The Levee

THE LEVEE

Rio Americano High School

Away Alexandra Lehrer

Editors:

Josephine Jett

Logan Swain

Zenith Rodriguez

Madison Burt

Jocelyn Biedler

Genevieve Ferrera

Elise Moffat

Sickening Shadow of the Past

Cody Rittenhouse

The bright glare of the laptop bore into Lance's eyes. Beside him laid papers and folders strewn about his desk His eyes burned, he’d been up for so long, but he didn’t care

All his life, he'd been curious, but he'd never dug as he did now She was gone now, but Lance’s grief was overtaken by insatiable curiosity, a hunger for more knowledge, more connections, more family. He had to know his history. Where his mother came from. She’d been all he had.

Leaning back in his chair and grasping his hair, he sighed. Almost there. He cast a glance at the list of surnames he’d compiled for investigation. The next one was “Byrne” Begrudgingly, he entered it into the database and ran a search, then began scrolling through the results

Too old, too young, died too soon, wrong hair colour He was looking for his grandmother, seen only once as she dropped her baby off. She was recounted as having honey blonde hair, fair skin, and freckles peppered across her face.

As fortune would have it, his scrolling led him to the profile of a woman who fit the description. Caitlín Byrne.

His breath hitched It had to be a coincidence

Inhaling slowly, he regained his composure before clicking on her profile His eyes immediately darted to the details of her death Sure enough, she’d died shortly after his mother was dropped off, and nearby

No… It couldn’t be her, he refused to believe that he’d found her. His mind grew light and foggy as he skimmed over her information. She had a brother. He could read about him to distract himself.

“Arthur Byrne ” Lance muttered, trying to bring himself back to the moment. Born and raised in Ireland, worked as a robotics engineer, and never had a spouse or children. How bland. Perhaps his death would

What?

Arthur’s car had exploded. Lance felt his stomach twist. That didn’t just… happen. He read further. There were no murder suspects. A rush of nausea overcame him as he read that the man ’ s body hadn’t been recovered He wanted to look away but found himself glued to the image of his great uncle He had medium brown hair, like his mother's, glasses, and deep blue eyes He held a sort of melancholy about him, something in those eyes felt empty and his smile seemed wrong.

Lance felt… a connection with him. They were both lost, left alone in the world he could feel it. A desire to know this man bubbled within. To know what secrets he kept behind his mask, what lonely existence he led. He glanced down at himself, and only then did he notice that he was trembling.

He knew they were family But that wasn’t the worst of it, it was the way he was Lance covered his face in disbelief the way he died was so violent They couldn’t even find a recognizable scrap of his body That that was horrifying And, if they were so similar, who was to say the same couldn’t happen to him?

Combined, the need to know Arthur personally and the image of his death made Lance’s heart race and stomach churn. He couldn’t take it.

Hastily spinning his chair, he leaned over the rubbish bin beside him and vomited.

Mountain Lakes of Kintsugi

there's something about the way He paints his world prussian and phthalo blue

I wouldn't know how his hands imitate the image in his mind He uses colors and textures I use words and rhymes

He told me that I shouldn't think about the imperfections when I create what's mine and it made me realize why I love to write

in any haze distracted I can find the abstraction of worlds combined traveling in and out of ones created past and further composing of a new imagination; like blending blunt lines of indigo

and in that ocean of Venus' Aphrodite which He paints with blues and crimsons of time present and time past

I’ll then understand why his mountains reminded me of Kintsugi they weren't perfect, they were just happy living for the day as it was strongly mended together with soft golden tones as if moved and carved gently by the hands of God, as if their flaws were intended to be so beautiful

Ariana Baratzadeh

Hanna Hodges

Jack Ormsby

weet Sorrow

ie M Johnson

slow creaks of gymnasium bleachers echo he walls “ She was a loving friend, a derful daughter ” Low murmuring and t cries are barely heard over the feedback of microphone. “Hailey’s untimely death is ething that will stick with all of us... ” mely. I fight to stifle back a laugh. When is h not untimely? And even so, how was ey ’ s not the most predictable of all? She had exactly the way she wanted to, but of se no one here will say that.

w that she’s gone let us not remember how passed, but rather how she lived ” Of se they want to remember her the way they her, a bright shining beacon of positivity, golden curls that could be seen from the n Blessed with shining jade eyes that were fortable, and welcoming If only they knew many nights she spent drowning in tears, matted with neglect, eyes red and sunken. nights I’d sit with her, and force her to k happy thoughts and wait for her to smile.

y wanted her to be perfect. Not some other querading socialite whose deepest feelings never accounted for. But that's all that she been, and now, all she'll ever be. Maybe I’d it more sad if it wasn't so predictable I k back to all of their faces being plastered shock Her parents' faces, chock-full of fied stupefaction Fleeting emotions of guilt regret flying across their features But that dn't be their Hailey Another high school stic? This week's big story? One of many spaper articles plagued with fleeting ficance? A sob story and an excuse. Another ed laugh. If only they knew.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I invite you to sit with me in a moment of silence to honor Hailey’s passing.” The bleachers creak again as hundreds of sullen bodies adjust to the loud echo of an

Ranim Hijazi

ever imposing end. When the silence is over we stand, and I can finally go back to English. It’s unbearable, and vaguely ignorant truthfully, for as many people as walk these halls to pretend they ever cared. To entertain themselves with the idea that they would have ever understood. I was the one who was there. I helped her out of her darkest days I'm the one who talked her off the edge oh-so-many times before the one that would claim her But, of course, no one cares about the times you almost die

I look at my teacher as we enter the room She seems heavy with guilt, almost dripping with it Her boney frame looks more frigid and tired than usual.

“I know today is tough so, until you are dismissed, I'll finish reading aloud the next few pages of Romeo and Juliet as you relax at your desks. And, again, remember, if you ever need to talk about anything I'm always here,” she says with a pained smile.

A tale of two desperate lovers clinging to the hope of one day being together, only to kill themselves from the disappointment of their true fate? Seems light enough She opens the book and begins to read We’re only a few pages in when she says that famed line, “Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow. ” It never ceases to compel me, how comfortable we are putting off for our futures the things we wish to happen today. Especially when said “tomorrow” is never promised. In fact, I find it irritating how secure everyone is with the notion. What great philosophical meaning does another day bring that each moment doesn't? It's unfortunate, disgusting even, for anyone to assume that another day will bring them new hope rather than greater hopelessness Shakespeare may have understood love, but what he did not understand is, the only continuity is the “sweet sorrow ”

rethink the events of today. A morning loudspeaker announcement to commemorate Hailey, a seemingly endless series of drawn out, needless lectures recounting her passing, and yet another hopeless attempt to ease teenage despair in the form of an afternoon memorial assembly. The continued futile attempts at further prevention, at this point, are entirely too unbearable to endure Where was this solidarity when they met her eyes in the hallway or saw her tear-soaked jacket sleeves? Or when her grades declined and she had to quit soccer? What about when her weight dropped and she was out for weeks? They didn't notice then, not so much as a phone call. Because I was her best friend. Sure we aren't as close as when we were kids but I was still the one who knew her better than any of them. She could always count on me to keep her secrets, to listen to her cry and tell her “it will be alright.”

