Istoria 2021

ISTORIA 2021

Cover art “Pure and Evil” by Kendra Limon

2

Abbie Taber - Editor-in-Chief Kendra Limon - Art Editor Christopher Alvarez - Layout Editor Liv Cogdill - Prose Editor Chelsea Sanchez-Rodriguez - Poetry Editor Advised by Katherine Hill

EDITOR’S COMMENTS Dear Reader, In the past year, we as a society have all faced great adversity as we have navigated the reality of living through the COVID-19 pandemic. The Istoria staff is no exception to this, having been unable to complete our last edition before schools shut down and most of the staff graduated. Given the exciting trend that we were on after having two of our books in a row named REALM First Class award winners, this was a disappointing experience for us. However, we have come to realize as a staff this year that the wait may have been a blessing in disguise for us, one that allowed us to come back with fresh minds and create the book in a new and more unique way.

This year’s edition, Equinox, centers a lot around the idea of balance, good vs. evil, and the reality that there is no clear distinction between dark and light or good and bad. An equinox, being a date when day and night are about the same length, is a strong representation of what it means to be at a metaphorical crossroads. At its core, there is limitless potential for both good and bad or darkness and light to follow. From our perspective, our country is currently at such a turning point. Coming out of 2020 and into a time where many of us are receiving COVID vaccinations, we are forced to take a step back and consider what we want life to look like moving forward now that we’ve seen the consequences of our actions during the pandemic.

That being said, our color concept this year tells a story from start to finish. We begin in the white section, where everything seems nice and all is well with the world. From there, we move into our first gray section, where things are starting to dim. At the book’s climax, the pages have completely dark backgrounds and the content of the writing pieces is just as gloomy as their background. However, this part of the book also serves as a turning point, starting an upward trend to the end, where life is as it should be again. It shows that even at its darkest point, life has a way of getting brighter as we push forward and come out on the other side. Towards the conclusion, we are able to see the lessons learned throughout taking root and it is noticeable that rather than completely forgetting about all the dark things that have happened, there is instead reflection and personal growth. We hope that this year’s edition will take you on a journey and allow you to explore your inner self more as you connect and engage with the works published within it.

Despite what it may seem, this book is about much more than just the pandemic.

In its essence, Istoria is about telling the stories of the many diverse and unique students we have here at North Star, a mission that our staff has taken to heart in the creation of this book. We have had the good fortune of being able to showcase a great number of talented students in this year’s magazine, and are thankful to be able to carry on the legacy of those before us. We are excited to be able to publish our seventeenth edition and are constantly looking for more passionate and creative individuals to help produce the magazine and fill its pages. Finally, we would like to give a special thanks to our advisor, Ms. Hill, and our student teacher, Ms. Cartwright, for stepping in and aiding us through a publication process quite unlike that of a typical year. We hope you enjoy the book, and wish you good luck on your journey.

Editor-in-Chief, Abbie Taber

3

Table of 6 7 8 8 9 9 10 10 11 11 12-13 14-15 16-17 18 18 19 19 20-21 22-23 22-23 24-25 24-25 26 26 27 28-29 29 30 31 31 32-33 34 35 36 36 37 37 38-39 39 40-41 41 42-45

