade 8

MaddieCongerGrade8

AudraWenzel,Grade8

SonyaPandya,Grade8

AudreyLuke,Grade8

The Wind Killer

by Audrey Luke, Grade 8

In one small town south of New York City, a boy named Charlie and his three friends, Anna, Bobby and CJ were playing hide and seek in the woods one dark, rainy day in late October. One boy went missing. CJ gone, never to be seen again. Lost in the woods, that's what the town thought, but his friends knew something was wrong. The police believed he just ran away. They said that they had bigger problems. Another child, gone, two weeks before CJ went missing. The police spent their time looking for the first child. So, Anna, Bobby and Charlie started a search party for CJ. They begin in the woods.

“Do you really think he just ran away?” questioned Charlie.

“No, he would never run away unless he was running from something,” Anna insisted. Right after she said that, the wind started to pick up. It began to move the leaves until every single leaf that fell that October was in the air circling around the three kids.

“What is happening?” Bobby screamed. Thunder suddenly hit the tree next to them and the sky blew up with light. The force was so strong it pushed the kids to fall back. Then, everything stopped. It was dead silent in the forest. Not a bug mumbled. Charlie looked up and noticed Anna. He ran over to help her.

“Bobby, where’s Bobby?” When she got up she exclaimed. She ran over to the last spot Bobby was and all that was left was the leaves on the forest’s ground. As she began to walk away she noticed that the leaves spelled out words. She walked back to the leaves and muttered to Charlie. He ran over.

“What? Do you see Bobby?” Charlie shakily questioned.

“Look at the ground,” Anna looked down, waited a moment and then started to back away.

“Wha- what does that mean?”Charlie murmured, They knew what it meant, they were just too afraid to admit it.

Anna stammered and read out what the leaves said: “Your friends are gone. You're next.” Charlie began to run towards the gate surrounding the woods. Anna went after him. When they reached the gate, it was closed and locked.

“They never lock the gate,” Anna cried. The gate was built over 100 years ago to keep the spirits inside the forest, so the legend told.

by Audrey Luke, Grade 8

The Wind Killer, cont.

“Didn't they build this gate because weird things were happening?” Anna inquired.

“Uh, I think so,” Charlie stammered.

“There is no way of getting over this gate, Charlie.”

The wind started to pick up. Then the leaves. Charlie looked over at Anna and yelled. She didn't respond. She stood quiet, looking forward. Charlie ran through the leaves to get to her. Once he did, he yelled something to her again. No response. He started to shake her unmoving body, eyes locked in emptiness. Charlie started to cry. Then Anna fell. Charlie caught her and wiped the dirt off her face.

“Anna, Anna, wake up. It's not funny,” Charlie put his hand on her heart to feel her heartbeat. He couldn't feel anything.

“Anna, I can't lose you, too!” Charlie screamed. He put her down on the forest’s bottom. He began to shake and cry.Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move.

“Is anyone there? I need help. She’s dead,” Charlie implored. No one responded. He stood up and tried to unlock the gate one more time, but it was no use. He began to turn around. Something tackled him and it knocked the wind out of him. The wind came back and this time it sucked the air right out of him. He fell to the ground dead.

The dark curtains fall and close, the theater goes dark. Clapping starts.

Thankyouallforcomingforthe50thannualHalloweenplayofTheWindKiller.Beforeyouall leaveIwantedtotalkalittleaboutthehistoryofTheWindKiller.TheWindKillerhuntedthistownover 100yearsago,endingwithseveralchildrendead.Noonereallyknowswhathappened.Somepeoplesay thattheWindKillerisstillouttherewaitingforchildrentocomebacktothewoods.Thankyoueveryone andIhopeyouhaveagreatevening.

The theater fills with applause and people leave. Little do they know that Jonny earlier that day went into the woods and never came back out.

JeffreyHorr,Grade8

8

CharlotteUdhe, McKennaCassidy, WilkesBorden

Grade8

Photography inspired by Salvador Dali’s Paintings, Year

Digital Art

“9/11Memorial”

byMariaBerzins,Grade8

Natalie Shtirmer, Grade 8

The Smile of a Lifetime

OldHallowsEveisanightoffunandcandyforsomebutnotforme.Itallstartedin1980 inSalem,Massachusetts.ItwastheheightofmylifebutlittledidIknowthatitwouldsoonbethe end.IfIcouldgobackintimeandtellmyyoungerselfonething,itwouldbetonotgotohigh schoolthatday.Forthatday,ImetAnaAbbot.Herfacewaslikeashimmeroflightinthenight.A livingleafonawintertree.Ifellforherrightthereandthen.Itwasthebiggestmistakeofmylife. MynameisOliverOwensandthirty-sevenyearsagomylifeended.

Thebusrattledalongthegravelroadleavingatrailofdust.Iracedthebustothestopsign. Thebusstutteredtoastop.Billletmein.Iwalkeddowntheaisleasthebusbegantorolldown thehillandtowardstheschool.Inoticedanemptyseattowardstheback.SittingtherewasAna, stunningasever.Sheglistenedinthelightlikeachandelieratnight.IaskedherifIcouldsitnext toher.Sheagreed,andwestartedtalking.WehadalotmoreincommonthanIthought.Itfeltlike wecouldhavetalkedforhoursbut,likeallgoodthings,ithadtocometoanend.Whenthebus cametoastop,sheinvitedmetoaparty.Iwasstoked.

WhenfourthperiodwasoverIrusheddownthehallstolunch.IwasthrilledtotellShawn. Shawnwasajunior,andhewasabitofanerd.HelikedDungeonsandDragonsandexcelledin school.Ontracktobevaledictorianthenextyear,hewasinthedebateclubandwantedtobecome alawyer.Hishairwasredasthesunset.Hewasshortandscrawnybutwasverywellspoken.He wasmybestfriend,andhewasawesome.

The Smile of a Lifetime, cont.

ItoldShawnallaboutthebusrideandAna.Ithentoldhimaboutthepartyandhowsheinvited me.Hisresponsewas…..odd.HeexplainedthatallofAna’sboyfriendswoulddisappear!Ididn’t believehim;Iwastoonaivetounderstandhim.Ithoughthewasjealous. “You'rejustmadbecausenoonelikesyou!”Iscreamedinafitofrage.

WipingatearfromhiseyehestormedoutofthecafeteriaandIdidn’tseehimfortherestof theday.

AfterschoolIgotonthericketybusandlookedforAna’sbeamingsmile.However,Ididn’t seeit.Ifeltasmalldarknesstryingtoovertakeme.Ididn’tletit.Itoldmyselfthattodaywas goingtobeagoodday.Iarrivedathomeandbeganpreparingmycostume.GoingasArnold Schwarzenegger,Iwantedtoimpressher.Anawasacheerleaderandwasbeautifulasever.We headedinsideofthelakesidemansion.Ididn'tknowwholivedthereorwhosepartyitwas,but Anawasthereandthatwasallthatmattered.ItriedtotalktoShawn,buthewasgivingmethe silenttreatment.Sadandhopingtohavesomefun,Iwalkedaway.ThatwaswhenAnainvitedme outback.Shewaslikeapredatorstalkingitsprey;sheknewtheprecisemomenttopounce.She saidthatnoonewouldbearound,handedmeadrink,andweheadedoutback.