The crosswalk light changes and I make my way across the street. It's a hot spring day in our town, yet I feel a growing sense of numbness begin to swallow me whole The gradual effects of the day slowly creeping in and creating a pool in my stomach The wind pulls at my hair and a chill like ice water settles over me

My thoughts chase after me as I walk up the street. With feet like bricks I walk towards my house as it slowly comes into view. Flowers lay at the door, a pitiful gesture, yet an unfamiliar feeling fills me still. Not quite sadness, and not far off from remorse. The front hallway is full with the scent of decaying blossoms and the weight of messy apologies. Written letters cover the dining room table, unopened. Pity melts into a shallow pool of sympathy as I realize the pile has doubled since the morning, yet sympathy is still an unwelcome feeling

The bell rings and the same sullen bodies rise once again. On the walk home I have time to

“The arrangements have been made and she’ll be ready for you by the morning,” I hear an aged voice murmur Similarly broken and tired figures utter their appreciation as the shadowy figure walks back through the living room and out the front door. As soon as the door is closed heavy

cries and cursed apologies fill the house. Dull conversations filled with ‘I-know’s and ‘It-willbe-okay’s haunt me and take the air out of my lungs. The intense sense of familiarity is suffocating.

I leave the hallway and open the door to my room where more bouquets and letters await me All addressed with the same name, all likely

reading the same words. Vague apologies to ease their own emotions. Small interactions overblown into beautiful exchanges and communications of true friendship. Gifts from people whom I didn't know, and who never knew me. Selfishly, they all felt they needed to use me as an excuse to ease their own subconscious Assuring themselves they did all they could while simultaneously doing nothing at all It's almost equally humorous and depressing how performative it all feels Even still, I begin to read the letters my parents have set across my bed, taped to the mirror, and tacked to the walls

And yet, as I read, a slow and painful realization overtakes me. These letters are genuine in their regret. Lost acquaintances and past friends truly feel responsible for what's happened. As fruitless as their attempts are now, I've started to see how affected they all are, and how very little of it is, in fact, for show. I step away from their words, a new realization washing over me. Have I made a mistake? Was I wrong? Had I in some way assumed something about them that wasn't true? The idea is almost as agonizing as the reality The reality that I was, in fact, loved

Slow and hesitant steps towards the vanity mirror bring me only further to a girl I want nothing more than to stop hearing about. Her shiny blonde curls are almost beautiful enough to distract me from her sunken features. Her gleaming green eyes are almost mesmerizing enough to hide the dejection they hold. I take a step forward and lean against the dresser, searching for a clue to who we had been, and she does the same. And then, just for a second, behind the fragile stature and matted hair, the red eyes flooded with tears, I could see the girl I too had once loved

Alexandra Lehrer

Luna Young

These days it feels like time is slipping away too fast Blink, and I’ve missed the fall leaves

Snooze my alarm, and I’ve missed the flowers on the plum tree bloom (maybe I’m too sentimental, but)

Sometimes it feels like the only way to hold on to it all a little longer Is to look at the sky and pretend it’s the first time I’ve ever seen it

REVISED FINAL SCREENPLAY

Nicholas Katz

Narrator: Howdy show with an ol’ it came to desse didn’t start out the show!

Narrator: Our st [crowd noises]

Stranger: I’ll t [crowd noises en

Bartender: Comin [tap noises]

Bartender: Here

Stranger: Thanks

Bartender: Mind

Stranger: If I’m

Bartender: Is it [mumbling from c

Stranger: Yeah

Al: Thief!

Clint: Thief?

N t Th

Stranger: Well, you aske

Narrator: The stranger o

Dora: ¡Soy libre! Hola,

Clint: What the hell?

Al: Now what in tarnatio

Stranger: Ask it.

Bartender: Looks like a

Dora: ¡Tengo seis años!

Al: What’s that mean? I

Clint: Think it’s sayin’

Dora: Si!

Al: An’ how mightcha kno

Clint: Spent some time down south. Far south.

Narrator: Dora then faced the nearby wall and started speaking to seemingly no-one. As she spoke, some objects in the bar started to glow.

Al: Why, that ain’t no ordinary kid! She magic!

Clint: Who was she talkin’ to?

Bartender: Where’d ya find this kid, stranger?

Stranger: Funniest thing, really… I was out over in the shooting range in a lil’ town seven miles that way [points a random direction] an’ I found ‘er.

Dora: Have you seen Boots?

Stranger: No, I haven’t, and I don’ know why ya keep askin’.

Dora: Boots es mi mejor amigo!

Stranger: I know that. Ya already dun and told me that for the pas’ six hours.

Bartender: So why come here after finding her?

Stranger: I ain’t got much use for ‘er. Plus she talks too darn much. ‘An not to me either. Makin’ things glow ‘n all that. Hopin’ one of ya might be willin’ to raise ‘er, or at least take ‘er off my ‘ands.

Bartender: Nah, no kids for me. I can't conceive.

Stranger: That don't make no sense, but alright… anyone else?

Narrator: The room fell silent. Would anyone take Dora? Find out after this commercial break!

[ad] *Smash Mouth -

Ad Narrator: It’s a

Kid 1: I’m thirsty!

Kid 2: It’s so hot!

Kid 1: Let’s check

Kid 1: There's noth

Kid 2: Orange juice

Ad Narrator: Squeez

Both Kids: WOW!

Ad Narrator: Just p in seconds!

Yeti: That’s RAD!

Ad narrator: Squeez

Kid 1: Chocolate mi

Kid 2: Root Beer!

Yeti: ARCTIC FREEZE

Both Kids: Woaaaahh

Ad Narrator: Slushy

Ad Narrator: No cub and it turns into a

Yeti: SLUSH-A-LICIO

Ad Narrator: You ca beat!

Kid 1: Frozen fruit

Ad Narrator: Sure!

Kid 2: How about an

Ad Narrator: Any fl

Kid 1: [sipping noi

Ad Narrator: All do one!

Yeti: SQUEEZY FREEZ

Ad Narrator: Order kit comes with the spoon straw! All yo

Yeti: YETIS NOT INCLUDED.

Ad Narrator: And if you c can share the arctic fun

Yeti: COOL!

[end of ad]

Stranger: I don’ wanna do

Bartender: Who’ll take th

Dora: Soy de un programa

Al: There it goes again!

Stranger: Says she ain’t

Al: Children’s show? By g

Clint: I’ll take ‘er!

Bartender: Really, Clint?

Al: ‘ey, I was speakin’!

Stranger: Fine by me.

Bartender: How come?

Clint: No wife [looks down] can’t conceive figgered I needed someone to love in this life. May as well be this here kid.

Dora: ¡Gracias, señor!

Clint: You’re god-darn welcome. Come here!

Narrator: Dora ran over to Clint and hugged him. The stranger’s business at my saloon was finished.

Stranger: Welp, looks like my business ‘ere is finished. Y’all’re quite alright, I tell ya what. Might come back around sometime. ‘Till next time!

Bartender: ‘ey, wait a second! What’s yer name, stranger?

Stranger: My name?....Sid. So long!

Al: Sid? That’s a stupid name. Wait, didn’t he kidnap that kid?

All except Sid and Al: AL!

Leigh Taylor

The Greenhouse

Alexandra Lehrer

I saunter inside and take a deep br

At first there’s a breeze, a natural g Right away there is light, no sign of A cleansing of wounds, the halter o

The walls of green, so neat and com The plants that wave in random pla I look at the beauty from my idle se But feel to be drawn in, as if from t

I turn every pot and flip every leaf, Examining the flowering buds, Even crooked stems cause me disb How can a mess be so cleansing wi

Varieties of plants and shades of co Arrangements that bring me swell y The sunlight flows through the lay Yet the shadows hold the real truth

A face of beauty and energy so pur

The life inside gives me peace, With all of my flaws I am undoubte That our connection will only incre

The growing room gives room to gr For that I am utterly grateful, My green room makes sure I know, To each other, we are painfully faithful

Hanna Hodges

Why Does Death Look So Pretty

Jessica Gonzalez

There's nothing worse than being three hours early for a flight. The feeling of existentialism sits next to you in the most uncomfortably designed chairs some idiot in Venus thought up in his head I haven't even mentioned that this spaceport is also one of the first models ever built, so the ship’s quality is not good I would rather be in an airport grounded on Earth instead of this spaceship that can barely stay afloat I glanced at the bulky coal-colored watch on my left arm. ‘At least ten minutes have passed,’ I naively thought before seeing that only two had gone by. I made a mindful conversation with myself, to pass the time.

