Through The Patriot: Inspired Minds Literary & Arts Feature, we hope to enlighten the community to the endless capabilities of the minds roaming the UT Tyler campus of today and of tomorrow. This magazine connects each individual voice to that of its brothers and sisters in the arts. It boldly states, “We Are Here and no longer will we hide in the shadows.” Join us as we cast the light on writers, artists, playwrights, musicians, and many more. Here to illuminate your work.
DearReaders,
Itisbittersweetwritingthislettertoyouall.Ihavebeenwiththemagazineforfour yearsnowandhavehadtheprivilegetowatchitflourishandgrow.However,mytime servingonthemagazinehasnowcometoanend.Ithasbeenthegreatestprivilege anddeepesthonortoworkonthismagazineandseealltheamazingworkthathas beenproducedovertheyears–UTTyler,yourcreativitycontinuestoastoundme. Thoughitisatimeoftransitionformeandthemagazine,Iproudlypassthetorchto ournewChiefEditor,LaKyndraLarkin.LaKyndra,Iknowyouaregoingtodoamazing thingsforthemagazine,andIcan’twaittoseewhatyoudo. Thus,aswelooktowardsthenextstep,itisonceagainalltoofittingthatourtheme forthisvolumereflectsthischange–Journey&Adventure.Manyofthepiecesinthis volumearefilledwithjourneysofallkindsthattakeusnewplaces,introduceusto newpeople,andsharetheincredibleadventuresofhowwecametobewhereweare today.Itisthesejourneysthatuniteusalltoeachother.
Toourtalentedartistswhocontinuetosharetheirworkwithus,fromthebottomof ourhearts,thankyouforstandingbyusthroughthiscrazy,wonderfuljourney.This semester,wehadarecordnumberofsubmissionsandwerecompletelyblownaway bythetalent,insight,andcreativityofourUTTylercommunity.Wehopewecan continuetoserveyouinallthewaysthathelpyougrowasartistsandcreatives.
Tooursupportersandthepeoplewhomakethismagazinepossible,thankyoufor everythingyouhavedoneandcontinuetodo.Youmakeitpossibleforustodowhat welove,andwewouldnotbeherewithoutyou.
Finally,toourbelovedreaders,youhavebeenandalwayswillbeourgreatest inspiration.Youdriveustodothebestthatwecandoandmore.Youinspireus,and forthatreason,wehopeyoualwayscontinuetoremaininspired.
Thankyouallforthisincrediblejourney.
Chief Editor
Autumn VanBuskirk
Abstraction–ElainaGonzalez Villainized–SaraOrellana ProtectandServe–SaraOrellana Phoenix–CarleyRhymes Artemis–CalistaSegura BlindingFaith–EmilyThedford SittingintheDark–JoshuaDavidScarangella Pop-UpAd–JosephHamm Communion–KasperDunlap LoveUnderdone–JacquelineCloete DirtyDishes–JacquelineCloete PeoplePleaser–EmilyWear TRAUMA–HopeDuncan ThisBeautiful,BrokenWorld–MiaCampbell JourneyTowardstheAmericanDream–SaraOrellana Short Stories & Visual Art Orison–DanaRaeRamirez TheMoon1–AniAparicio AmanitaMuscaria–ElainaGonzalez Regrowth–ElainaGonzalez TheMoon2–AniAparicio WhyDoItThen?* -JaronBatiste Lost–DaedrianLipscomb *This piece may contain material that is sensitive to some readers Chief Editor AutumnVanBuskirk Associate Editors MonicaSessums MelodyWilson LaKyndraLarkin Illustrator MariaIslam Social Media Manager AlexisMinick
Poetry
Abstraction
By Elaina Gonzalez
Graphitesmudgeslinemybrain
Littlemarksmadeovertime Yourfingerprintshavelefttheirstain Ontheinsideofmymind
Accidentalstrokesofpen Carvetheirindentsinmyheart Neverdidaworkofmen Culminateinsuchanart
Pigmentssplatteredinthepast Otherwisehavewashedaway Yetthehuesoflaughterlast Coloringmyheartofclay
Drawmysoulinvaluesbright Givemebeautywithyourpraise Formycanvaswouldbewhite Ifnotforyourartist’sgaze
Villainized
By Sara Orellana
Withnotmanyrolestochoosefrom, I’llplaythepartofaVillain. CallmethedevilMedusa, CorruptedMarieAntoinette.