.............What is Happiness? - Creative Ambition .............Koi No Yokan - Abbie Taber .............Sunset On July 12 - Leah Bryan .............Country Sunset - Zakary Muir .............Tiam - Moon Bunny .............Painting The Flowers - Kaitlyn Michaelson .............That Room - Yasmin Worth .............To The Moon and Back - Anonymous .............Written Expressions #1 - Jet Muskie .............Mother Nature - Kiera Lococo .............Written Expressions #2 - Jet Muskie .............Hello Brother - Kyrie Baker .............Stairway to Heaven - Parker Averill .............Where I’m From - Greta Zastrow .............Western Midnight Sky - Lilly Hanley .............My Little World - Kay Stearman .............Galaxy - Sandra Hartley .............Think Straight - Parker Averill .............Talking in my mind - Liv Cogdill .............Smiles- Serenity Kraus .............A Faded Memory - Korbin Eisenbarth .............Hope - Taylor Cumblidge .............Why Can’t We Be Equal - Tyler Chapman .............Untitled #7 - Estrella Uribe Villegas .............Tears for Equality - Lana Huetson .............Identity - Natalie Keodouangdy .............Strong - Axel Rivers .............A Beautiful Nightmare - Angel Manzo .............Dream Catcher - Ana Reyes .............Untitled - Jet Muskie .............In Due Time - Nyamal Rik .............Not so Strange Stranger - Batool A. .............Off-white Misery - Mennah Al- Turfa .............I saw you say - Axel Rivers .............Untitled #10 - Estrella Uribe Villegas .............Oblivion - Abbie Taber .............Nature -Clayton Grant .............I Am Afraid - Ali Fransisco .............Bound Ideology - Hajer Al-Eid .............Too Young - Naomi Chamberlain .............Depth - Emma Leifert .............The Shadows of our Childhood - Paige Steiner

* *

* * * * * * * * * * *

* * * *

Contents 45 46 47 48-49 48-49 50 50 51 52 52 53 53 54 55 56 57 58-59 60 60 61 61 62-63 63 64-66 67 68-70 71 72 73 74-75 76 76 77 77 78-81 80-81 82-83 82-83 84 84-85 85

.............Shadows of Childhood - Page Steiner .............Addiction - Kylie Bauske .............Jealousy is a Golden Puppy - Kathleen Nguyen .............Silly Little Boy - Zatharian M. .............Ink Drop - Nelson Ramos Diaz .............Underwater - Axel Rivers .............Garden Moon’s - Lilly Hanley .............Raccoon Skull - Melissa Konz .............Obsession - Reagan Klein .............Untitled #2 - Estrella Uribe Villegas .............Living in my Head - Hannah Farr .............Untitled #5 - Estrella Uribe Villegas .............Floating Brain - Calie Estrada .............Letting Go - Estrella Uribe Villegas .............Perfectly Peaceful - Hailey Smith .............What is Overthinking? - Anonymous .............Darkness Rises and Light Falls - Laura Perez .............I Always Knew - Adriana Reyes .............A Beautiful Enclosure - Alaa Al-Yasseri .............Memento mori quia memento vivere - Lily Teten .............Skeleton Ying Yang - Axel Rivers .............Goodbye - Hannah Farr .............Flower on the Water - Kaitlyn Michaelson .............Iphone Notes: Documenting my thoughts: first generation student edition - Marissa Mendez-Santiago .............The Heart of Earth - Zackary Muir .............Now and Later - Ava Simpson .............Life’s Journey - Parker Averill .............Eyes - Kylie Hill .............Butterflies - Axel Rivers .............Light Through the Storm - Serenity Kraus .............Rose in the Shadows - Sienna W. .............My Drawing of a Rose - Rebecca Jo Davidson .............Soulmates - Moon Bunny .............Kouyou & Haru - Hannah Tran .............Punk Boy - Tobie Schaad .............Together… - Christopher R. Down .............I am From - Hamdiya Mumade .............Breath of Life - Taylor Cumblidge .............Paradise - Kylie Bauske .............Untitled - Jet Muskie .............Growth - Faith Siders-Fuschia

*

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

* * * *

Creative Ambition- XII

Koi No Yokan Abbie Taber - XII We stand on a ferry Waves lapping gently around us Speaking of beauty Our eyes on the water Our minds on each other We stand watching fireworks Exploding Lighting up the sky Nothing but us in that moment Encapsuled in time I sit in my room Thinking of him Holding his jacket Smiling My heart full of hope We sit on a plane The sky in our sights He holds out his hand I take it And together we fly

7

Sunset on July 12 Leah Bryan - XI

Your car is parked At the bottom of this hill The blanket isn't big enough You're the space I want to fill The first star comes out You're what I wish on You don't know the difference Between dusk and dawn I tell you now While you're asleep on my shoulder That you're locked in me forever I never want to say goodbye

Country Sunset

Zakary Muir -XII 8

Painting the Flowers

Kaitlyn Michaelson - XII

Tiiam Moon Bunny - IX A word used to describe the twinkle in your eyes when you first meet someone .