‘Maybe I should grow out my black hair so that I can have a sleek man bun, ditch the glasses… nah. I like my glasses, even though my wife tells me that I look better without them because she can see my aquamarine eyes better ’

What I should do is sit up straight instead of making my posture worse than it already is This whole time, my eyes haven’t left the spaceport’s clear walls, revealing the spectacle we call The Solar System Earth absorbed the spotlight, almost outshining other stars and planets on set. I haven’t been on my planet in such a long time, but she looked beautiful. I would call Earth the loveliest rock in the solar system, but that would be a lie, it's Callisto. Saturn is always praised for its accessorized rings but if you take them away then people would find Pluto interesting again.

I can talk about Callisto for days: she’s Jupiter’s icy moon, powdered with freckle-like craters all over her surface Everyone calls Callisto Jupiter's dead moon, but she’s very much alive in my heart

spaceport’s announcer is digging her own casket with the husky voice she has.

I pulled my navy blue backpack from under the stiff chair and slid its leather straps on my shoulders. This bag looks and weighs like a cinder block. My watch’s alarm to board vibrated. The screen lit up:

13:20

August 30

3037

Today is the three-year anniversary that Earth and Mars engaged in the “Resource War” I'm an active soldier for Earth and being deployed today for the third time

Humans from Earth made a living on Mars in 3003, but would not share any resources they found useful. Earth threatened to attack Mars for years, but Mars attacked first, using one 38RJ, a bomb that wiped out Japan in seconds. That started the war. Ever since, both planets have been fighting and abusing weapons nonstop.

In July of this year, I fled to Jupiter, an ally planet Once all troops from Earth entered a flight to Mars, I boarded another landing on Jupiter It disgusted me that I had gotten so used to murdering humans My fellow troops beheaded innocent people and complained about getting “Mars blood” on their skin Jupiter found me eight hours ago at a hotel and is now sending me back to Earth. It’s kind of my fault they found me because I paid with a credit card saying I was in Earth’s space force.

“Now Boarding craft 383 for Earth at section 1 ” If anything in this solar system is dead, this

“Hey, can you move up?” a woman's voice asked. I twitch after feeling the heat of her breath tickle my ear. Up ahead, there’s a sizable gap between me and the next person. I quickly

fill in the space.

“My bad,” I apologized.

The woman who whispered in my ear was wearing a black jumpsuit that hugged her curved features, cherry red boots and a thick belt in that same sweet shade Her best feature is the softlooking hair bursting from her scalp The cotton candy hair was licorice black, the same color as her upturned eyes but darker than her tootsieroll skin There was so much candy goodness, the sweetness hid her shoulders entirely

“What plans do you have on Earth?” she asked.

“Visiting some friends, not much.”

Even though this woman is insanely beautiful, I can't tell her I'm fighting for Earth. Many undercover spies are sent from Mars, so I can’t disclose any information to anyone regarding Earth.

“Oh that's nice I had a friend from Earth as well,” she added

“Really? Which country do they live in?”

“She’s dead ”

“That sucks. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You’re fine.”

The woman looked to her left where passengers were boarding, creating a silence between the two of us.

When saying this, the lady grinned, almost as if we never brought up her friend’s passing.

“Nice! Which ” BAM

My body was hurled to the other side of the ship and my head made direct contact A dog whistle pitch infested my ears while falling on the ground Sight and sound became hazy, my limbs were glued to the ground Lights flashed, sirens screamed, yet I wanted to sleep more than anything

A burning itch struck my left cheek. My senses and energy rebounded, bringing me to my feet. Crouched down where I laid was the lady. The smoke covering my eyes cleared, allowing me to see the thick blood rolling down her surprised face.

Crowds circled around the glass walls, dropping to their knees and pounding the floor with emotion My toes rushed over to an empty spot I lightly embraced the glass with my hands, feeling a slimy consistency when contacting its surface My hands retreated, what remained was two hand marks painted with blood A cream colored rock gently tapped against the glass in between my handprints. When figuring out the source of this rock, I wanted to drop to my knees too.

Earth had just exploded.

‘I must have hit a soft spot’ went through my mind after enduring this awkward silence for one minute That minute felt like ten, but my watch proved me wrong again

“Why are you going to Earth?” came out of my mouth The lady’s Hershey’s eyes met mine

“I'm going to a concert.”

The planet was there a second ago, now she’s been dispersed into millions of pieces. I faintly heard people all over screaming from the bottom of their intestines. A woman next to me was hysterically sobbing and didn’t have the strength to hold herself up

Everyone I love is dead, my home is dead, a part of me is dead But why does death look pretty?

Kailey Billeci

Earth looked so far away a moment ago, but pieces of my planet were now so close. I could see every part of Earth.

I could see parts of buildings waltz with the stars.

I could see pieces of wood swaying together in the lively banquet

I could see layers of rocks twirling by the window

I reached for a piece of rock through the glass to join in on the soiree, but my bloodstained hands couldn't make contact. I wish I could.

I wish I could hold death in my hands, smell it, taste it.

More and more people shrieked and cried once realizing Earth had passed. I surveyed my reflection in between the bloody hand marks. The grandest smile was smeared across my face.

That's all I remember The room I’m in is black and I feel my left hand handcuffed to a pole I can move my arm up and down but can't pull away From the distant whirring and scent of metal, I imagine I'm on a spaceship I have definitely been kidnapped.

The ship roughly swerved to the left, throwing my head against the pole so aggressively I almost passed out.

“Whoever is steering this, you are a terrible pilot,” I yelled once my senses stabilized.

“Shut up!” A woman ’ s voice yelled back.

THUMP

From how rigorous the ship's movement was, this woman ran into a rock The perfect timing brought a laugh out of me

“I’m just stating the obvious, no need to be

rude,” I added on. Angry footsteps were coming my way.

A door swung open, pure brightness struck my eyes. As it turns out, I was stuck in a closet. Beside my foot, a dead rat lay on its back. Seeing the dead rodent made me throw up in my mouth My vision was still adjusting, but I recognized the silhouette of the woman appearing from the light

“Hey, you ’ re the lady from the airport!”

I was excited to see her face again, but she gave me a look of disgust saying the complete opposite.

“Please clean your ship if you plan on having guests over, that's disgusting,” I said, pointing out the rat. The lady looked down, and then at me.

“It’s not that hard. Just pick it up by the tail and ”

Before I could finish that sentence, the lady kicked me in between my legs I clenched my teeth and squinted my eyes from the pain After a couple seconds, my eyes watered

“Mr. Beck, you are now on my ship, so I'm not going to let you bad-mouth or disrespect me any more than you already have,” she yelled before pushing against my right cheek with her heels.

“Who are you?” I muttered underneath her shoe. She scoffed before moving her boot away from my face.

“You truly don’t know who I am?”

“If I knew who you were I wouldn’t have asked the damn question!” She dug her heel into my untouched cheek

“I am Nova, a proud representative of Mars On September 26, 3036 you and your men infiltrated the north region of CHI578, my

home. You murdered everyone that I loved mercilessly and dare to call yourself a hero. I watched on television as you and your men were given medals for murdering my people. Today, I rejoice because your planet is dead and none of your people are here to praise you anymore. I am taking you to where you killed our people and executing you on my planet ” I can see her take a huge breath of air after delivering that speech She pulled her leg away from my face and stared at me, expecting an answer

“Nova, I am so sorry about your family, but I am even more sorry for what's about to happen to you. ”

With that out of the way, I broke the handcuff off my arm by pulling fast and hard against the pole. Using my right leg, I pushed Nova out of the way and ran to the left of her ship. The second she opened the door, I spotted an escape pod in that direction. That’s my only way out of here, and I don’t even know if it works

Nova kicked me in the back, but my hands stopped me from hitting the ground My hands bounced back, then were used to punch her in the stomach and throw her on the floor I never hurt women, but she started it My legs ran as fast as they could towards the escape pod, but I was hit in the head with something before going in.