I’myourobjectofDesire, Youpaintmeasymbolofsex. WarsoverwhogetstoownmeThenblamemelikeHelenofTroy.
Watchmepickupmyswordandshield AndfightbacklikeJoanofArcdid. MaybeI’llusebeautyandbrains TobecrownedQueenlikeCleopatra.
Protect and Serve
By Sara Orellana
CorruptedCopsandPoliticians Arrestusandthepoorphysicians. TheyalllovetoControlourbodiesWe’vebecomepoliticallobbies.
HypocritesCommandourexistence, Andwillcoveruptheevidence Thatwillprovetheirownfriendsareguilty, Theirowncrimeshiddenandfilthy.
TheySilencethevoicesofmysisters, Whoweretakenbythosestreetwhistlers. Andtotheoneswhocommitthesecrimes They’refreedinlittletonotime.
Phoenix
By Carley Rhymes
Shewasfoundonthefloor Herheadinthebucket Thatcontainedherlife Water,soap,tears,anddirt.
Theybroughthertothedeck Dressedherinherfinestclothes: Acloththatresembled Thatwhichpreservesourfood.
Theygivetheirpraises “Shewassopretty. ” “Shewassohappy” “Shedidasshewastold.”
Astheytossedherofftosea Theysingasong, Withnothingtorhyme Tomarktheendofashortlife.
Theycompletedtheritualwith Amatch,abottleofgin Andapieceofclothtorn Fromherclothes. Astheywatchedherbody Transformintoash, Theysawtheslightestmovement Thoughttobedeceivedbytears.
Ascarlet,sparkling Figureburstforth Tenfeetofbeauty Fightingthewindswithease.
Theonlythingcomingfromher Wastheashshewasleavingbehind Blackdustdriftingaway Fromtheinfantbird.
Bornanew. Ajourneyunknown Allherown,madefromtheashes Ofherpast.
Artemis
By Calista Segura
Thedeadleaves Driftoffoftheirtrees Andtwirlinthe Eveningbreeze. Theirdancesend Astheycommence Withthewind Settingthemdown Gentlyonthecold, Dampground. Onthesewalks Theyaretrampled. Theirgolden,fiery, Younggreens,reds Andyellows Mellowingto Dyingbrown. Intheforest Amidstthebarebranches Sitsacryinggoddess, Hertears Flowingfromhereyes Tracingpaths Acrosshercheeks. Overcomewithlängtan, Shecallsfortheswan OfTimeForgotten. Armedwithacello, Thebirddescends Fromtheheavens Andasit,liketheleaves, Landsgingerly Withcare, Thegoddess Pressesbothpalms
Intoherface Andwhispers
Whatshewishestoshare.
“Tothinkinmid-December Iwouldnotbeable
Toremember Ifitisdayornight. Itwouldseemasif Theworldwasending AndI’velostallofmeto It’sterrible,rendingplight. Inthebeginning Iprayedforclarity, Clingingtightlyontohope; However,thegloom Nowconsumes Everything Likealeech, Suffocating Allsoulswhofall Withinitsreach. Inbetweenbreaths
Iseewherewe Landedinspring Andinhindsight Knowwinter Hadnothingnew Tobring. Inthetime SincetheIdes, Harmoniahas Triedtosoothe Ourfesteringwounds Butpurechaos Continuestoruleus Wearisomefew. Oh,dearswan,tellme, Whereismymind, Wherehasitgone?”
Blinding Faith
By Emily Thedford
Icannotsee, Myfaithblindsme. Godofwonders,Hecreatedthegalaxy. God,hearmyplea, AsIfalltomyknees, Lord,letthisbe.
Icannotsee, Myfaithblindsme. Whydidyouchooseme? Isthisyourprophecy? Myfaithisinthee, God,youchoseme. Yourloveformeisaguarantee, Withyou,nowIsee.
Sitting in the Dark
By Joshua David Scarangella
Yousitthereinthedark Notknowingwhattodo Inyourheaditseemsclear Butinrealityitisnot Nothingtosee, Nothingtohear, Nothingyouthinkwillbethere Thefeelingyouhaveinthedark, Whileyousittherewithnomark
Youlooktothesidewithnohesitation You’renotsureaboutthenewfoundation Yousitthereinthedark Withnofeelingofthemark Peoplemaythinkyou’reafreak Butthere’snothingwrongwithbeingunique Sodon’tsitthereinthedark Withthetoolyouneedtomakethemark
Therearepeoplehereforyou
Tobewithyouandtogiveyouthefire, Tobringthelightyousodesire, Sositinthelightnotthedark
Pop-Up Ad
By Joseph Hamm
Hereyouareagain, creepingbackontomywebbrowser, whenIleastexpectit.