Thispartgetsalittleblurry,butIclearlyrememberhersmileasthedarknessconsumedme. Thatoncemagnificentsmileturnedevilasthenight.ThenextthingIknewIwastiedtoachairon theendofadockwithahandkerchiefinmymouth.

Anabegantospeak.“MyreasontodothisisbecausemyDad,ifIcanevencallhimthat,left mymomassoonasshewaspregnantwithme.EversinceIfoundthisoutIvowedtogetrevenge onpeoplelikehim.”

The Smile of a Lifetime, cont.

“HowamIlikehim?!”Iaskedher.

“Youaren’tlikehim.IjustenjoytherushIfeelandwhenthebubblesstopcomingup,”she claimed.

Mymindracedtodevelopaplan,butitwasnearlyimpossible.Myheartwasracingfasterthan acheetah.Inoticedeverylittledetail.Theleavesonthetrees,theripplesofthewater,thelookon herface.Hersmile.Thiswasnottheendforme.Assoonasshepulledoutherknife,Ibrokefree andstoletheknifefromher.Iscreamed,“Goodbye,”andstabbedher.AtthesamemomentShawn camearoundthecorner,mostlikelyarousedbyallofthecomotion.Hesawmestabherandthe bloodrandownmyhand.HeraninsidebeforeIcouldexplain.Hecalledthecops,andtheytook meaway.

MymotherweptasIwasgivenmysentence.MaximumSecurityPrisonforlife.Nochanceof parole.

“Itwasher!Shetriedtokillme!”Iscreamed.

Itwasnouse.Noonewouldlistentome.Noone,exceptforAna.

byGraceAlegi,Grade8

“StatueofLiberty”

ByNatalieShtirmer,Grade8

The Graveyard Mansion by

Duru Demir, Grade

Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve loved sharing ghost stories around a campfire. This sparked my love for watching horror movies. At night I would go creepin’ round the house scaring the life out of everyone. Even on the darkest nights I would neglect using a nightlight. My mother told me to use them, but I didn’t care. Nightlights are for babies and I am clearly not one! I should probably introduce myself. My name is Lena. I have short, bouncy, brownish colored hair with maroon highlights. I have emerald eyes and pale skin. Most of my clothing collection is complete glitter. I love being fancy, but not dress fancy. More like….. I don’t know… casual fancy? I almost always wear sandals, but there are some times my sandals are “too open” for “school policy”.

I lie down in my sleeping bag watching the stars above me shimmer. My family had forced me to go on the swamp tour family bonding trip. Ugh! Now here I am in the middle of a swamp pretending to be perfectly fine with that. The swamp is all mushy. The trees are clumped together, the air is stale. Everywhere I go is complete mud. Not exactly a dreamland. I stared into the night, it was almost midnight. For the last week, every night at midnight exactly, I would creep out of the stinky place and explore the swamp. I was determined to find an abandoned mansion. It was a legend that every swamp explorer seeked. I slipped out of my sleeping bag and crept around my parents' bags. They were deep asleep which was a good sign. The swamp was an unnaturally spooky place, but tonight it seemed more than ever. I pushed myself through the bushes and vines. The noises of the night didn’t scare me. Crack!My head turned around. Something was behind me. Crack!Crack!Crack!I quietly tip-toed toward the noise; soon I was lost. It might have been a good idea to get out my night light, but no. I was not a baby. I hopelessly wandered around the swamp ‘til a something amazing hit me.

The Graveyard Mansion, continued

Right in front of me was the biggest mansion I had ever seen. Unfortunately, my excitement hit me too early. On the mansion’s walls were pale bloody faces and instead of the usual puddles of water you see in a garden there were puddles of blood. Arms, legs, and chests were scattered around the disgusting view. The hearts of each chest were missing. It was as if something purposely took them out, no, someone. They looked freshly cut, which was not very nice. My heart skipped a beat. This place was nothing like I had imagined. I crept toward the door. Strange sounds filled my head. Children screaming, parents, women, men crying, wailing. My legs felt like jello. I opened the door and screamed. Blood, humans, chests, arms, legs, pale faces. The place was a complete death trap. I stepped in and at that moment the door locked with one big thud. I pulled and pushed, but that huge metal door would just not open! I was stuck inside.

Creaaakkk!Something else was in the mansion. I slipped under the stairs. My heart pounded. I was getting dizzy. The smell of blood overwhelmed me. Another door opened and almost human-like creatures came out. Something wasn’t quite right though. As the humans turned their eyes, hearts, and hair were gone. It was as if they were dead, but alive. They looked like they were possessed by some strange spirit. Each of them had pale skin, and were missing their fingers and toes. I screamed and burst from my hiding spot under the stairs. The creatures were ready though. They grabbed me with the greasy hands. They felt all slimy and squishy. I was a fighter, I didn’t like being held, but I felt frozen. I couldn’t move. They dragged me up the stairs as I wildly kicked them. I screamed and screamed but nothing worked. They tied me to a bed, then suddenly one of them took out a knife. The creature cut my arm, blood soaked the bed. I screamed tears not of water but blood escaping me. Crash. My other arm. I screamed and screamed. The pain. Death would have been nicer.

The Graveyard Mansion, continued

They took my first arm and started eating it. Blood oozing. I felt them biting my legs. Their sharp teeth pierced me. Crash! My leg. I screamed and screeched. I twisted and turned crying wildly. Suddenly my mini night light fell out of my pocket and lit up. The creatures stepped back. It was as if they were scared of the tiny thing. I would have been happy, but pain overwhelmed me. I couldn’t take it anymore. I blacked out.

The next morning wasn’t a morning. I looked around to find myself in a completely different place. It was much more gorgeous, but the pain still lingered in me. I turned and looked around. I wanted to scream. We were in a hospital. The creatures from last night were there cleaning the base of a quite majestic throne in which was being used by a figure not even the bravest person could withstand. A ghost with sharp teeth and a ragged dress. Blood was oozing from her teeth. She was eating a pair of human arms and one leg. That's when I realized those were my arms and legs. My nightlight was shattered. Of course! The light was toxic to them!

“It's your fault you're here.. If you had just used the nightlight while you were sleeping then we would not have been able to use our lovely little night powers to draw you to this fate. How sad, how unpleasant this must be for you.” The ghost screeched. “Your mother's nightlight is special but you took it for granted. No one is going to save you. You are just like the others now, my prey. Your parents… I wouldn’t say that they're lucky. Do you know why there are ghost towns? As I eat you I eat your memories too. I use them to hurt and eat more and more people until no one is alive or I turn them into my lovely little servants.”

So here I am. Lost. Rotting to death. I’ll probably say bye bye to life in a few days or sadly maybe even hours. I have betrayed everyone, even Ms. Parrots’ newborn twins in danger. I will never sleep without a nightlight again.