Both my head and body turned cold before falling on the metal floor. Nova began walking back to the closet, aggressively grabbing me by my arms. Looking back, she had hit me with a glass panel used for a ship windshield. Blood was raining out my nose. Despite being hurt and tired, there’s no way I'm going in that ratinfested closet

“NO!” Nova screamed through the drifting escape pod.

My accomplishment left me with a look of satisfaction, but I wasn’t done yet. By using the ship’s control panel, I was able to fly away. Then, I activated the weapons and exploded the escape pod, but it looked disgusting A sea of red invaded the privacy of space ’ s blue hues A waterfall of blood was gushing down my face and entered my mouth, so I plugged it with my shirt

That’s when something cold pierced my back. A man with a black mask menacingly stood behind me, so my left foot was used to push him back. The man fell to the ground but bounced back to his feet and ran towards me, grasping a knife. My instinct told me to go where Nova had dropped the glass panel and use it for defense. I sprinted to the glass panel, picked it up, and propped my new shield in front of my body. As the masked man struck the window with violence, my eyes scattered across the ship, looking for some sort of weapon I could use I spotted a fire extinguisher behind me

Perfect!

I pushed the window against the man to drive him towards the ground, then turned to the glass container holding the extinguisher. My right hand shot through the glass and reached for the red can. As the man stood up, he never expected to be sprayed with chemicals inside a fire extinguisher. After nothing was left inside, I struck his head with the fire extinguisher, even when he stopped moving. After my arms dropped the extinguisher out of exhaustion, I stopped beating the man. My worn-out legs made their way towards the controls

Then I noticed it

I grounded my feet and used my arms to swing Nova into the ground After doing this, I had returned to my senses ‘Why would I want an escape pod if I can take the entire ship?’ Lifting Nova by her waist, I ran towards the escape pod, and threw her inside.

A silver knife sat lodged in the center of my chest

As my hands caught the blood dripping under the knife, more flooded out the edges of my

mouth. Even though the controls were right in front of me and I could call for help, my body told me to lie down on the floor. The ship had a window ceiling, stars distracted me as I bled out.

At this point, the pain associated with the knife presented itself. Breathing turned into wheezing My limbs weakened because of how quickly blood was leaving my body

I know I’m dying, yet death is so beautiful Death welcomes me with open arms and

distracts me with its colorful hues and immense stories. I see a rock float towards me. When reaching me, I noticed that the rock smelled like sand. I reached out for the piece of space, but the rock disappeared in my palm, as if it never existed.

Out of nowhere, Callisto appeared in the center of the window Maybe it was me imagining that she was there because Callisto is actually 390 4 million miles away, but I could see the craters inches away, and it was lovely

Sofia Varano

A singular glow of light

That brightens any room

Standing tall and proud

Its brightness illuminates our lives

Festive and alive

She is the light in the darkness of life

Zenith Rodriguez

Alina Panosian

Room

Finley Younger

Rays of sun gleamed on this vase molded from glass

Absorbing all the light in the room

A cascade of color beamed from beads

Amplifying the light that came in

A complex dance of rainbows formed on the walls

Shadows, too, twisted and turned around me

The glass moved with the liveliness of ocean waves

And the light glinted over the twirling surface

Forming a galaxy of twinkling stars

The Summoning

Jax Mcgee

“Don’t be dumb! And stay on the damn trail!” yells a booming voice from within the house that Asta just ran out of, but she was already too far away to hear Her silver-blonde hair glints in the sunlight as she moves, the braids that had taken hours to create, already loose Even though she’s walked this path hundreds of times, Asta’s still mesmerized at how the houses and bustling town turns seamlessly into the wild forest A slight tingle runs through her as she passes through the protective barrier, I’m officially on my own, she thinks. The ground is still damp from the last rain and while stopping to take a drink, Asta catches her reflection in a nearby puddle. Little bits of deep brown mud are splattered all over her clothes and skin, some even made it into her hair. Tasked with collecting herbs for her moddy, Asta scans the forest floor for the telltale leaf patterns and berries that she’s learned over the years helping her mother collect these same plants

While stopping to appreciate the first flowers after the long winter, Asta sees a bird hop into the nearby bushes Despite her moddy’s disapproving voice in the back of her head, Asta follows, hoping to see some baby birds, or at least eggs. Searching through the brush, Asta's hands become sticky and wet from the mud. Instinctively, she wipes them on her tunic to get rid of the unpleasant sensation. Realizing what she just did, Asta thinks, Oh shoot, moddy’s gonna kill me when I get home, this was new too... oh well, I’ll just say I fell. Asta stands up and turns around to head back to the path and realizes she can’t see it anymore. Her hands start to shake and her pointed ears perk up as adrenaline floods her body Everyone knows dark fae and ogres roam this forest, or even worse, humans Hearing a twig snap behind her, Asta whirls around to find a large object coming down on her head With one hit, she crumples to the ground and masked figures surround her. Rough footsteps in the mud

became the only trace that Asta was ever there.

Blinking into consciousness, Asta begins to recall what just happened when interrupted by a sharp pain in the back of her head where she was hit Looking around Asta sees unfamiliar people in long dark cloaks, all wearing masks, to conceal their identity On the ground in front of her was a series of patterns and shapes interconnecting, covering a large area. The figures were taking care not to disturb the diagram, going out of their way to step around it. Asta coughs when smoke suddenly hits her lungs. It has an almost sweet taste and she instinctively starts running through the possibilities of what her kidnappers could be burning. Annoyed by an itch, Asta reached up to scratch her neck and realized her hands were tied behind her. Glancing down revealed that her ankles were bound in a similar fashion and yelling to get her captors’ attention didn’t do anything as she found she was silenced by magical means Panic starts to set in and Asta can feel her breath start to quicken once more What the hell is going on here? And why did they take me? she frantically ponders To try to calm herself down, Asta tries the grounding techniques her moddy taught her, but only becomes frustrated when they don’t immediately work.

“Finally! It is ready!” a booming voice calls out. Startled out of her thoughts, Asta turns her head, along with everyone else, to face the figure who spoke. “No longer do we need to be contained to this mortal plane! Ozymodius will reward us for our service and grant us eternal happiness while they rule this realm!” the figure continues to proclaim Slowly putting the pieces together in her head, Asta realizes that she’s probably part of this deal, and odds are, it won’t be fun

“Grab the child and we shall begin!” Everyone starts chanting in an unfamiliar language, while a

few grab her and, in their excitement, toss Asta into the diagram harder than they meant to. The lines on the ground start to glow and the chant grows louder. Asta begins to feel a connection to somewhere that isn’t on her plane of existence. She starts to feel herself being sucked into this other realm. It must be a trade, what’s-their-face needed someone to replace them so they could come here, or at least that’s what these weirdos think Consumed by the strange feeling of existing in multiple places at once, Asta barely hears someone call her own name Gaining some awareness when the chanting turns into yells of surprise and anger, Asta sees her moddy taking on multiple cultists, her moddy’s swords a blur in the blueish light of the glowing diagram.

“Get out of here!” yells her moddy, when Asta meets their eyes for a brief moment. Overtaken

by fear, something strange awakens in Asta and suddenly she’s in a damp cave. What the hell just happened?! What’s going on? How did I get here? Is moddy gonna be alright? So many thoughts and questions rush through Asta’s head, barely heard before another one replaces it. Confused about what just happened and terrified, tears start falling from Asta’s face. She doesn’t realize until they fall off her face and hit her legs beneath her Startled by the sensation, the tears pause for a second and then come back stronger than ever before After crying herself to sleep, Asta wakes up the next morning and makes a plan Realizing she’s now on her own, Asta’s survival instincts kick in and she calls upon the knowledge that her moddy has given her. Finally confident enough to leave, she starts her lone journey.