Subtletywasneveryourthing. Icouldbemindingmyownbusiness, likeusual, whenallofasuddenIambombardedbyyourbombastic PRESENCE. I’velearnedmylessonfromclickingintoyour linkonetoomanytimesandIwill nevergodownthatroadagain. It’snotgoodforyou, It’sterribleforme.
Icouldpressxanddeleteyou, Ireallycould, Justremoveyoufrommypersonalcircleoflife. Butthenyoualwayshaveafunnywayofshowingbackupagain, evenmoredeterminedthanthelasttime, toluremebackdownthatrabbitholeofyours. Thatleavesoneremainingoption, disregardance. Whilenotmypersonalfavoritesolution, youreallydidleavemenootherchoice buttocontinueonmymerrylife, whileignoringyoupesteringinmyperiphery.
Communion
By Kasper Dunlap
Cursedbebreadandbody
Forthereisnothingholierthanher
Iwouldsufferaneternitytofeelhernearme I,too,longtolookatmyEurydice
Watchingherslipawaylikebreathonamirror
Abittersweetglimpsethatdismantledreputation
Icouldneverregretsearchingforher Possessedbythevirtuesofanagreedobsession Mayherbodytransformintomine
SoImaysavoreveryinchofher Onlyinthecoldquietcanwebeasravenousaswedesire
Intertwiningourbodies,laidbareagainstJudgement
Transmutationthroughthesaccharinereleaseofcrucifixion
Ineedtofeelherconvulseinunbridledgratification
AndlooktomeasifIamherGod Housingherrageasifitisdevotion
Rapturingthebordersofphysicality Sheisbeyondspirituality
Love Underdone
By Jacqueline Cloete
TostirmyteaandsugarIneedaspoon, Whilewesitinthedimlightofthemoon;
Iuseaforktostabblindlyatloveunderdone, Aswebecomeblindedbythemiddaysun; I’llcutthistensionwithaknife, Oncethetwilighthourbleedsintonight.
Dirty Dishes
By Jacqueline Cloete
Inakitchenpaintedgreen IsawasightI’veoftenseen
Dishes,dishes,dirtydishes Swimminginthesinklikethefishes
Amessofspoonsandforksandknives Oneforeachofourmessylives
Toomanydishesforeitherofustocount Waittoolongandbugswillcomeout
Butitcanwaitawhilelonger Witheverydishlovegrowsfonder
People Pleaser
By Emily Wear
Iamapeoplepleaser;Ipour–
Iwillstartfillingandfillingyourglass Untilit’soverflowing, Andmypitcherhasgonedry.
ToseeyousopleasedisallIwantinthisworld, UntilIrealizeithasleftmedrained. I’llgetinmycaranddrivejusttogetmydistance, Peace, Alonetime.
Butdon’tworry, I’llturnaroundeventually Andcomebackagain
TofillyourglassuntilI’mempty.
T R A U M A
By Hope Duncan
Asyougrow, youlearn howallthesmallthingsshapeyou. Onceyougraspthisrealization, youdigupthebones fromthetraumayou’veburied. Yousearchforanswers, unfortunatelyinalltherightplaces. Truthhurts. Memoriesscar. Resurfacingthescarshurtsworse. Thequestions thatfollowyourdiscoveries, burnastheysinkin. Youunderstandwhyyouarethewayyouare. Youacceptthatyourpastcannotchange. Yougrowupandlearn thetraumasoflifelinger. Thoughtheylinger,dotheydefineyou? Never. Theyaddalittlespice.
This Beautiful, Broken World
By Mia Campbell
You’reright.You’reright.Theworldisreallymessedup.There’sawargoingonand peoplearedying.Wecan’ttrustthepeoplewhoruleusbecausewe’vebeen deceivedbefore.Corruptionofeverythingiseverywhere.It’sfloodingthestreets, thecities,theforests,thepeople.It’sstickingitsinkyblackfingersintothemouths ofbabesandputtingtorchesintothehandsofmeninwhiterobes.Naturehas turnedagainstus,alongwiththepeoplewelove.Oursisterscallusworthless,our friendscallusuninformed,andourcoworkerscallusdramatic.Thereisnothingin thisworld-thereisnooneinthisworld-thatis notbroken.