LizaFriedman,Grade8

NatalieShtirmer,Grade8

TheNot-So-SuiteDisasteroftheRockiesby

MaxDinetz,Grade6

Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve loved sharing ghost stories around a campfire which is probably why I love watching horror movies…

It’s a cold night in the beautiful Colorado Rockies and a blizzard is happening right outside a couple’s car window. They think it’s a normal blizzard, but little do they know it will be a night they will never forget. Bren and Caroline have been married for just over a year and are going on a trip to ski in the Rockies. As Bren was driving through a giant pile of snow their small, little hatchback got stuck.

“Are we stuck?” Caroline asked. “Yeah, we’ll have to go find help on foot,” Bren answered. So, Bren and Caroline got out of the car and in the distance, they saw a shimmer of light. They started walking towards it and as they got closer realized it was a hotel, The Mountain Ridge Inn. They started walking faster as it was getting colder by the minute. As they walked into the lobby, they got a blast of heat and a faint whiff of smoke. Bren and Caroline thought nothing of it and assumed it was the wood burning in the fireplace. As they looked around, they realized something, “Bren, have you noticed that we’re the only ones here?” Caroline asked. Bren answered, “We can’t be the only ones here.”

When they got to the front desk, they were greeted by a man named Jason. “Are you here to book a room?” Jason asked. “Yes, do you have any rooms?” Bren asked. Jason answered, “Ah yes, of course we do.” Bren was eager to get checked in, but Caroline had her own thoughts about this place. Mumbling under her breath, “Why Bren? WHY?!”

They got their key and headed to room 528. As they entered the elevator, they got that same whiff of smoke from earlier. When they got to their room, they put down their bags and sat on the couch to rest.

After about an hour, they noticed that the room was getting hotter and hotter and becoming uncomfortable, so they called the front desk. No one picked up. They tried again and again and no answer. They were getting concerned. “Let’s go downstairs,” Bren said. As Caroline tried to open the door she said, “Bren…I can’t open the door,” “Let me try,” Bren said, thinking all it would need was his strength.

TheNot-So-SuiteDisasteroftheRockies,continued…

It didn’t budge, Bren and Caroline stared at each other as wide as their eyes could open. They practically sprinted to the phone and called 911. The operator answers and Bren told him what’s happening. “Is this a joke?” the 911 operator asked. “No sir,” Bren and Caroline answered at the same time. “That’s not possible, The Mountain Ridge Inn burned down 15 years ago,” the 911 operator said. “Well, I’m telling you we are in the hotel right now, so maybe you are confusing hotels. Please just track our location and send help,” Bren said. The 911 operator said, “Sir, you don’t understand that hotel doesn’t exist. I’m sorry, without a location I can’t send help.” And with that the phone went dead. Bren and Caroline sat in silence.

“Well, we only have one option,” Caroline said. “We have to jump out the window.” “I guess so,” Bren replied. First thing they needed to do was break the window. They knew they needed to act quickly, as the temperature was getting unbearable. Now what to use to break the glass, Caroline and Bren look at each other and say, “Shower curtain rod!” at the same time. They run to the bathroom and get the shower curtain rod. As soon as they got it off, Bren immediately charged the window and broke it. A cold gust of wind blasts into the room. Caroline and Bren grabbed hands and leap out of the window.

As soon as they hit the ground, they started running as fast as they could away from the hotel. They both had this strange feeling, that something didn’t seem quite right. As they walked towards their car, they were relieved that it was still there. They immediately got in, but it didn’t start. They found a number for a tow truck company and called for help. The tow truck arrived and two men got out.

“You guys got pretty stuck,” the first one said as he pulled out a cigarette. “Were you here overnight?” the other one asked. “Yeah,” Caroline replied, “We stayed at the hotel down the street,” “Huh? What hotel?” they asked simultaneously. “The Mountain Ridge Inn,” Bren replied.

TheNot-So-SuiteDisasteroftheRockies,continued…

The men were very confused, so confused, in fact the man even put down his cigarette. “Sir, this is not funny, we have better things to do than deal with prank calls,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Caroline said nervously, “This isn’t a joke. We spent the night in that hotel and even got locked in. We had to jump out the window to get out.”'

“That’s not possible,” the man said, very annoyed.

Bren said firmly, “We literally stayed there last night,”

“No, The Mountain Ridge Inn burnt down 15 years ago,” the men said at the same time.

Bren and Caroline responded at the exact same time, “What are you talking about? The hotel is right over ther……”

I will never sleep without a nightlight again.

SonyaPandya,Grade8

TheDarkBasementby

JackBowling,Grade6

A boy heard his mom yell his name, but when he went downstairs there was no one there. The boy, Charlie, thought he was just tired. He wondered if his mom yelling was just his imagination. Charlie thought it was weird to hear yelling from the basement. No one ever goes into the basement. It’s dark, scary and damp. He didn’t like to go down there alone. He looked at his watch. It was getting late. Charlie said to himself, “Iamgettingtired.Ineedtogotobed.”

Charlie ran up the stairs and went to his bedroom.

In the middle of the night, he woke up and was thirsty. He went downstairs to get a drink. When he got downstairs, he saw one lit candle in his kitchen. He thought to himself, “Mom neverlightscandles.” Tingles ran up his spine. He got a drink of cool water and started heading back up the stairs. He froze in his tracks. He thought it might be a good idea to check and see if his Mom was in her room. So, that’s exactly what he did. When Charlie got to his mom's door, he was a little bit scared to open her door. His mom hates to get up early and might get mad if he woke her up for no reason. But this was urgent. When Charlie went into his mom's room, there was no one there. However, there was a note on her bed. It said just one word. “Basement.” He thought, “Wait,Ithoughtmymomscreamingwasfake! But,whatifitwasreal?” Charlie felt the hair stand up on his neck and his blood run cold.

He ran down the stairs as fast as he could and opened the door to the basement. There was a note there. It said, “Saveyourself.” The note was on a dark piece of paper and written in messy handwriting. At this point, Charlie was so scared he did not want to go down the stairs. But, he just could not stop thinking, “Whatisupthesenotes?Whyarethenotesso creepy?” Charlie slowly started to creep down the stairs. As he got closer to the bottom, he started to hear noises. It seemed to be the noises of people trying to scream. But, their screams became whispers. It also sounded like people banging on walls. Whatever was down there, it was taking over the basement.

TheDarkBasement,continued…

When Charlie finally got to the bottom step, he looked around and saw darkness. When his eyes adjusted, he noticed in one corner of the room, there was a pile of bloody knives. In the other corner, a candle lit. What he saw shocked him. It was his mom tied to a chair. It was like something only from a horror movie. It was the Grim Reaper. The Grim Reaper was wearing a black robe. He didn’t have any eyes. He had no face. It was only darkness. In his hand, he gripped a staff with darkness.

The Grim Reaper said in a deep voice, “Hello Charlie have you come to see your mother?”

“What do you want from her?” Charlie said.

The Grim Reaper said, “The only thing I want is her soul.”

Charlie was in a bad spot. If he tried to save his mother, he would more than likely die. If he didn’t try to save her, then she would die. “Whataterribledecision,” he thought.