Brennen Bezdecheck

Grace Stone

List

Madison Burt

The breeze blowing the trees, lightning strikes, Thunder sounds, flowerbeds overturned, while the rains stirred

Changing the coats of the trees, brilliant colors contrasting the dark breeze Lights go dark, flightlights, and candles give us light, Floods, books, board and card games for the night

And the imagination of the summer, in the heat, Cuddled under blankets for warmth

Waiting for the end of the floods on the street

Brennen Bezdecheck

Just By Chance

Jocelyn Biedler

The pain, the pain is too overwhelming. There is too much. I can’t do this anymore. It is just one thing after another; when I think there is a break in the storm, some new deluge comes pouring down I can’t take this anymore I’m done Every day is torture with no chance of escape I just sink further and further down I feel so much All I want is to be numb What if I; should I; can I; where will I; when will I; how will I One oNe one Two twO ThREe Now

A gentle breeze blows, carrying lovely warm spring smells. It is a warm spring day with flowers blooming, birds chirping and children playing. Cedric is enjoying the cool breeze and warm sun as he walks through the teeming neighborhood. Each house he passes has its own personality. Some have little fences in the front, others are painted bright colors; there are even some that have beautiful floral gardens.

Suddenly the atmosphere drastically changes immediately after Cedric passes one of the houses Looking for the source of this strange anxiety, his bright blue eyes are wide, frantically trying to spot anything out of place It’s surreal, for the feelings he senses are of pain, cessation and deep, deep sadness. Cedric suddenly notices, after taking what feels like hours, something red on the front steps. Without any hesitation he runs across the lawn and up the steps to the front door.

He looks at the red he had spotted from the sidewalk and leans down to take a closer look, abruptly smelling the sharp tang of iron. Grabbing the handle, the door gave way to the source of the awful emotions Cedric races past the awful sight looking left and right for the kitchen Succeeding, he frantically rummages through all the drawers and cabinets until he finds towels In a flash, he has all the towels he can possibly hold and he races back to the front room.

A young woman lies sprawled on the floor passed out with a blade still in her left hand. Pooling on the floor, blood continues to seep from both of her wrists, spreading all over the front parlor, staining the beautiful light blue rug before reaching out the front door He drops to his knees, oblivious to the blood soaking his pants, and gently checks for a pulse in the young woman's neck Relieved to find one, he tightly wraps each of her frail upper arms to create a makeshift tourniquet and then second ones to tie around her wrists. Still worried but satisfied with his work, he quickly pulls out his phone and dials 911.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“My name is Cedric Alexander, there is a young woman here with a deep slit in both of her wrists, they have bled a lot and she is unconscious ” Checking her pulse again and noticing it is fading further into weakness he spoke in a worried voice higher than intended, “Please come quickly, she has a very light pulse and is barely breathing!”

“Where are you sir?” the annoyingly calm but imperative voice asked.

Taking a second to imagine the front of the house, “3963 Reagan Way.”

“All right sir, an ambulance should be there in two minutes. Can you please tell me exactly how you found her?”

“I, I , I did my best to stop the bleeding I have a tourniquet on each of her upper arms ”

“Sir please stay away from the victim ”

Unable to do anything more, Cedric follows the request, but only after checking the woman's

Kailey Billeci

pulse one last time. “Ok.”

Exhausted, Cedric sits with his head in his hands in the hospital waiting room determined to know if the woman was going to be alright. Cedric begins to relive the experience for what felt like the hundredth time trying to make sure he had done the right things simply because he is unable to think of anything else His leg bounces with agitated energy the whole time True to the 911 dispatcher’s word, the ambulance had arrived quickly and taken the young woman away. One of the EMTs spoke to him, telling him to wait for the cops that were on their way. Two cops arrive and begin asking him questions soon after the ambulance leaves and take the young woman with it.

“What’s her name?

Did she say anything to you? What were you doing in the neighborhood, the house?

Have you met before? ”

Completing the questions and explaining how he knew what to do with the young woman ’ s injuries, the older of the two cops offered to take him to the hospital to see if the victim would be alright.

“Excuse me. ” Startled, Cedric looked up sharply to see a middle-aged nurse in light purple scrubs. “Are you Cedric Alexander? You are waiting to hear about the Jane Doe correct?”

Still a little bit shocked from the day's events, all Cedric can do is nod. The kind-eyed nurse smiles softly. “It seems thanks to you this young lady has the opportunity to see another day I hear that if you hadn’t found her and known how to tie a tourniquet she would have died ” Admiration and curiosity radiated from the nurse

breath he had not even realized he was holding and runs his fingers through his thick blond hair. “Is she awake? Why don’t you know her? Can I talk to her?” All these questions come out in a frantic rush wanting to be uttered faster than they could even be answered.

“She is still asleep She lost a lot of blood so she will be out for a while while she recovers We are still looking through medical records in other healthcare systems to see if we can find her name Sir, you look exhausted How about you head home, and sleep and someone on staff will call you when she wakes up ”

Finally focusing on himself instead of the woman he finally noticed that his body feels heavy with exhaustion. Nodding his head, “Thank you Ma’am, I’ll keep my phone by me. Please call me when she wakes up!”

“Don’t you worry, someone on staff will call as soon as she wakes up. Right now you are the closest thing she has to a family that we know of. Now you should go get some rest ”

Agreeing with a nod, Cedric takes a step beginning his way to check out and call a cab

“Oh sir, don’t forget your clothes!” The nurse points to the blue plastic bag filled with clothes on a chair next to the one Cedric had been sitting in.

Confused for a moment, Cedric looks back at the clothes and then down to see himself in a set of baggy scrubs, then remembers at one point after getting to the hospital he was given the scrubs so that he could change out of his bloody clothes. “Right, thank you. ” Cedric picks up the bag and walks to the desk across the hall to checkout

Taking a minute to comprehend what the nurse had just said, Cedric suddenly lets out a deep

After calling a cab, making it home, taking a shower, and putting on pajamas Cedric puts on TV knowing that he won’t be able to sleep for a

while. After a mindless few hours of a crazy soap opera Cedric crawls into bed and falls asleep the minute his head hits the pillow.

The sun coming in through the window shines in his face and wakes him up from the long night of tossing and turning.

Disoriented for a second, he sits up and rubs his face Yesterday is coming back to him in a haze that makes him wonder briefly if it is all a dream Climbing out of bed, his phone begins to ring and he answers as fast as he can, hoping to hear that the woman is awake and he can talk to her.

“Hello, this is Cedric Alexander.”

“Good morning Mr. Alexander, I am calling from the hospital about Miss Rowan Dolores. She is awake and well enough to talk to you if you would still like to talk to her.”

Fluster in his voice, “Rowan Dolores you mean the young woman who attempted suicide yesterday right? Her name is Rowan Dolores?”

“Yes sir that is her name Would you still like to talk with her?”

Still thinking about her name “Oh yes please, of course!” Looking at the clock on his bedside table, “I can be there in about 25 minutes.”

“All right sir, just come to wing three and the front desk there will register you as a visitor and let you know which room Dolores is in.”

“Thank you so much, I will be there as soon as I can. ” Setting his phone aside he begins to get ready as fast as he can With this goal in mind he grabs a royal blue shirt and khaki pants from the top of his stack of clothing and gets dressed, brushes his teeth while styling his hair (getting toothpaste all around his mouth in the process) Trying to make his way out the front door to the elevator so he can get to the street to call for a cab, he is holding his breakfast in one hand and

hopping on one foot trying to tie his shoe.