A feeling of wonder and curiosity creep on you as you see them pass by.

You begin to have an euphoric feeling as you start to slowly fall in love with every single little about them.

Finding the true beauty within the imperfections and you find acceptance in the life cycle and death because of this person .

A beautiful word that can describe your feelings for the person that made you feel like you were part of the heavens themselves .

The sprinkle within your eyes that grows ever so larger when you start to see every little perfect and imperfect thing about them .

You start to have a longing feeling to see them once more.

The comfort and warmth of the person's touch you adore so much.

Those laughs and jokes you made in mid fall as you walk along the park you guys used to play in as children .

Even your heart sparkles even brighter because of the feeling of a warm soul holding you dear to their heart as if you were their one and only treasure.

They make you take on all different kinds of colors and make you feel a bunch of emotions that you never thought you'd feel before .

A maroon shade of red that they make you take color of as they compliment you for how beautiful and glass like your eyes look that evening.

Some say your eyes are windows to your soul . they show how you truly feel about something .

They can shine so bright that at times they can look so unreal almost like dolls .

And other times you may be just full of joy and ready to burst it all out that your eyes start to water out of pure happiness and gratitude.

9

That Room Yasmin Worth - IX

I seek a room.

A room for one.

Not a fancy room Just a room 4 walls, 1 ceiling, 1 sturdy floor

Maybe one corner has pictures of memories. One wall has a window with curtains, slightly opened to peek through. A glimmer of light shows through a small triangle between the dark curtains. Maybe the window shows the future, hidden, written in a code laid out in the rolling hills of dead yellow grass with lonely trees. Both waiting for hope. Hope.

As I sit in this empty room with nothing to look at, I want to scream. High and long. Just enough to get rid of all the anger and memories I don't want to know.

I feel trapped but it isn't because I am in a room. I can't escape my thoughts.

They circle my mind all day and keep me up all night. My eyes stuck in a loop watching the same thing over and over again. My fingers tap but there is no music. They tap to the rhythm of confusion trying to escape.

I look up again. I see something over the hills of dead grass far beyond the branches of the trees. Something bright, something clear, something open and empty. Yet so beautiful it is, I stand up and walk around this lonely room. I look around and smile, here I am surrounded by darkness, surveying a great fantasy. Except this fantasy is real. I feel the grass soft under my feet. I hear the wind whispering words into my ears. My fingers tap to the songs of the birds. I want to scream, No, belt out a song of happiness because I am in fact happy. I have escaped the tarp of fear that lay overtop of me. I am free.

Unquestionably, this room is the one I want.

To The Moon and Back Anonymous - XI I am from the big white house that has been with me for as long as I can remember I am from the cross on my wall I am from the roses on the side of my grandmas house And the tree in my backyard that is older than my grandparents Whose long gone limbs I remember as if they were my own.

I am from spending every christmas morning at my grandmas and saying “I love you” every time before I left I am from my mom and my grandma I am from saying grace before thanksgiving dinner and supporting family no matter what I am also from telling my mom and stepdad a joke everyday I am from being told it is okay to show emotion and loving as if there is no tomorrow I am from hearing “I love you around the stars, through the moon and up to heaven” from my mom whenever we said goodbye I am from Germany I am from the baby blanket that is in my bedroom for comfort and security Which I still find in my dresser drawer next to my bed

10

Written Expressions Jet Muskie - XI The World The smell of aging grass and autumn air whizzed past me as I lay on the ground, my face buried in earth. I dare not look up, for fear of the millions of others watching me as I refuse to climb upwards. No matter how hard I've pushed before, I always end up back on the yellowing bed of grass. The tree above me hosts so many others, but I am fine where I am.

Relaxed and at peace, my eyes closed as if in a deep slumber. When the winter comes, I dig a hole into the ground, crawling into the space between the tree's roots. There I lay, watching the outside world, waiting for the cold, dry winter to end. Once my nose picks up the scent of expiring green and autumn, I climb back out again. Laying once more underneath that tree, I listen to the noise of people around me and the rustle of leaves. Despite wanting to hide away forever, I know winter doesn't last forever. I must continue to push myself out of the tree's roots and into the light, or else I will never leave.