“DoIriskmylifeornot?”

With all of his courage, he ran to get a knife from the pile. In a second, he grabbed a knife and stabbed the Grim Reaper. Charlie untied his mom from the chair. Then, he looked behind him and the Grim Reaper had gotten up and stabbed Charlie in the neck. At the same moment that happened, Charlie fell to the ground and the Grim Reaper dissolved into a pile of black ashes. Charlie was rushed the hospital and survived.

A moment later, Charlie woke up. He was covered in a cold sweat. He realized it was just a dream. He was safely in his bed under the covers.

Although he was relieved it was just a dream. He decided he would never watch a scary movie before bed and he will never go into the basement again. And now, most important, Charlie will never question his mother.

DaisyQuintal,Grade8

HowHandSanitizerChangesaLife

byKristinaSpilka

Who knew that a hand sanitizer could eliminate germs and fake friends? I grew up not being called Kristina, Tina, or Tinka like I was used to, but I was called American Girl. I was judged for something I could not control.

Where does hand sanitizer come into this story? Well, we all know and loved the Justice hand sanitizer when we were younger; it had fun shapes and colors and sometimes even lit up. They did not have Justice hand sanitizer in Czech, so whenever I had it with me, people would always ask where I got it from, and I would follow with the story that I got it from America.

At first, when I was still naive, I answered all their questions and felt proud to talk about my life here. I never thought it would be followed with rude, jealous comments and being called American girl. I remember distinctly two moments that made me hate coming here even though it was where my happiness came from. We were walking to English class in Czech, and they all knew I was here half the year and in Czech half the year, and I needed to use the restroom. I asked someone to hold my books, and no one would. It was such a heartbreaking moment that no one would hold my books, and they all laughed at me. My favorite teacher, the English teacher, ended up holding my books, and when I went to the bathroom instead of using the restroom, I broke out in tears. I know that hand sanitizer was not the main cause for this, but I associated my Justice hand sanitizer with it, which is the main reason I always got those questions.

The second instance was a lot worse. I was at camp with my childhood best friend, and it was a fresh start as none of them knew I lived in America other than her. I was excited to keep my secret and be like everyone else. I brought my Justice hand sanitizer with me and was planning a whole cover story about how my parents went to America for a trip and brought it back to me. Back then, I was not really as good of a fibber as I am now. So when the question came up, I just answered with I got it in America and ignored the rest of the questions.

My friend Nicole stayed there and kept talking to them and told them that I lived in America for half the year and then I lived here for the other. The following day everyone knew it got spread like wildfire. I was furious with my friend, as she knew I wanted to keep this a secret. One girl who never liked me very much was extremely jealous and started spreading rumors about me, so I cried to my friend Nicole who was four years older than me, and she said she would handle it. I never asked what happened or if she talked to her because I didn't want to revisit the subject, but in the next couple of days, a girl came to me, one that was staying in the same room as the mean girl who was spreading rumors. She told me the girl wrote mean words I couldn't even repeat in the closet with a marker. I went to take a look when the mean girl was not there, and I automatically burst into tears.

HowHandSanitizerChangesaLife,cont.

I mean, who wouldn't when a girl two years older than you writes words you do not even fully understand, saying stuff about how you are spoiled for living in America. That day I took all of my three hand sanitizers off my different bags and backpacks and shoved them into the bottom of my suitcase.

I wrote my grandma a letter while my tears smudged the ink. I explained what had happened, how sad I was, and how I didn't understand why this was happening to me even though I had done nothing. Within two days, she answered.

I remember her words distinctly. She said, "Don't cry, my little sunshine, they are just jealous" she followed to tell me that I shouldn't hide my Justice hand sanitizer; I should be proud of my life and my opportunity in America. She also told me that when I Facetime her when I am in America, I am the happiest she ever seems to me. I realized that night that just because they are jealous and mean, I do not have to hide who I am. That night I found the only pair of pants I had with belt loops, strapped my Justice hand sanitizer on it, and walked around the hall with that star hand sanitizer lighting up for the whole world to see.

These two experiences changed me enormously, and they made me realize that no matter what, I will always be subject to judgment, and I can not change that, but I can change how I react to it and whom I call my friends. I love it here in America, and I dread going back to the Czech as this is my home with all of my friends, who dont my background and where I came from, who actually find it intriguing. My friends here get so much joy from trying to tell my bilingual dog to sit and paw, and they still laugh even though they have probably done it 20 times. This experience was life-changing, at least for me, and it was all because of my Justice hand Sanitizer.

FilipSpilka,Grade8

LizaFriedman,Grade8

MaggieYull,Grade8

ZimmermanStreetbyBrooklynBowling

I’veneverreallybeengoodatchanges.WhenCOVID-19hitinMarch2020,Istruggledthemostwiththelackofsocial interaction.WhatImostloveaboutgoingtoschoolisbeingwithmyfriendsallday.Irememberdiscoveringthatschoolwould begoingvirtualduetothepandemic.Ourprincipalannouncedthatthegovernorhadclosedeveryschoolinthestate;this wouldgointoeffectthefollowingafternoon.

Whilemostofmyclasscelebratedanextendedspringbreak,thefeelingofdreadsetinforme.IbegantoconsiderthatI maynotseemyfriendsforweeks,possiblymonths.Ontopofthat,Ihadverylittletimetopreparemyselfforthisadjustment. Thenextday,asIoverheardeveryconversationandreadeveryarticleIcouldfind,Ibegantounderstandhowmuchlifewould change.

ThefirstfewdaysofthefirstweekoftheCOVIDshutdownwerespentpanicking.Beingoutofmyroutine,notgoingto school,andhavingnosocialinteractionledmetojoininonthelockdownhysteria.Asdramaticasitwas,Ihadconvinced myselfthattheworldwasending.Tofixthis,mymomsuggestedthatwehaveasocialbubblewithourclosestfamily friends/neighbors,theWrights.Theyhavethreekidsthesameageasmybrotherandme:Lila,Teddy,andLeo.Weagreedthat wewouldallonlyseeeachother.Creatingthissocialbubbleforthenineofuswascriticalforme.Theygavemethesocial interactionIsodesperatelyneeded.

Inearly2020,IstilllivedintheNorth.Therefore,theweatherwasveryunpredictable.Forthefirsttwomonths,itwas oftenfreezingandsnowing.Lila,Teddy,Jack,Leo,andIconstantlyhungoutinthebasementatmyhouse.Wetriedmany differentactivities,knitting,crocheting,makingworrydolls,makingbread,etc.OnedayinlateMarch,wefoundmultiple cardboardengineboxesinaroominthebasementthatwasunoccupiedforthemostpart.Theboxeswereextremelythick,tall wide,andsatupright.LilaandIsetthemuponoppositeendsofthehallwayfacingeachother,sotheylookedlikehousesina neighborhood.Soon,ourbrothersjoinedthegame,andeveryoneclaimedtheirowncardboardhouse.Wedecoratedourhouses, paintedthem,andmadethemcompletelyindividualized.