ButforgivemeforthankingGod,thatinthisworldofgruesomecruelty,hegaveme afewgoodthingsto love.
AndI’mgoingtokeepthemclosetomyheart Untiltheendofall.
Journey Towards the American Dream
By Sara Orellana
Manydon’tmakethejourney; LiveslostinthedryDeserts. CrossesmarkwhereourfriendslayTheironceHopefuldreamscutshort. Theynevergotthechanceto LivetheirownAmericanDream.
ArmsstretchedtotheblueskyPalmsfacingupandpraying ForGodtohelpusthroughthis. We’regratefulforourlifehere, ButHopeforamiracle ToliveourAmericanDream. Ourhandsandfeetareblistered, Butwekeepworkingbecause AlthoughourstomachsgrumbleOurheartsarestillfullofHope, Thatonedayourchildrenwill AchievetheAmericanDream.
Thepeoplesaywestealjobs, Smuggledrugs,andcommitcrimes. OurLibertiesareatwar; Freedomslippingfromourhands. Ourdreamsseemsodistantnow. IsthistheAmericanDream?
Orison
By Dana Rae Ramirez
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER
IfeltclosesttoYouwhenIlabored.
Fromsun-uptosun-down,Iworkedthefields,tillingthesoilandplantingseeds, cultivatinglifesopreciouswherebeforetherewasnothingbutvastandemptyplains.With vainhope,IthoughtthatYou whomadesunandmoon,earthandsky,beastandbirdand man wouldbepleasedwithmyefforts.
IlaidthefruitsofmylaboruponYouraltar,pleasedwithmygiftofabountiful harvest.
Mybrother’ssacrificewasanunsuspectinglambrippedfromitsmother.Hebound itslegswithropeandsilenceditsbleatingcrieswithasmilecarvedacrossitsthroat.He butcheredit,thenandthere.Blood-stainedhandsreducedthatlittlelambtoslabsofmeat andfatuponarock,amacabremealservedforYou.
Yourjudgment judgment, asifthiswereacompetition wasswift.Aflamelitthe rimofmybrother’saltar.Mineremainedbereftandchilltothetouch,gracedonlybyan uncaringwindthatscatteredmycropsontothedirt.
Ifelltomyknees,asdidmybrother.ButwhileAbelclaspedhisbloodiedhandsin piousprayer,Igatheredtheremnantsofmyofferingsclosetomychestandwondered why? Whynotfavorusboth?WhyfavorAbelandnotI?
YouaskedmewhyIwasangry.
Ihadnoanswerexceptthesoiledandbruisedfruitsofmylove.
Icastmyeyesdownwards.
Therewasarockinmyhands,myfingerscurledlikesicklesarounditsroughedges. Idonotknowhowitgotthere.
Icalledmybrothertothefield.
AND OF THE SON
Iraisedtherockandslammeditdownagain,and again, and again, andagainandagainandagainand
Thebonesfragment.Grayandwhitematterreducedtopulp.Thebloodofman spilledforthlikewine,andtheearthopenedupitsmouthtodrinkthesanguineoffering.
Abelnolongerbleats.
Itriedtoclingtothisrage,tothisbrightandblisteringavaricethatburnedlikethe drought-sunbeneathmyskin.Thefeelingdiedinstead.Itburnedthroughallitskindling andleftmemoreemptythanIeverwasbefore.
Ibitdownonmytongue,stiflingthebrittlelaughterthatclaweditswayupmy throat.
Look, oh Lord! Iwantedtoscream. I have reduced an animal down to a slab of meat and bone and viscera! Will You quench Your thirst with the cries of mothers and the death of innocents? Will You look upon me with favor now?
OnlythendidIrealizemymistake.
Ilaughed astrangesoundthatseemedhalf-sobandhalf-mad.Iwipedawaymy tearswithAbel’sbloodstillonmyhands,stainingmyforeheadadarkred.
Abel’sdeathwasnotquick.
Notmerciful.
Not clean.
AnanimalunfittobeeatenbyYou.
Intheend,thisofferingofmine,too,shallgotowaste.
Iburiedmybrotherinthefieldwithquietceremony.
Iprayedoverhisgrave,knowingYouwouldhear.
AND OF THE HOLY SPIRIT
YoufoundmekneelingonthebanksoftheEuphrates,elbowsdeepinthechillingwaters. Theriverhadalreadyrunclear,but,despitethat,myprunedandpaleandstiffhandsare stillstainedinthatdamningcolor.Redlikeapples.Redlikeanger.Redlike shame.