Why am I here, why am I here? I don't want to be here! My wrists hurt they shouldn’t hurt. I shouldn’t be here.

Brushing up his hair one last time Cedric walks into the hospital ward straight to the front desk to sign in “Hello my name is Cedric Alexander, I am here to see Rowan Dolores She was admitted yesterday afternoon after attempted suicide ”

The nurse looks up at Cedric from the computer he had been staring at, looks at him a minute, nods and looks back to his computer and begins typing. “Cedric with a ‘ c’?”

“Yes.”

“Alright Mr. Alexander, if you could please sign in here,” the nurse points to a clipboard on Cedric’s left, “then you can turn left and walk straight down the hall until you see room 33B ” The nurse says all this while still typing and looking at his computer

“Thank you sir,” Cedric says, looking at the nurse for a second, wondering why such a terse individual is stationed at the front desk.

“No, no, no! Why am I here? Why am I here? I don't want to be here! Go away go away, don't touch me!” Hearing this, Cedric realizes that the screaming is coming from room 33B and runs to see what is going on. He sees that the young woman is less pale and is clean but she is flailing trying to get out of bed. A nurse has a firm hold on Rowan’s shoulders and calls for someone to help her Two more nurses run past Cedric, one steadying Rowan’s legs and the other getting a needle ready The nurse with the needle injects it into Rowan’s tube that connects to her hand then gently holds her forearms making sure that the wounds on her wrists are not reopened Rowan continues to thrash until the drugs start

Kailey Billeci

to kick in.

One of the nurses walks up to Cedric. “Hello there, are you lost?”

“No, sorry. ” Cedric tears his eyes from Rowan. “I am actually here to see Rowan. I saved her last night after she attempted suicide ”

“Oh ” Looking impressed, the blond tall ponytailed nurse informs him, “Well we just gave her some pain medication and it won't wear off for several hours Maybe you can come back then, if you would still like to talk to her ”

“I will definitely do that, thank you. ”

back to the hospital.

“Hello.” Cedric stands at the edge of the doorframe with Rowan glaring back at him. “My name is Cedric Alexander.”

"The nurses told me that you are the guy who saved my life ”

Not knowing what to say Cedric just back and nods, his stomach doing somersaults

Rowan’s brow furrows even further and she begins to yell, “Did you ever think that I did want to be saved?! That I don’t want to be here!” Tears start streaming down her face.

Looking both ways, Cedric crosses the street and walks to the coffee shop that he had found on his phone. People walk past him as he holds the door open, then he walks in himself mindlessly, waits in line, orders a large hot cup of tea and finds a place to sit and wait for his tea to cool enough to drink The whole time all he could think about was how much less pale she was but also how scared she was Yet, also thinking about how beautiful she is with her sparkling green eyes, long red hair, and soft oval face

“Bzzz bzzz bzzz. Bzzz bzzz bzzz.” Cedric's heart flutters for a second hoping it is the hospital so he can see Rowan. “Bzzz bzzz bzzz.” He quickly answers the phone a little bit too excited, “Yes?”

“Hello this is Sutter Hospital, is this Cedric Alexander?”

“Yes.”

“I am calling to inform you that Rowan Dolores is ready to talk to you ”

“Thank you so much, I am on my way, I will be there in about eight minutes ” Cedric ends the call and puts his phone back in his pocket, already making his way to the door and walking

Cedric’s eyes begin to water and he tries to explain; his hand dances in the air the whole time. “I, I…, I didn’t know what else to do. You were bleeding all over and it leaked out the front porch and I saw it and I…, I wanted to make sure everything was alright and it wasn’t ”

“You wanna know something? Everything was JUST fine I was finally going to be done It was all going to end and you had to ruin it for me! I never ever want to see you again EVER!!”

Defeated, tears crawling down his cheeks, Cedric looks back at her for one more moment, “Okay,” and turns away, determined to save others before they ‘don’t want to be saved.’

Three years later

“The program is doing amazing! There are so many people who have already been saved. I want to thank everyone who has donated and supported our patients through their struggles I know I am a new fence to the program but already my sole aim in life is to make sure all those who want and need help are helped that they know we are here for them and that we care ”

Cedric stands at the edge of the crowd. Everyone's attention is focused on the speaker on the stage. The events of three years ago changed his life. One moment he was just an honorably discharged 34-year-old corpsman marine with no job. The next thing he knew, a young woman he had just saved form attempted suicide doesn’t thank him but instead hates him and yells at him for saving her From that moment on he knows he is going to do everything he can to make sure no one, no one would have so much sorrow that they would want to end their own life

The program that he founded started out small, just a little meeting once a week, and now it is a huge program with counselors and doctors, all in its own building. The best part being that there have been so many patients dragged in by their loved one but then after going through the program they are dragging their loved one out to go have fun and live life.

As much as he loves what has come of the program he knows he can’t lead it He has always needed to be the one to come and help those in need After getting trained and certified he is now a paramedic helping all those who are hurt No matter what he will never forget about the young woman with the beautiful red-hair, who was so full of painful sorrows she nearly succeeded in taking her own life. He wonders quietly where she is now, and sends his best thoughts into the world for her.

Turning from the crowd, Cedric decided to go for a walk through the neighborhood around the park. It is a warm spring day with flowers blooming, birds chirping and children playing. A gentle breeze blows and gives him a shiver. Cedric walks through the teeming neighborhood, enjoying the cool breeze and warm sun Each house he passed has its own personality Some have little fences in the front, others are painted bright colors; there are even some that have beautiful floral gardens

Lauren McQouid

Flowers

Genevieve Ferrera

260,000 species and more

To plant for fun or for the purpose of remembering

Requesting full attention at all times

Thriving in certain seasons more than others

Pollinated by butterflies, bees, and birds

Native species native to certain areas

Coneflowers native to the U.S.

Hibiscus native to Asia

Forget-me-nots native to Africa

Sunflowers native to Europe

Lotus native to the Middle East

Such plants can tell you so much about the past, present, and the future

They share culture and stories of history without even trying

Planted in your yard, park, levee, or community garden

When a love one is lost they are used to remember

When a new life starts they are used as celebration

Their simple beauty reeks of significance

Dried to keep as a sentimental reminder of the fullness it once was

Rotting and attracting new life

Larvae, flies, and other organisms

They give so much and yet they expect nothing in return

Art by Aleah Adams

On the Translation of Themes

Josephine Jett

I didn’t like Wuthering Heights. I hated Heathcliff and Cathy and Linton and Hareton, so selfish there was nothing redeeming about them. I hated the idea of romance so powerful it killed, especially when it consumed so many others along with it. In spite of the fact that I disliked the book from front to back, I still read it cover to cover, maybe skipping a paragraph or two.