Aswegotmoreandmoreintoit,wemadeupastoryaboutthelittlecardboardneighborhoodasifitwerereal.Weimagined thatwewereafamilycalledtheZimmermanswholivedinaneighborhoodwithhousesnexttoeachother.Whywechosetocall ourselvestheZimmermans,Inolongerremember.Whatbeganasasmallafternoonprojecttoalleviateourboredombecame incrediblyimportanttome.Everyday,Lila,Teddy,andLeobroughtmorecardboardtocontinuetobuildZimmermanStreet.We addedamarket,bank,governmentoffice,library,gasstation,etc.,allmadefromcardboard.Wecreatedourowngovernmentand currency—weevenelectedapresident.CreatingZimmermanStreetwithmybestfriendsgavemeanoutletforcreativityand offeredadistractionfromthepandemic.

Thiscentralgroupofpeopleduringthattimewasvitalforme.SpendingtimewithLila,Teddy,Jack,andLeopushedthem pastjustregularfriendsbecauseofourprofoundconnectionformedduringthepandemic.TheyarethereasonIhavesomany positivememoriesofascary,uncertaintime.Still,theyaremybestfriends,andIgenuinelydon’tknowwhatIwoulddowithout them.

TheTaleofHowMontaguesandCapuletsTurnedRivals: IsabelRiley,Grade

7

This story isn't a happy one as most stories are. This is the tale of two uniquely different families and how they become enemies in a blink of an eye. This story is about how the Montague and Capulet families began to hate each other.

One morning, on a sunny, breezy day, a young girl woke up to the sound of birds. This young girl was named, Juliet. Juliet was the girl who woke up and got ready immediately, but not today. Today Juliet felt different like something bad was going to happen. She slowly got out of her soft gold and pink duvet bedsheets. She stood up and started making her bed, ensuring she stuffed the duvet cover in each corner of the bed.

After she was down she walked downstairs not feeling motivated to brush her wavy blond hair and put on her usual dresses for the day. Before she stepped on the first step she heard her parents yelling at each other. She slowly walked down the stairs taking each step slowly listening to her parents fight.

"How could your brother do this to us? I thought we could trust him," Juliet's mom yelled at her husband, "You told me we could trust him, but we couldn't, why did we trust him."

"He's my brother, I love him! I thought I could also trust him," Juleits father said in a calm collected voice.

Juliet slowly walked downstairs till she hit the first step. She hopped down on the floor to tell her parents she was there. She walked over to them and gave them a hug.

"It's ok I know what's going on," Juilet said in a cheerful but comforting voice.

Juliet went back upstairs grabbed her bag and her clothes and packed them up in her bag. She went downstairs gave both her parents and left. She knew she had to leave to join her uncle, Juleits dads brother, she had to leave to live with him. Juliet's brother made a deal with her family that if they didn't leave his town they would take Juliet and all their riches. They would have to leave the town now but Juilet would stay, she would stay while her family would adopt a child named Romeo. She was young and slowly forgot about her parents. But every day her parents and uncle fight to try to get Juliet back. Juliet will always see her parents as enemies, but falling in love with Romeo has brought the families closer.

OliviaBorg,Grade8

JakeBeasley,Grade8

SophieDuell,Grade8

SonyaPandya,Grade8

DowntheRabbitHole:APersonalNarrativeby CalderLedbetter,Grade10

I see darkness. Only dark. No light, intangible reference. Relative…omnipresent… night.

Cal opened his eyes to a world he never knew existed. Only vaguely familiar with this experience through the dreams that kept plaguing his mind’s eye. He watched as the hole that he had fallen into closed. There was no way out.

Cal’s mind flittered through the string of unfortunate events leading up to this predicament. Nothing made sense. Yet, everything seemed too. He remembered thinking about the world… his place… humanity’s… everything…. Then he remembered falling, falling, falling, falling. For so very long. Hours and hours and hours… of just… falling. He wondered when exactly he had finally stopped.

Cal looked around, though he doubted he could see much more than just pure black. There was nothing. Just like last time? He could swear he had been here before. He got up on his feet and started walking forward. Not entirely sure where he was going. Not entirely sure what he was doing. Somehow he knew there were no obstacles or walls blocking his progression… forward? Backward? Side to side? He did not quite know. Then again, he did not really know if the floor beneath his feet was flooring at all. He trudged on.

Cal knew somewhere deep inside his mind that eventually…if he kept walking he’d find a way out of this wretched destination that he presumed to be hell. And so, he walked. Ambling on…seemingly forever. Throughout his walk, harrowing thoughts continuously slammed into him. He hated the darkness. This absence of light. He hated being here. He hated the life he had left behind. He hated everything. Wallowing in this self-hate, Cal suddenly noticed one of his feet hit something solid. He paused, unsure of what to do. Had he hit a wall? He thought this was impossible. There just simply wasn’t supposed to be a wall here. The pathway was supposed to be empty… dark, but unchallenging. Somehow he knew this was the way out. This unexpected wall broke him. He collapsed to the ground, crying…weeping uncontrollably, unabashedly. He pounded the ground in a seizure of sorrow and rage. He hated himself. He wished it would all go away. And with that last thought, all the rage, power, and hate he could muster was packed into the fist of his hand. He punched the ground and the floor shattered. And before his startled face knew what was happening… he was falling again.

DowntheRabbitHole,continued

Cal knew this time however, there was no bottom. Cal soon heard a new sound, and it was not the air rustling through his hair as he fell. No, this sounded like… buzzing?? He screamed. And then they were on him. And so, his final descent began, like so many times before. Only this time...this time there was no escape.

Cal’s mind exploded into tiny fireballs. His forehead felt like it was ready to burst from his head and crawl into a hole. His body felt sharp jabs penetrating his skin…tiny little incisors ripping through his flesh… microscopic claws burrowing deep inside of him. He felt their wings, felt their hands, felt their stings.! He felt them crawl up his nose, in his wounds, in his mouth, burying themselves. Laying their slimy, filthy eggs. It was pain undefinable; pain unimaginable. So much agony. He was still falling, but now he was fading. Cal tried to reason with himself, the injustice of it all. But he could not, in his heart of hearts, Cal knew he deserved all of it. His last anchor to reality snapped. He spoke in the tongues of men and of angels, yet with no love. He had become nothing more than sounding brass… a clanging cymbal. Cal had failed. He thought he knew the gift of prophecy and understood all the mysteries and the knowledge of Earth. He did not. He was nothing.

Suddenly, a golden light appeared. Immaterial, unearthly, yet not unholy. Cal opened his eyes, and there in his hands he held a piece of paper. As iridescent as a butterfly’s wings at sundown, this paper held no weight at all. It broke through the darkness. He flipped the paper over and saw one word etched in resplendently crafted letters: Reflect. After reading this word, Cal broke again. However, not in rage or hate. For now, he had realized the greater truth of it all. This paper, this word, this call back, reminded him of who was and most importantly what he needed to do. With that in mind, he did just what the letter suggested and trusted. He reflected.