Me as a Writer As I sit on the edge of my branch, I cross my arms. An angry scowl sits across my face. Once again, my mind is blank. Once again, I am not quite at the top of the tree. I sit on the end, not afraid of falling. Will I ever outdo myself? The sun shines down on me, the wind blowing through my hair. Will I ever be able to do my best? I'm not at the top, but I'm not on the bottom either. I stand, sure of my base, like the tree holding me up. I'm solid, thick-headed, unsure of whether I should crawl off my branch or stay a little while longer. So I sit.

Thinking, thinking, thinking. A pendulum swings in front of my eyes, counting of seconds, minutes, hours. Time stretches, being pulled and chewed around like gum. The scowl never leaves, my brows furrowed so tightly my head pounds. Ideas hit me in the face and stomach, like someone punching me or forcing propositions down my throat. Words build up in my chest, my feet swinging underneath me. I see the ground below me, seeing how far I've come. Yet, I'm scared. What if I fall? What if I fail? I am aloft, feeling as if I'm on the top floor of a sky-scraper, seeing the tiny specks of other human beings. So I sit, arms crossed, thinking. Maybe I'll stay a little longer. Who knows what idea will hit me next.

Untitled I'm at the base of this old tree, my fingers interlocked. My hands cradle someone else's old Pumas as they climb upward. The dirt in the grooves of the underbelly of the falling apart shoes digs into my palms. My arms strain, muscles groaning out in pain, my bones worn.

I'm always ready to lend a hand. Currently, I think I've bitten off more than I can chew.

So here I am, helping up my friend, sometimes even helping up a stranger. As I watch them get higher, the weight in my pulsing hands lessens. The person I'm pushing up grips the tree, skin digging into bark. I shout words of bravery and confidence, hoping to light a fire somewhere. The feet in my hands leave, like a baby bird flying out of the nest. I have never felt more proud, of both myself and my friend. And they climb. Oh, they climb. Higher than before. Into the bright sun, to the top of the tree.

Mother Nature

Kiera Lococo - XII

Warmth. A chest expanding and deflating as your mother speaks to you. Blankets pulled up to your chin, stories creep into your mind. Bits and pieces of each tale taking form. You can't wait to tell you friends. The reading stops with a screeching halt.

A hushed good night ending with a shut book. Your night light blinking it's eyelid, as if it too was trying to stay awake. With the rise of the sun, you are sitting on colored carpet, lips spilling out copy-cat ideas. The nice lady in charge stares at you, her eyes telling a story opposite of her smile. Without another glance, you continue spinning narratives of poisoned apples, princesses in towers, and witches kidnapping babies. You can't help but talk faster and faster as each detail passes from your mouth to the other children's tiny, shell-like ears. But after class, worried words pass from the lady's lips through your mother's cochlea.

A violent whisper starles you, “I'm uneasy about the stories your daughter has been telling the other children. I mean, stealing babies and poisoned fruit…”.

Your mom rolls her eyes, “Have you ever read a fairytale before?”.

You return home, mouth shut tight. The words of the stories swimming in your head silenced. Your face burns, red becoming your primary skin color.

Get a teammate. Trade your voice for pens and paper.

The scritch scratch of ink spilling out onto paper replacing the boisterous tales you used to tell aloud. Rhymes and rhythms drip out from your fingertips as the pen swirls around to form letters.

The cheap notebook is one of many you keep closed at your bedside table. Lyrics for songs and beginnings of wild adventures tame the white landscape of the five dollar pages. The metal spiral that keeps the bleached skins together clinks as you turn another page. Fifth grade is hard, but the flow of ideas from your mind to written words is like as easy as breathing. Sheepishly hand in a packet of carefully written poems, pencil marks dim and tap-covered tears. Mrs. Pankoke returns the packet, a smiley face drawn on the top in black permanent marker. “You're good,” she says.