My opinions are my own, and I remain to be “not a fan” of the novel. But, naivety isn’t attractive, nor is unfounded, badly done controversiality Wuthering Heights is an extremely important book Undoubtedly, the writing is incredible, so it is no coincidence that Bronte’s words are not the topic of this essay. At first I didn’t like the book because I didn’t understand it of course, once I did, I still wasn’t exactly in love with it. It's no secret that Victorian era writing is something that goes over most of our heads. A lot of the time this is because we don’t desire to learn the details of language that is effectively dead, a lot of the time this is because we don’t like taking the time to understand. As I read the novel, I noticed myself not understanding Bronte’s words themselves I mean, when was the last time you heard someone use the word hale to describe one of good health or cur to describe an aggressive dog? I survived the first quarter of the book on context alone Then, one day as I was doing whatever anyone ever does on their phone, I heard the song "Wuthering Heights" by Kate Bush. This song, obviously drawn from Bronte's book, evoked this heavy, emotional feeling which I never got out of the novel The lyrics

tell the story of Cathy and Heathcliff, using the same themes that Bronte emphasizes in the book: love, duality, and destruction. After hearing the song, the entire book suddenly made sense Why? Themes in literature have this amazing ability to, when picked up on by the right creative, translate and transcend time. The themes of all the greats are not isolated, and they aren’t extinct; if we don’t feel them it's because they aren’t accessible to us

I’d like to think that my life is guided by themes, but let's be real, I’m a high schooler with vague interests and way too much homework But I do know that regardless of whether it is a conscious effort or not, themes dictate the way we live because literature and media is not drawn from darkness but from life. Treasure Island!!! by Sara Levine, not to be confused with Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson, is a representation of this exact idea. Levine’s story focuses on a woman, lost in life, who turns to Stevenson’s classic novel to give her life meaning, to apply the themes of the book to the way she led life. Levine identified these themes as “boldness, resolution, independence and horn-blowing”. We can look to Levine’s novel as a basis for the way that themes connect with people across time The original Treasure Island was published in 1882, 129 years before Levine’s unnamed, oblivious and unconcerned protagonist took its themes to heart as a way to reshape her unsatisfying life Now, Levine’s character looks to the themes of Stevenson’s novel with a level of admiration that more closely aligns with obsession, but for our purposes, the important thing is that Levine’s

protagonist felt connected to the themes and values which molded them, not the plot or the relationships themselves. These particular values that Levine’s character clung to were not necessarily admirable, in fact they led to her stabbing her sister in the hand and a muchneeded intervention Yet the idea that a person can relate so intensely to the themes of a book a century older than them is what makes Levine’s book the perfect example of the translation of themes through time Levine’s character not only connected to the themes of Stevenson’s, but changed her life for or because of the novel.

“‘Don't tell me you're reading it,’ she said, as if I were doing something to the book, whereas in fact the book was doing something to me ” (Levine 14). This idea that Levine introduces is the focus of the rest of this piece of writing.

When we consider the fact that themes are the things that characterize a book and hold it together, that make it more than just some dialogue and description, we see that really the whole book is its theme This is a concept we ’ ve all known for a while; we were asked in middle school to identify the theme of the book we read every single day, we were given the definition of a theme in seventh grade, then eighth grade, then freshman year and so on We were taught how to see and identify themes. But when we also consider Levine’s perspective, that the book does something to us, themes don’t always need to be identified If we read enough books, if we observe the world around us, if we understand the functions of the English language, and if we live to experience and understand, we connect themes to books without realizing it. We understand the emotion or the intensity or the organic nature of a book and we connect it to the themes we already know, because the themes of books are not all unique because the themes of

books come from the themes of life Books do something to us because they beg us to understand. They urge us to listen. They pester us to think. They demand that we feel. Why did I suddenly understand Wuthering Heights when I heard Kate Bush’s song? Because I was able to access the emotion and to listen to the themes when I was too blind to learn and understand the novel. Themes are carried on through books, but also through music, through movies, through art We cannot ignore them and we cannot insist that they do not apply to us because we separate ourselves from them by centuries. Themes translate the essentials of humanity If you cannot find them in your books, find them in your music, in your screens, find them in your life.

Jaden Bartell

Annika Erickson

The Sleepening

Logan Swain

Fashion was not a hobby for Edna Montpellier. It was an all-consuming obsession. Death was preferable to the endless shame that being seen in public with something other than the most stylish of outfits would be Every second of her existence that she did not spend dealing with the mundanities of life, such as eating and sleeping, was dedicated to frantic sketching, whimsical daydreaming, and pattern cutting

Edna was drawing a brand-new design when her husband, Léonce, burst into her room. He swept the door open and peered down at Edna, who was completely engrossed in her work.

"Edna dear," Léonce said, "I do believe it is time for you to prepare the supper." He said this with some difficulty, owing primarily to the fangs that protruded from his mouth. That was because Léonce was a vampire, from his neatly-combed greasy black hair to his paint-white face It wasn't naturally that color, but Léonce felt that such a skin tone was more befitting of a vampire's appearance, and so he used face paint every morning to make it look that way The posh British accent was also fake, although that was mostly because Léonce didn't know what a Romanian accent sounded like.

Edna drew in one last ruffle on the skirt she was designing and stood up. She adjusted her comically large glasses and gave her husband a cold stare.

"Can't you see I'm busy with this skirt?" she asked. "Go make your dinner yourself."

“You know that I am not able to do that,” he responded, completely emotionlessly Léonce had about as much expression as, well, a vampire

Léonce’s assertion that he couldn’t make dinner

wasn’t untrue. The only stoves and ovens within their castle had been installed with Edna’s height in mind To say she was of diminutive stature would be like calling Robert Wadlow a person of above-average height

“Can’t you bend down and put something in the microwave for once?” Edna asked

“No, dear,” he replied.

“Oh, fine,” she said. “Go clean up. I’ll make hot dogs or something.”

Léonce swirled his silk cape in a circle and departed. Edna clicked her tongue in disgust. Of her many firm opinions about fashion, nothing was more sacred to her than the irrevocable law that there must be no capes. It was this principle for which her husband had no regard

Five minutes later, Léonce and Edna sat down, facing each other across their long, stone dinner table Flickering candlelight dimly illuminated the cobwebs strewn across the ceiling (They were made of cheap string and had been purchased from Spirit Halloween.) Léonce lifted his fork and knife, one in each hand, and carefully sliced his microwaved burrito in half. The tortilla was soggy from having been frozen, and, although the ends were hot enough to melt lead, the center was as cold as Léonce’s core temperature.

“How many times do I have to tell you, dear,” Edna said, “ no capes!”

“But I just got this one from Louis Vuitton!” he protested, forgetting for a moment that vampires weren't supposed to show emotions

“No capes!” Edna repeated

Neither person said a word for the rest of dinner, which was typical. After attacking her burrito into nonexistence, Edna vaulted back up the stairs to her drawing room. Léonce took a moment longer, delicately slicing each section of burrito before placing it in his mouth.

Just as the sun was beginning to set, a sudden, shrill sound shot through Edna’s window, jolting her from her concentration She shook her head and drew another line The noise started again, this time being sustained It sounded like an air horn that had swallowed too much helium Edna sprang up and marched to her window, ripping her curtains open and poking her head out into the dusk.

The strangest man Edna had ever seen was standing on the castle lawn. He was taller than Léonce, with wild red hair that looked like a rusty feather duster. He was wearing a plaid kilt colored primarily neon green, while his shirt was a white St. Andrew’s cross on a bright blue background. The source of the obnoxious noise became readily apparent: the man had lifted an enormous purple bagpipe to his mouth and was blowing into it so hard his face was as red as his hair

“Cut that out!” Edna screamed “I can’t think with you blasting that!”

The man stopped and looked up at her. “My name is Robert the Brown,” he said. His Scottish accent was so thick that she could barely understand him. “Are you Edna Montpellier?”

“What’s it to you?” she shouted.

“I’ve heard of how unhappy you are with your current husband, the terrible vampire Léonce,” he said

my commitment to you!"

"Are you suggesting that I leave Léonce and run after you?" Edna asked.

"Yes," Robert said.

Edna shrugged "Not a bad offer "

She ran down the stairs (although, because of her height, it was more of a waddle) and flew out of the castle doors, stopping directly in front of Robert

She felt exuberant, giddy, and breathless, but the breathlessness was more from running than from emotion.

"I brought you some Mars bars," Robert said. He proffered three finger-length sticks, covered in crisp, golden batter.

"Are those deep-fried?" Edna asked, hesitantly plucking one out of Robert's hand.

"That's how we do it up in Scotland, lassie," Robert said "These are goodies in their natural habitat, for sure "

Edna munched on the bar while she contemplated what to do now that she had acquired a new, cape-free liberty.

"What should I do now that I've acquired a new, cape-free liberty?" Edna wondered out loud.