Sometime later…

Cal pushed through the old concrete door into a dimly lit room. Immediately the aroma of sandalwood hit his nostrils, nearly knocking him off balance. His body never acclimated to the smell of incense his teacher used in her classroom and so every day when he stepped into this dimly lit room he was still quite shocked. He shrugged it off however and went to his seat, assigned by himself. He looked around the room and found, to his pleasant surprise, that he was not the only person in the room.

DowntheRabbitHole,continued

His teacher was there looking at him strangely, a mixture of disappointment and intrigue on her face, masked by her apparent attempt at a welcoming smile. Cal grinned and his teacher’s face relaxed into a genuine one. She got up from her seat and plopped into the seat next to Cal. Soon, the rest of his peers filtered into the room and at 9:00, his teacher began her lesson. Whatever that was. In truth, he did not truly care.

After class, when all the other students left on their way to their next period, Cal stayed behind. He approached his teacher’s desk and placed the note he wrote during her lecture; on whatever book they were reading at the moment. His teacher glanced questioningly at Cal. But Cal just smiled at her and left to make it to his next class. Cal’s teacher read the note Cal had given her on her desk. She smiled and looked up, but Cal was already gone.

For the rest of her day her attitude had a permeable air of joy about her. Cal did not actually see her reaction. He did not need to see it. No more did he wait to see what was already true. He knew at last, that relativity was the path of corruption…of the snare, the pit, and the fall. Hate reflects hate was the common adage he had heard so many times. The relativity of it all, now made perfect sense. Cal dismissed the saying with a mental command. He knew where that kind of thought led. Instead, Cal knew one thing, and he held onto to it with all his might. Love reflects Love, and it never fails

Non-Fiction Essays&Speeches

❖ TheEffectsofSeedOilsbyNatalieShtirmer

❖ ChooseVegetarianbyDaisyQuintal

❖ PlasticPollutionbyNorahMeyers

❖ SalvadorDali’sBasketofBreadbySophie Bose

❖ SalvadorDali’sTheHallucinogenicToreador byOliviaBorg

The Effects of Seed Oils

by Natalie Shtirmer,

Grade 8

Everyone talks about saving the planet and saving the Earth. They talk about reducing waste and plastic use to save the soil and animals, but no one ever speaks about the people living on this Earth. They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day. However, what you consume is just as important as when you eat it. Approximately 50 percent of Americans eat cereal as their first meal, so let's find out if you know what is inside the most common sugary cereals. Most cereals are made from whole grain corn, sugar, corn syrup and seed oils. These few ingredients are seen in many other products, but do we really know what they can do to our health? Some examples of seed oils are Canola, Sunflower, and Sesame oil. The oil is extracted from a seed by using a mechanical, hydraulic, or screw press. These seed oils are causing a health epidemic in America as they have become increasingly more common over the last hundred years, and they have a large impact on physical health.

Seed oils are a very common ingredient in different foods such as cereal, chips, fried food and many others. When looking at the top three most commonly eaten cereals, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Lucky Charms, and Cocoa Puffs, the fourth listed, meaning one of the most used ingredients is seed oils. Before the 1900s seed oils were quite uncommon, and only now have become to rise in popularity. In the last hundred years, monounsaturated fat has increased by fifty-four percent and polyunsaturated fat consumption has increased by three hundred percent. Many speculate the reason why American food companies have started using these oils more. One possible motive could be the relationship between money profits and supply and demand. Seed oils are much cheaper than other kinds of products like butter, therefore it is more cost-efficient.

Despite the cost-efficiency, these seed oils have had a negative impact on American physical health. Polyunsaturated fats, or seed oils have a high concentration of omega-6 fatty acids. This can cause an imbalance between the inflammatory omega-6 to anti-inflammatory omega-3 ratio, causing numerous health issues such as cardiovascular disease and diabetes. The National Library of Medicine states that “[o]n average, more than 2,200 Americans lose their lives to cardiovascular disease each day”. This imbalance between omega-6, an inflammatory, and omega-3, an anti-inflammatory, can lead to myocarditis, inflammation of the heart, which is one type of CVD. Additionally, seed oils are known to oxidize quickly, so one way to imagine the effects that it has on one's body is to look at a bottle of oil after it has been sitting in the pantry for some time.

Overall, the epidemic of seed oils is having a negative effect on the American population’s health. Companies have been using cheap, cost-efficient oils to make a larger profit. As a result, many of the foods that sit on the shelves of American grocery stores can cause imbalances between omega-3 and omega-6, leading to negative health outcomes. To optimize one’s health, make sure to do your best to avoid seed oils. While this may not always be possible, for example, when dining out at a restaurant, it is surely possible to accomplish in the grocery store. When checking out, make sure to check for seed oils!

The Effects of Seed Oils

by Natalie Shtirmer, Grade

8

Works Cited

Adto, Bjorn, and Macie Maislin. “Seed Oils List - What Is & Is Not A Seed Oil?” DrugGenius, 2 March 2023, https://druggenius.com/nutrition/seed-oils-list/. Accessed 26 April 2023.

“The Biggest Dietary Change in American History – Nicole Holovach | Dietitian Nutritionist | Frederick, Md.” WholeHealthRD, 28 May 2014, https://wholehealthrd.com/2014/05/the-biggest-dietary-change-in-american-histor y/. Accessed 26 April 2023.

“Candy Consumption Patterns, Effects on Health, and Behavioral Strategies to Promote Moderation: Summary Report of a Roundtable Discussion.” NCBI, 7 January 2015, https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4288276/. Accessed 26 April 2023.

“Cardiovascular Disease - A Nationwide Framework for Surveillance of Cardiovascular and Chronic Lung Diseases.” NCBI, https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK83160/. Accessed 26 April 2023.

ChooseVegetarian!byDaisyQuintal,Grade8

Hey, why did the tofu cross the road? He wanted to prove he wasn’t a chicken. Today I will be telling you about the impact vegetarians have on our environment. First of all, being vegetarian slows down climate change rapidly. Now who wouldn’t want to do that? In addition, going vegetarian helps reduce pollution which helps all of us out in the future. Lastly, I know we have some animal lovers here, so going vegetarian is a great option to help save animals because it reduces wildlife habitat destruction and deforestation. As you can see being a vegetarian has many benefits for our earth.

First of all, choosing a vegetarian diet or even switching to eating one vegetarian meal for a day can drastically reduce climate change. One simple change could result in Greenhouse emissions being decreased by 35%. Even if we just switched or got rid of one animal product that would have a significant impact on the environment. By choosing a vegetarian diet s, you alone can drastically reduce the amount of land, water, and oil resources that cause pollution. Did you know, one person can save over 100 animals each year by going vegetarian?

Secondly, animals and the processes they go through for us to be able to eat them create a lot of pollution. Manure severely harms river and stream ecosystems. Farmed animals produce 130 times as much excrement as the entire population of the United States. This ends up polluting our water which then contaminates our air.