You nod, bowing your head as your ears pound with the praise. Get introduced to a school computer and find a writing website. Pictures attached to tale after tale, helping you express your hidden wish to narrate. A squashed hobby slowly inflating to a beloved expression of emotion and creativity.

12

Listen to your teammate read as you eat lunch in the school's library. Her dream is to go to college.

“Go, I'll be fine,” you tell her.

It's not true. Go to middle school. Feel the aching hole your teammate left behind. Join a club called Young Authors. The club leader, Emily, asks everyone, if comfortable, to share out loud. At first, choke on silence. Years of habit hang around your neck like a stifling cloak. Listen to other writers speak their tales, twisting the story and singing out poem verses. It's your turn. Take out your notebook, palms beginning to sweat. You read out a small set of stanzas, voice shaking as it gets dusted off. The round of applause after you finish reading startles you. A warmth fills up your chest, exhilaration spilling out of your mouth in the form of laughter.

Graduate middle school. Become a naive freshman, getting lost in the halls and drown in a new curriculum. You think these classes will be like all the ones before. Afterall, an essay is an essay. Get everything you know squashed flat into the ground.

Study slides and notes, absorbing the new skills as you struggle to learn this new style of composing. Your thesis malfunctions hold you back, evidence for warrants creating a pounding in the front of your head. Dig in. Grapple with each paragraph. Scuffle with pronouns and punctuation. Feel accomplishment with that first A and the others that start to follow.

Grow to love words. With the birth of more written stories, you seek out approval. Teacher after teacher reads your work, each helping to mold your craft. Writing has become much more than just getting grades and that big bright A. The letters and silent sounds bleed from your imagination. Despite flaky inspiration, the zen while you write is so euphoric that you keep coming back. You can imagine your hair tied up in piles on your head. Bags under your eyes highlighting many sleepless nights. A pencil and fingers flying as you write out a draft and then type it onto an online document. Several cups littering your room, each stained from tea. Through an ibuprofen haze, you click the final letters, sighing once finished. You stretch out sore fingers, cracking your wrists and shoulders. You undo your hair, thinking about your next work. It's a never ending cycle. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

13

Hello Brother Kyrie Baker - IX Very long ago, there were two kingdoms, the light and the dark, separated by a gorgeous forest. The dark siders, as the dark kingdom's citizens were called, had purple markings on their skin and red eyes. The light siders had green eyes and blue markings. Lexi was a light sider. Not just any light sider though, she was the queen. Dolan, on the other hand, was a dark sider disguised as a light. He was also the brother of the dark king, who wanted to take over the light kingdom. To do so, he sent Dolan out to capture the trust of queen Lexi and betray her. That backfired, however, and Dolan fell in love with the queen. They got married, and now, they were going to have twins, both boys. Dolan just hoped that they were both born light siders.

Months went by and finally, the twins were born. One was a gorgeous light sider who they named Solaris. The other was a dark sider, and Lexi was horrified to see this. She knew she was loyal to Dolan, so was he lying? This led to many arguments in the following weeks. And soon, a divorce. Dolan and the other son, Adiran, were banished to the dark kingdom. They both raised their children as single parents. Dolan told Adiran fantastical stories about the light side. About his beautiful mother and his just as amazing brother. The two were extremely close and battled off demons from the forest. Lexi was just as close to Solaris, but she instead never told him of his brother, and claimed his father was dead. She also let him train with the most experienced knights the kingdom had to offer. Both brothers were quite skilled fighters, and as teens they both fought alone. But no battle experience would prepare them for what would happen just a week before their 16th birthdays.

It was a warm afternoon in the middle of May. Solaris went to the forest to fight some demons and other unwanted creatures. He fought for a while before resting by a lake deeper in the forest than he had ever been in.

If it weren't for the fact that he had dragged his sword while walking, he would’ve been lost. The young teen looked around, it looked different than the forest he knew. He knew trees with leaves sporting a bright green coat. He knew sparkling, bright blue waters and birds chirping. This forest had darker green, almost black leaves, strange markings on some of the trees, and waters that looked almost black and tarry. He heard a rustle in the bushes, causing him to draw his sword and get into a fighting stance.