"What about a concert?" Robert suggested. "The sound of music is music to my ears. I'm sure you could tell from my beautiful serenade."

"Er, yes," Edna said "Let's go see Adele "

"Eh, there's a real Scottish lassie right there!"

“He wears capes, ” Edna said simply

"Never fear, Edna, for I would not ever wear a cape around you! I wouldn’t even dream of it," Robert said. "Give me a chance, and I'll prove

"She was born in London "

"That's basically the same place, you know," Robert said.

Fifteen minutes later, the brand-new couple situated themselves in the middle tier of a stadium to listen to Adele. Buying tickets at the door had certainly been expensive, but that didn't bother Edna. Léonce had deep pockets. Actually he didn't have any pockets, but he did have a joint checking account.

"It's well crowded in here, isn't it?" Robert said

"Be quiet," Edna hissed "She's started singing "

As Adele sang, Edna, who was just as emotionless as Léonce, felt like she was about to cry. The songs about heartbreak, rejection, and disappointment felt too real to her. Every day she had spent with Léonce had been filled from dawn to dusk with the horrible specter of his cape. There was nothing that filled Edna's soul with more disgust.

The concert came to a close with cheers and applause that rivaled, but did not quite exceed, the average volume of a high school rally.

Robert had been affected much more than Edna by the concert As he wiped a tear from his eye, he sniffled, "That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen "

"Seen?" asked Edna. "This was a concert, not a runway."

"I meant heard," Robert said quickly. "The most beautiful thing I've ever heard."

"Hmpf," said Edna.

"Let's go down to the stage and meet the singer," Robert said. His voice was soft and dreamy.

"I don't think they'll let us backstage," Edna said

was your girlfriend."

"You're a mighty fine lassie," Robert said apologetically.

"Are you dumping me?" Edna asked.

"Never!" Robert proclaimed "Come with me to see her "

"All right," Edna acquiesced

True to Robert's assertion, they went backstage irrespective of permission They found Adele in her dressing room, sipping on a glass of reddish liquid to cool her vocal cords.

"Adele, may I say that you are the most beautiful singer I have ever seen heard?" Robert quickly corrected.

"Thank you," Adele said. Her voice was raw from her performance.

"Are you drinking alcohol?" Edna asked

"I drink wine," Adele said

"I'm sure you get a lot of compliments," Robert said "Especially about your voice "

"Yes "

"And I know that we would be a beautiful match for each other," Robert said.

"Robert, you liar!" Edna said. "I bet you wear capes to bed, you filthy Scot."

"My name isn't Scott," Robert said with a twinge of confusion Edna stormed out of the dressing room as fast as her stubby legs would carry her

"Was that your girlfriend?" Adele asked

"They don't have to," Robert said "I'll go there anyways I just have to meet her "

"But what about me?" Edna said. "I thought I

"You and I really understand each other," Robert said, completely ignoring the previous five sentences. "You see, I'm a musician, just like

Lauren McQuoid

you."

Robert reached under his kilt and pulled out his bagpipe, which wasn't physically possible, but Robert didn't let that stop him. He proceeded to blow into the instrument, producing a single, squeaky, piercing note that made the room vibrate

"Stop, stop!" Adele shouted, trying in vain to be heard over the terrible noise "Gosh, that's awful "

The bagpipe deflated with a sound resembling Robert after eating a large bean soup.

"You mean you don't like my playing?" Robert asked.

Adele noticed the hurt in Robert's voice and quickly said, "You have a lot of potential. Are you seeing a music teacher?"

"Yes, we go out to McDonald's every Saturday afternoon A good Scottish name for a restaurant, don'tcha think?" Robert beamed

"You what?" Adele had been completely thrown off

"You know," Robert said. "The music teacher canceled for this Saturday. Do you want to replace him?"

"No, I have a concert that night," Adele said quickly.

"What about the next night?" Robert persisted.

"I don't want to go out with you," Adele said. Robert deflated just like his bagpipe, although thankfully without the accompanying sound "It just wouldn't work," she continued, trying to soften the blow

you never forget that." With this pronouncement he spun around and slumped out of Adele's dressing room.

"I wonder where Edna went," Robert said to himself when he had reached the parking lot. His tears for Adele had already dried.

She had gone to a small café by the banks of the Mississippi She was chewing on a small croissant and contemplating her existence

Robert had made her feel so happy and free But his love had been fake

"I'll never be able to eat a Mars bar again," Edna said.

She couldn't go back to Léonce, not now that she'd realized how gloomy her castle-bound existence was. She realized that she didn't have to. She didn't need Léonce, Robert, or anybody else to make her happy. She had herself, and she was good enough.

The thought was uplifting She brushed the crumbs off her hands, her head beginning to spin with ideas for new dresses and jackets Just as she was getting ready to leave, a tall, white man impeccably dressed in a crisp, black suit approached her. He straightened the sunglasses that obscured his eyes and set his neat, rectangular briefcase on the café table.

"Edna Montpellier, I presume?" he said. His voice would've been as clear as a window after Windex, but a window after Windex usually has great big streaks of cleaning solution on it that dry into weird patterns.

"What's it to you?" Edna said She slung her stylish leather handbag over her shoulder

"Edna, can you keep a secret?" the mysterious gentleman asked

"No, that's alright, I understand," Robert said dejectedly He started to cry, and blew his nose into a Scottish flag. "You're a mighty fine lassie,

"If I want to," Edna said with a frown

"What am I saying," the gentleman said with an ominous chuckle. "I'm from the FBI. We know all about you already, including how likely you are not to reveal this information."

"What do you want?" Edna asked.

"The government has recently investigated the potential for the existence of a special class of individuals with unique--"

"Give me the short version," Edna said

"Very fitting," the gentleman said

"What's that supposed to mean?" Edna demanded.

"Given your, um, stature." The gentleman coughed and readjusted his sunglasses. "The government would like you to design suits for superheroes."

It was like a sunrise in Edna's head. A brilliant future flashed before her eyes She would be free to design whatever she wanted She would be recognized and appreciated for the quality of her work She would never have to worry about Léonce, Robert, or any other man ever again

"That would be incredible," Edna said.

"Funny you should say that," the gentleman said.

"I accept your offer," Edna said, "with one condition."

"What would that be?" the gentleman asked.

"No capes."

"Agreed "

Meanwhile, Robert approached Léonce's castle, bagpipe at the ready It was the only place he could think of to look for Edna He blew one shrill note on his instrument before the castle door was swept open, not by Edna, but by her

husband.

"You're not Edna," Robert said.

"Truly remarkable observation skills you have, young man," Léonce said.

"Do you know where Edna is?" Robert asked, standing on his tiptoes

"I haven't seen her since dinner," Léonce said

"She hasn't returned?"

"Returned? Are you implying that she left?"

Sudden suspicion dawned on Léonce. "You ran away with her, didn't you?" The vampire was about to violate his strict policy against displaying emotion. The very thought of it! Edna running away with this man, of all people.

Robert wasn't even aware of Léonce's nearanger. The only thing in his vision was the gleaming sparkle of his fangs as they reflected the light of the sun, just as it slipped below the treeline

"Has anybody ever told you how beautiful your teeth are?" Robert said

"Well, no," Léonce said. His confusion eclipsed his not-quite-outrage.

That's a real shame, laddie. And your cape."

"What about it?" Leonce asked.

"It's so silky, and black like… black like…" Robert trailed off, unable to complete the simile.

"Yes?" Léonce prompted eagerly

"Black like my vision goes after I've been too long at the pub," Robert said

"Truly remarkable observational skills you have," Léonce repeated breathlessly, taking a step towards the Scotsman.

"I have one question to ask you," Robert said.

"And that is?" Leonce asked.

""How do you feel about deep-fried Mars bars?"