Youspoke:“Cain,whereisthybrother,Abel?”
ThereweremanythingsIwantedtosayatthatmoment.
Alie:Mybrotherisnothere.HehastakenhisflocksomewhereEast,andIknow naughtwhenhe’llreturn.
Atruth:Ihavekilledhim.Ihaveslaughteredhimlikeananimalandburiedhimin thefieldsYou’vespatuponbecauseIwasweak.BecauseIwasn’tstrongenough.Sinhas leaptintomyhouseandmaderoominmyheart.
Astory:Once,whenwewerebarelypastFather’ship,astormunlikeanybefore sweptthroughtheplacewecallhome.Thundershookthewalls.Rainpeltedthethatched roof.ThewindhowledandrattledagainstthewindowsasifDeath thatunknown specter wastryingtoclawitswayin.Motherbadethewholefamilytokneeldownand prayforYourangertosubside.Abel littleAbel,whofollowedmearoundlikeashadow, stillunskilledwiththebutcher’sknife yelpedinfrightaslightningstreakedthroughthe skies,histonguefrozenstiffandunabletocontinuepraying.Iwrappedmybrotherinmy ownblanketandpulledhimclosetomyside,coveringhisearswithmyownhandssothat hewouldnothearthestorm. I’m here, Isaidtohim. I’m here, and there is nothing to be afraid of. I will protect you. I can pray enough for the both of us.
Aplea:YearsIspent,backbentunderthescorchingsun,plowingthefieldsand sowingseeds,coaxinglifefromnothing.Iwasproudofmywork howcouldInotbe?But forYou,itwasnotenough. I wasnotenough. Why was I not enough?
Intheend,Isettledwithataunt:“AmImybrother’skeeper?”
MotherandFatherhavetoldmestoriesofYourwrath.Iknewtofearit.
Mybrother,forallthebloodthatstainedhim,wasakind-heartedchild.Icouldseeit inthewayhecaredforhisflock.Howhealwaystriestocalmananimalbeforehegivesita quick,cleandeath.
IfIaskedforit,hewouldgivemehisforgiveness. So,Lord,Iwillnotapologizeforthis.
AMEN
The Moon 1
By Ani Aparicio
By Elaina Gonzalez
Amanita Muscaria
Regrowth
By Elaina Gonzalez
Amanitaranherfingersoverhermushroomcrown,caressingitsfungalrim. Myceliumspreadbeneaththegroundasshewalked.Thenaturegoddessindulgedin hersolitude,thisquietforestshecalledonlyhers.Shefoundsolaceinthebudding mushroomsdispersedamongthesmallerplants,herfavorites;theyevenlookedlike her.
“Hello?”
Silenceshattered.Shewhippedaroundtofacethewoodsbehindher.A humanpeakedoutfromthetreeswithanexpressionlikefearandawe.Amanita staredincredulouslyatthesmallchild,whoseemedtodisappearinthedarkforage ofthetalloaks.
“Hello,youngone,”shehesitantlygreetedthechild.Shecouldn’tkeepthe surpriseoutofhervoice,finallymanaging,“Youmaycomeforth.”
Thechildbashfullysteppedoutfromtheshadows.Amanitaobservedthe child’sclothes,reasoningthatshemustbeavillager.Buthow?Noonefromthe villagehadvisitedherinmanyyears.Shefeltapangofresentmentbutknewthat thechildhadnothingtodowiththepast.
Despiteherdefensiveness,shecouldn’thelpbutfeelawarmendearment towardsthesmallvisitor.Hearthopeful,shebeckonedherforwardagainwitha subtlenod.
ThegirlhesitantlyplacedonebootontoAmanita’sterritory.SeeingAmanita stillsmiling,thevillagertookcarefulsteps,stoppingseveralfeetaway.
“Ineed My , “thechildstuttered.Hereyesglimmered.Sherestarted,“My nameisTallulah.Howdoyoudo?”
Amanitafoughttheurgetolaugh,amusedbythegirl’sformalities.“Iamwell. Howareyou?”
TensionreleasedfromTallulah’sshoulders.“I’mgood well,Imean,”she correctedherself.Ashortsilence.“But…mymomissick,andI’mreallyworried abouther.”