Lastly, going vegetarian greatly reduces wildlife habitat destruction and deforestation. Thirty percent of the earth’s land surface is used for livestock, the majority of that is used for grazing. The increasing need for grazing land leads to the destruction of vital habitats for wild animals such as the rainforest. Deforestation is another major problem for many animals such as red pandas. There are many other problems for animals associated with this as well such as reducing food sources which can negatively affect the food chain. Did you know that livestock production is responsible for 70% of deforestation in the Amazon region of Latin America? Deforestation is not only a problem for animal habitats, it also increases greenhouse gas emissions by releasing carbon that was previously stored in the trees.

To conclude, going vegetarian has many benefits. It slows down climate change, helps to reduce pollution and wildlife destruction, and limits deforestation. Going vegetarian may seem like a big change but even if once a week you started doing a meatless day it would make a big difference. I myself used to eat meat every day, but now I don’t think I’ll ever go back to eating it. By being more aware of what you eat, you can have a big impact on the environment as well as your health. We need to make a change and it starts with you.

ChooseVegetarian!byDaisyQuintal,Grade8

Chritz,K.(2020,November15). The Impact of Being a Vegetarian on the Environment.PotterPark Zoo.RetrievedMay2,2023,from https://potterparkzoo.org/veg/#:~:text=Being%20vegetarian%20can%20help%20slow,productio n%20greatly%20reduces%20these%20emissions

Fdip,V.(2023,January1). Vegan and vegetarian impact on environment and climate change. volunteerfdip.RetrievedMay2,2023,from https://www.volunteerfdip.org/vegan-and-vegetarian-impact-on-environment-and-climate-chang e#:~:text=Reduce%20Air%20Pollution%20and%20Greenhouse%20Gases&text=Vegan%20diet s%20offer%20the%20greatest,significant%20impact%20on%20climate%20goals

Top 10 reasons why it's green to go veggie.Top10ReasonsWhyIt'sGreentoGoVeggie|Downto EarthOrganicandNatural.(2022).RetrievedMay2,2023,from https://www.downtoearth.org/go-veggie/environment/top-10-reasons#:~:text=Reduce%20ecolo gical%20footprint,pollution%20they%20otherwise%20might%20cause

PlasticPollutionbyNorahMeyers,Grade8

Did you know that every year, 8 million tonnes of plastic are put into the ocean? As a result, there could be more plastic than fish in the ocean by the year of 2050. When Marine species get tangled in plastic, it can result in severe injuries or death. But plastic doesn't just affect marine animals, it is also a threat to human health. The effects of plastic pollution start with marine life but end with us. Humans cause plastic pollution and, in the end, we are victims of its negative effects.

The International Union for Conservation of Nature states that, the most frequent impacts on marine life is suffocation, entanglement and ingestion. Many animals think that plastic debris is prey and the animals become starved from just eating plastic. When plastics are under UV radiation, currents, and other natural factors, the properties are broken into smaller plastics that are referred to as microplastics and/or nanoplastics. After the plastics are made smaller, it becomes easier for marine animals to ingest the plastics by accident. When an animal ingests the microplastics, they are passed from animal to animal. That's when the plastic makes its way into the human body. Marisa Clark from the ocean blue project found that, “ 1 in 3 fish caught for human consumption contain plastics”. This means that a lot of the fish we eat contain microplastics. This isn't the only way that microplastics enter the human body; the three main ways are inhalation, ingestion, and dermal contact. Anja Brandon from the Ocean Conservancy found that, “irregularly shaped microplastics lead to increased cell death. Longer exposure times and higher amounts of microplastics cause more damage to our cells”. Microplastics are also carriers of other chemicals that are harmful to the body such as pesticides. As soon as these chemicals make their way into the human body they can potentially cause cancer, chronic inflammation or to other unknown diseases.

Inger Anderson, Executive Director of the UN Environment Programme found that in order to slow plastic pollution we need to, “We must eliminate and substitute problematic and unnecessary plastic items and ensure that plastic products are designed to be reusable or recyclable”. There are many little things that can be done to slow plastic pollution such as cutting back on single use plastic, recycling properly, or you can even do something as easy as showing you support reducing single use plastic. Ask yourself, what step will you take today?

PlasticPollutionbyNorahMeyers WorksCited

Brandon, Anja, and Britta Baechler. “How Microplastics Impact Human Health.” OceanConservancy, 26 January 2022,

https://oceanconservancy.org/blog/2022/01/26/microplastics-impact-human-health/. Accessed 25 April 2023.

Clark, Marisa. “What Is the True Impact of Plastic In the Food Chain?” OceanBlueProject, https://oceanblueproject.org/plastic-in-the-food-chain-ocean-blue-project/. Accessed 24 April 2023.

“A Global Perspective on Microplastics.” AGU, 29 July 2022, https://agupubs.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1029/2018JC014719. Accessed 25 April 2023.

IUCN. “Marine plastic pollution - resource.” IUCN, https://www.iucn.org/resources/issues-brief/marine-plastic-pollution. Accessed 24 April 2023.

Ordoñez, Maya. “Microplastics and Health Risks: What Do We Really Know?” WebMD, 28 October 2022, https://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/news/20221028/microplastics-health-risks-what-do-we-r eally-know. Accessed 25 April 2023.

WWF Organization. “Fight against plastic pollution.” WWF, https://www.wwf.org.uk/fight-plastic-pollution. Accessed 24 April 2023.

SalvadorDali’sBasketofBreadbySophieBose,Grade8

In the late 1910s and early 1920s, a literary trend created the concept of surrealism known as automatism. Automatism could also be referred to as auto writing which was experimented with to release the unconstrained imagination of the subconscious (Seaver). A trained psychiatrist named André Breton and many French poets were impacted by Sigmund Freud's psychological theories and dream research. With the publishing in 1924 of the ManifestoofSurrealism,surrealism was formally established as a political and intellectual movement. Artists including Salvador Dali used surrealism to balance a rational life with one that expresses a deeper meaning in the power of the unconscious and dreams (Tate). Dali is a Spanish painter; he created the surrealist painting BasketofBreadin 1945 at the age of twenty-two in his last years of art school. The painting uses a basket of bread to symbolize how individuals should be grateful for what they have.

InBasketofBread,painted in 1945, is a thirty-three by forty-five centimeter oil painting. It seems to be more smooth than textured. Dali uses a plain frame with a piece of bread resting in a basket; this helps the viewer realize that the bread is the main symbol in the painting. The bread sits in the woven basket, occupying most of its space. The basket is slightly down and right from the center point of the painting. The basket has a thicker lining at the rim and slightly decreases in width as it becomes deeper. It is situated on a wooden table that fills the bottom-right corner. Completed with a solid black background, the bread and basket create a shadow that stretches from the bottom of the basket in a south-east direction. The bread seems to be only a fraction of the original piece. The way Dali portrays this painting shows the importance of things we think are inconsequent.