Amanitanoddedsolemnly.ShefiguredthatTallulahhadcomeforhealing; therewasnootherreasonavillagerwouldcometoher,especiallyafterwhathad happened.Still,shewassurprisedbythefactthatthehumanshadsentamerechild intoherrealm,especiallyonsomeoneelse’sbehalf.
“Iknowyouprobablydon’twanttoseeme,muchlesshelpme,”Tallulah continued,wordsspillingout.“I’veheardwhatgrown-upssayaboutyou,Amanita,
howyoupoisonedusandrefusedtohelp.ButIneverbelievedthem.Theynevertell meeverything.Andplus,Ithinkyou’rebetterthanthat.Kinder.”Shestoppedtotake adeepbreath,releasingitwithasigh.“AndIunderstandifyouwantmetoleave.I’ll goandnevercomeback…Butpleasehelpmymom.Shedoesn’tdeservetodie.”
AmanitastaredintoTallulah’seyes.Shesawpainanddesperationfarbeyond thechild’syears.Despiteherobviousyouth,herbodysaggedwiththeweightoflong daysandnights.Amanitaswiftlybentdown,pickingoutabouquetofspotted mushrooms.
“Takethis,”shesaid,voicesoothinglikesummerair.“Igrewthemmyself.”
Thevillagertookthegiftgratefully,expressionfulloftrust.
“Donoteatthem,”Amanitaemphasized.“Youmustboilthemintoteainorder toextracttheirhealingproperties.Itmaybeatad…bitter...”Sheglancedatthe groundapologetically,asifashamed.“Butitwillhelp.”
Tallulahnoddedeagerly,eyeswideassheabsorbedtheinstructionsintoher memory.Shethankedthehealerprofusely.Withanod,Amanitabegantobidher farewell.
“Wait!”Tallulahinterjected.“Istilldon’tunderstand.”
Amanitastopped.Thetwostoodstill.
Tallulahspokeagain.“You’rereallynice,andI’mthankfulforyourhelp morethanyouknow.But…whydidyoukillallthosevillagers?Andwhydidyou refuseusyourmedicineforalltheseyears?Whataboutmyparents–theywerejust children andtheirparents,gone…”Shetrailedoff.
Theworldwaseerilyquiet.Amanitatookasteptowardsthegirl,andTallulah gasped,fearingtheconsequencesofheroutburst.
Butnothinghappened.Amanita’slipsformedasadsmile.“Ihelpedyour peopleformanygenerations,”shespokeafterwhatseemedlikeminutesoftense silence.“Iwasfaithfultothem.Always...But,eventually,theygrewtiredofwaiting formyhealingmushroomstogrow.Theydecidedtoinvademygarden,myhome, andtakewhatlittleIhad.”Shepaused,lookingoverhercolorfulfield.Sheinhaled, seeminginpain.
“Itriedtostopthem,buttheywouldn’tlisten.Iwarnedthemthatmy creations theywerenotready.Butthepeoplekepton.Theytoreandrampaged untilthiswholefieldwasbarren.Iran.
WhenIreturneddayslater,therewasnolifetobefound.”Acrystalwhitetear sliddownhercheek.“Ittookmuchtimetoregrowwhattheyhadstolen.”
Shewassilentforagoodwhile.“Myheartachedformycreation,buteven moreforthevillagepeople.Theyhadeatentheplantsastheyleft,andIknewthat theyhadsurelydiedwithinminutes.”Moretearsfell.“Butitwastoolate...”
Theystoodforwhatseemedlikehours.Thewindhadstopped,andeventhe grassseemedtostagnateintime.Amanita’sexpressionhadchanged,buthereyes staredintonothingness.Theskyhadfallenintoalifelessgrey,cloudshanging heavilyovertheforest.
“I’msorry,”thechildsaid.“That’sreallyawful…”Tearshadalsogatheredin theyounggirl’seyes.Herpeoplehaddonewrong;evenatheryoungage,Tallulah understoodthefearthegoddessmusthavefeltinthatmoment.“It’snotyourfault.”
Amanitablinkedather,takenaback.Andthenshelaughed.Itwasalow,quiet laughter,butonethatrangofrelief,nonetheless.Tallulahlookedconfused,causing thegoddesstolaughevenmore.
“Thankyou,Tallulah,”Amanitanearlywhispered.Shetookthegirl’ssmall handsinherown,herredhuescontrastingwiththehumanskin.ToTallulah,she wasglowingwithbeauty.
“Gohomeandbewell.”Amanitareleasedthechildandturnedtowalkaway. Tallulahdidnotmovebutstaredatthehealer’sformasshedeparted.Herwhite frecklesblendedinwiththediversenaturearoundthem;yethermysticalbeauty andpowerwerestriking.
“Nita,”Tallulahraisedhervoice.“CanIvisityouagainsometime?”
Amanitadidnotturnaround,butTallulahheardthesmileinherreply.“Yes, youngone.”
Tallulahmomentarilystudiedthemushroomsinherhands.Shebriefly thoughttheywereglowing,too.Whenshelookedup,Amanitawasgone. Allthat remainedwasatrailofspeckledredmushroomsburstingfromthegroundina joyfulspiritofgrowth.
The Moon 2
By Ani Aparicio
Why Do It Then?
By Jaron Batiste
Ispitoutthebileintothetoiletoncemore,mystomachnowwhollyemptied.I waitforthestarsdancinginmyvisiontosubsidebeforerisingfrommykneesoff thebathroomfloor.Mythroatwasburningfromtheresurfacedstomachbile.Iturn thehotwaterhandleonthebathroomsink,lettingthefaucetrun.
Ilookdownatmyhandsandseeafreshcutatthebaseofmyindexand middlefingers,nodoubtfrommyfrontteeth.Iquicklyscrubthemcleanwithsoap, carefultoavoidthethincut.
Imakethemistakeoflookinginthemirror.
Itseyeswerebloodshot,withtheundereyesdarkened,sunken,andhollow likeashallowgrave.Littlespecsofvomitcouldbeseeninthefrontsectionofwhat littlehairwasleftonitsscalp.Itslipswereredandsore,theskincrackedand flakingoff.Itscomplexionwaspale,withitsbrowntonesalmostfadedaway.Itsskin wasloose,drapingovertheboneslikethecloakoftheReaperhimself.Thething staringbackatmewasnothingbutahusk.Amacabreandghastlyinterpretationof whatahumanbeingwassupposedtobe.
Atfirst,IassumeI’mhallucinating.Irubmyeyesandgazeintothemirror again.It’sstillthere.“Whatareyou?”Ifinallywhisper,throatscratchy. “Don’tyouknow?”thereflectionrepliestomysurprise.Itsvoicewascrunchy, almostasifitsvocalcordswereshredded.
Ishakemyheadinconfusion.Hetiltshishead.“Takeacloserlook.”
Eventhoughitpainedme,Ireexaminedhim.HewaitedpatientlyasIlooked overeverysectionofhisbody.Inoticedthefadedidenticalscarsrunningalongboth hisankles.
Mybrowsfurrowed.Itcouldn’tbe.
Myeyesshottohisface,scanningoverhischeeks,andmybloodran coldasIsawthem:thefaintimpressionoftally mark-shapedscarsunderbothofhiseyes. “You’re…me?”Iwasincompletedisbelief. Hesmiles.That’swhenInoticethedamage withinhismouth.Severalteethweremissing,and whatlittleoneswereleftwerestaineddarkyellow, withcracksrunningthroughthemandspotsof black.
“Whatdoyouthink?”heasksinthemostmonotonewaypossible.Howwas hesocalm?Howwasheeven speaking?Hedoesaspin,almost flaunting thepure horrorofmy– his body.
“Whatthehellhappenedtoyou?”Partofmewasafraidtoknowtheanswer. Itwasnowhisturntostareatme,confused.
“Don’tyoulikeournewlook?This–,”hegesturesoncemoretohimself,“ –is everythingthatyou’vebeenworkingtowardssince intermediate school.Thisis whatyouwant,right?”
Theresponseshakesme,tosaytheleast.Itrattlesmetomycore,andhesees it.Adevilishsmirkplaysonhislips.
“That’snot…you’renot…”MywordsfumbleinmymouthasItrytoargue.
Heholdsupahandtostopme.“Saveit.Youcan’tbullshitme.I am you.”
“Likehellyouare!”Isnapback,butmyvoicecracks.
“Fine.Wouldyouratherbe that?”Hepointsatmyownbodyratherthan himself.“Justlookingatyouismakingmesick.”
Istareathimincredulously.Icouldfeelthetearswellingupbehindmyeyes, butIheldthemin.
“I’mfinethewayIam,”Iliethroughmyteeth,avoidinghisgaze.