Many people would think of bread as insignificant, but what some people don’t realize is that to many people, bread may be consequential. The main piece of this painting is the basket of bread, acquired from the name. The bread signifies the importance of simplicit items. In the painting it is one of the only objects present, which is saying it is important. This importance unveils the reason for this painting which is that little things people don't notice are really intricate things in life. This painting's viewer can tell the bread is primary because of the way the painting is set up. The dark solid background gives an empty feeling of which the basket of bread fulfills. The basket creates a surrounding for the bread. The table only being in the corner makes it so that viewers don’t think of it as something so intriguing. As is the basket, the table is just a decoration. Dali expresses the idea of being thankful through a lucid but meaningful painting of something as simple as bread.

Salvador Dali’s Basket of Bread, Continued…

BasketofBreaddelineates the idea of being appreciative of what individuals have. Dali displays this through the painting by using a bizarre form of art known as surrealism. Art by Dali helps people realize how different things can be beyond what the eye can literally see. The painting referenced uses a piece of bread in a basket to indirectly express this concept. Worldwide people take things for granted and this painting represents the importance of being thankful for the privileges that the viewer has.

Works Cited

“Basket of Bread, 1926 by Salvador Dali.” SalvadorDali, https://www.dalipaintings.com/basket-of-bread.jsp. Accessed 8 November 2022. “The basket of bread, 1945, 45×33 cm by Salvador Dali: History, Analysis & Facts.” Arthive, https://arthive.com/salvadordali/works/316451~The_basket_of_bread. Accessed 18 November 2022.

Seaver, Richard, et al. “Surrealism | Essay | The Metropolitan Museum of Art | Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History.” MetropolitanMuseumof Art, https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/surr/hd_surr.htm. Accessed 8 November 2022.

Tate, and Eileen Agar. “Surrealism | Tate.” TateModern, https://www.tate.org.uk/art/art-terms/s/surrealism. Accessed 8 November 2022.

https://salvadordaliprints.org/basket-of-bread/. Accessed 8 November 2022.

“Basket of Bread by Salvador Dali.” SalvadorDali,

SalvadorDali’sTheHallucinogenicToreadorbyOliviaBorg

Salvador Dali was a Spanish artist most famous for his expression of Surrealist art. He was born into a political family and his father was very strict and unyielding. Surrealism is an artform where the artist takes a somewhat exaggerated and distorted view of the scene they are depicting. This is done so the viewer can use their mind and imagination to conjure up the feelings and emotions that go along with it. The piece of work called TheHallucinogenicToreadorwas an oil painting Dali created between 1969 and 1970. The piece is a autobiographical depiction of Dali’s childhood and life in Spain. It is a very strong and emotional piece for one, because of its immense size and two, the bold and bright colors used. It has much going on in the painting and it draws one in because there is so much to view and think about. Surrealism in general, makes one look at life in a different way because of the interpretation involved and this painting makes one reflect on the world through the eyes of somebody’s experiences.

TheHallucinogenicToreadoris thirteen feet tall, painted in oil on canvas. Primarily, it is a scene of a bull fight. The main colors used are reds and yellows, as in the Spanish flag. The scene takes place in an arena and a bull is at the bottom of the picture looking defeated and dying. The toreador is central and takes up much of the space in the painting. However, it takes a close look at the painting to recognize the figure of the toreador, as it is not evident on first glance. Dali’s wife Gala hated bullfights and she is seen in the top left corner looking down disapprovingly. At the bottom of the painting, a little boy looks on at the scene. Overall, the painting inspires the viewer to seek more out of it. To look past the obvious images and try to put together and formulate what the entire composition is telling us.

As such, this painting is a very broad snapshot of Salvador Dali’s Spanish upbringing and Spanish heritage. The entire painting is reminiscent of Spain and likely Dali’s view of it. The colors of the Spanish flag, the bullfighting scene, and his wife Gala all bundled together to represent his ‘world’. As well, the Venus de Milo depicted throughout the painting conjures up the feeling of love and beauty as Venus represents the goddess Aphrodite. As such, the use of the Venus de Milo may be illustrating his love of what is portrayed in the painting. And lastly, that little boy looking at everything, possibly representing Dali as a boy viewing life in Spain almost from a nostalgic perspective.

SalvadorDali’sTheHallucinogenicToreador,Continued…

TheHallucinogenicToreadoris a wonderful snapshot of Dali’s Spanish influences. It is an important painting by Dali as it simply portrays ‘him’. Surrealism allows one to broaden their mind and delve into the mysteries behind the art. It is a little abstract and so it begs us to question and push ourselves to see more than meets the eye. Surrealism and other art forms enlighten our imagination and encourage the viewer to see beauty in the world. We learn new techniques, new ways of viewing things, and new ways of understanding. It’s a relevant piece as everybody has a biography, It just depends how one wants to present it.

Works Cited

Dali, Salvator, HallucinogenicToreador,1968-1970, Dali Museum, St. Petersburg, Florida

CONTENTS:

Poetry

● Haiku 4

● “The Outsiders” by Grace Chren 5

● Bottom’sSolutionby Grace Chren 6

● Multiple pieces 7-9

● Hippolyta’sMarriagetoTheseusBy Alicia Vieira and Maddie Conger 10

● “Simple Game” by Pierson Mann Pg 11

● “Sacrifice: Arlington Cemetery” By Audrey Luke Pg 11

● “I Am” by Marina Atwell 12

● Drawing by Gigi Tuffile 12

● Poem by Charlotte Udhe 13

● “The Struggles of War” by Grace Alegi 45

● “Statue of Liberty” by Natalie Shtirmer 45

Essays

● TheEffectsofSeedOilsby Natalie Shtirmer 67-68

● ChooseVegetarianby Daisy

Quintal 69-70

● PlasticPollutionby Norah Myers 71-72

● BasketofBreadby Sophie

Bose 73-74

● TheHallucinogenicToreador

By Olivia Borg 75-76

ShortStories

● TheBeginningbyCollinDillingham15-16

● RedLight,GreenLightbyAudreyWenzel 18-19

● TheZonebyMasonRiley21-22

● TheRemainderIBecamebyGraceChren 23-24

● RomeoandJuliePrequelByMiaFreeman26

● Hippolyta’sLamentbySophieMiller28

● WhytheCapulets&MontaguesHateEach OtherbyMarleighMatras29

● GreatMilbyJackFavara30

● AutumnWoods32-33

● Hermia’sLamentbyMonicaFeeney36

● TheWindKillerbyAudreyLuke38-39

● TheSmileofaLifetimebyBrodyRose42-44

● TheGraveyardMansionbyDuruDemir 46-48

● TheNot-so-SuiteDisasteroftheRockiesby MaxDinetz50-52

● TheDarkBasementbyJackBowling54-55

● HowHandSanitizerChangesaLifeby KristinaSpilka57-58

● ZimmermanStreetbyBrooklynBowling60

● TheTaleofHowtheMontaguesandCapulets TurnedRivalsbyIsabelRiley61

● DownTheRabbitHolebyCalderLedbetter 63-65

Artwork

● Photos by Jack Appleton Pg 17 and 23

● Artwork by Alexa Rouen Pg 20

● Assorted Artwork Pg 27, 31, 37, 40, 41, 49, 53, 59, 62

● Artwork by Victoria Woodruff

Pg 34-35

● Artwork by Daisy Quintal 56