“Isthatso?Thenexplainthat?”Hepointstothetoilet.“Doessomeonethat’s ‘fine’withwhattheylooklikegofull-onExorcistaftereverymeal?”Heplaceshis twopointerfingersinsidehismouthandmimicsvomiting.
Ihatethathe’sright.Butitdoesbegthequestion.WhyamIdoingthis?
Yes,thesatisfactionasIseeeverypounddropfromthescaleisrefreshingbut isitnothingbutafalsevictory?Atemporarysenseofjoyfollowedbytheinevitable feelingofdisappointmentasthecyclecontinues?
Alie?
Andallforwhat?ThedreamsofnothavingapanicattackwhenI’mforcedto eatinfrontofpeople?Ortonothavetodeprivemyselfofmealsthroughoutthe week?Tonothavetoignorethegrowingresentmenttowardsmyfriendsfor wantingtogoclothesshoppingandthembeingabletowalkoutwithsomethingin theirsizes?OrnothavingtospendentirepaychecksthroughonlineshoppingsoI canhavetherighttoclothesthatactuallyfitmybody?Orfacetheembarrassment andshameinpublicplaceswhenI’mtoldIgoabovetheweightlimit?Toavoid gettingtoldI’m“eating”toomuchatfamilydinnersorthatgod-awfullook-overthat mybodygetswhentheyhaven’tseenmeinlongperiods.Tonothavetodealwith mybodyslowly(butsurely)disintegratingbeforeIevenhithalfwaythroughmy twenties?
TonothavethefearthatI’llforeverbealonebecauseofwhatIlooklike?To nothavetoresorttofruitlessandtemporarymomentsofblisstofeelloved?Tofeel seen?
Hesmiles,believinghe’swon.“That’swhatIthought.”Hebeginstolaugh,his voicecrackingandtheraspinessreminiscentofawitch’scackle.Myhateforhim buildsup,andmybodystartstoshakewithrage.IsthisreallywhatIbecome? SomeonesoobsessedwiththesepossibilitiesthatI’mwillingtoharmmyselftothe biggestextreme?
Igivehimonelastlookbeforeturningonthefaucet.HewatchesasIwashmy faceoff,hisdeadeyescoldandcalculating.Ibeginbrushingmyteeth.“Sonowwhat? You’rejustgoingtoignoreme?”
IpretendnottohearhimasIgrabmytowelfromthesinkcounteranddryoff myfaceandmouth.Iturntoleave,reachingforthelightswitch.“Youcan’tgetridof me,youknow.I’llalwaysbehere.”
Thetoneofhisvoicetakesmebysurprise. Thearrogantconfidencewasno longerthere.Hiswordswerefilledwithapangofsadness.
Ipauseforasecond,butIstillfacethedoor.“Iknow.”
Iflickofftheswitchandshutthedoorbehindme,sealingawaythereflection intothedark.
Lost
By Daedrian Lipscomb
Iwakeupsmilingeverysinglemorningbecauseofthistall,handsomemanwholies nexttome,Brent.IwentfromlovingsomeonewhoIthoughtIwouldbewithforthe restofmylifetodespisingthegroundhewalkson.Hedevelopedfroma“tenderhearted”soultoacontrolling,abusive,andmanipulativemonster.Thismanadored ourdaughter,Emerald,whenshewasborn,butnow,hecouldcarelessaboutwhat happenstoher.Shebuiltthecouragetoaskme,“Mama,whydoesn’tDaddyloveme anymore?”Thesearethewordsthataseven-year-oldchildshouldneverutteroutof theirmouth.I’verecentlydiscoveredIameightweekspregnantwithoursecond child,andI’mterrified.I’vehadenough.IfearthatnomatterwhereIgo,Iwillnever beabletoescapethepresencethatis…himself.Ican’timagineraisingEmeraldor myunbornchildinabuildingthatentrapsmonstrosity;ifthesewallscouldtalk, theywouldforcethemselvestobequiet,fearingthatmoreholeswouldbe embeddedwithinthem.Iregretbeingastay-at-homemomforEmeraldduringthe firstfouryearsofherlife;Icould’veusedthattimetoworkandsavemoneyforour futuredeparture.IknowI’mnotpsychic.But,ifIhadknownIwasgoingtoendup withamanwhowouldcausemepain,Iwould’vestayedfarawayfromhim.Iwake upsmilingbecauseIknowthisabusewillnotlastlong.Thesewallswilleventually talk,andtheywillreleasethesoul–asoulthatisenthralledwiththebodyofBrent.