“Come out, you fiend! I'm not afraid of a battle!” he shouted Another human came out, looking him up and down before smirking and chuckling.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

The figure simply looked him in the eyes, “Hello….brother.”

14

Solaris looked puzzled, “I'm not your brother, I don't have a brother.

Mother would’ve told me if I had a brother. But she hasn't, so I know I don't.

I just have her and the castle staff. I don't even have a father, since he died before I was born.”

“So that's what she's been telling you? That your father, our father, is dead? Well, he isn't. He was sent to the light kingdom and ended up falling in love with our mother. She had twins, you, Solaris, and me, Adiran. But I was born with a dark sider's red eyes and purple markings, so she didn't want me or our father. He took me back to his home and told me about the light side every single night. He told me everything, especially about you and mom. He loved mom, and still does.”

His eyes widened, “B-but, my father is dead, sometimes I hear her cry about how much she misses him.

“Then tell her. Tell her to stop crying about us and see us again.

Have your birthday gift be making your mother happy.”

Solaris nodded, going to his mother to help stop her grieving.

He saw his mother just reading a book she had read a million times when he found her.

“Mother, I have great news for you! Father is still alive and he still wants you! My brother told me everything! He says that father still loves you!”

“But he's a dark side. Yes, he was sweet and caring and kind, but it was out of deception. He can’t be a nice guy, that's not how dark siders work.”

“Mother, I've read about them in books. I've had my mentor get me books from the other side and tell me stories about them. As a spy! He said it was just the same, and the books agreed. Maybe we could even make an alliance with the dark kingdom! We could boost the economy, get more land, combine us all into one kingdom!”

She sighed,“Well, I can try to talk with the current king. I don't trust him though. But I will try. Maybe we could make something work.” She was hesitant, however, bettering the society and having a good economy with happier citizens is more important than a separation And so, the queen tried. She set up a meeting with the dark king. And while they didn't see eye to eye on how the arrangement would work, there were other options. Both royals understood the benefits, but they kinda hated each other, so the dark king decided to let Dolan make the decisions with her on how the alliance would work. Over the following months, the two bonded once more. Dolan and Lexi decided to unite the two kingdoms completely, making pathways in the woods so people could come from one side to the other. The dark king agreed to step down, agreeing with the reasons behind it. They remarried, and set up the future for the eventual twin rulers. And the kingdom thrived and prospered for many centuries after.

15

Stairway to Heaven Parker Averill - XI

“...the audio brings an entire image into my head. Colors that wrap around my brain and tug away from the piece” - THINK STRAIGHT PG. 20

W h e re I ’ m F r o m Greta Zastrow - X I am from the place that’s not for everyone, the capital referenced to the man on the penny.

On the outskirts of the city, cornfields o’plenty.

I am from evenings in the summer marshmallow mustaches decorated with graham cracker crumbs.

I am from the coffee table in the basement where I busted out dance moves like no others, leaving me with a sense of nostalgia linked to steelheart’s band.

I am from grandma’s chocolate fudge, and rummy at the adults table.

I am from the glow of a punk, hot dogs and colorful sparks that paint the night sky.

Somewhere just barely out of reach sits a file, a period of time that feels impossibly far away.

But I am from those flashes, that captured every moment through my mother’s camera lens.

Illuminated Chimney Rock Lilly Hanley - XI 18

My little world Kay Stearman - IX Bump bump bump, was the only sound that was playing in my ears It was loud then quiet and as the first words were spoken my mind went into its own place drowning out the rest of the world.

All of my problems were washed away I forgot about the fighting and yelling in the background and imagined myself in a safe place away from the noise.

The place my mind went to was dark but safe and I knew no one could hurt me there no one’s words or looks could get me.

And as the song ended the world went back to normal but it was still the same.

The yelling and fighting was still going on but I wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying.

I just went back into a new world with the next song.

Galaxy Sandra Hartley -1 9 X

Think Straight.

Parker Averill - XI Here I sit, listening to Beethoven’s 9th Symphony 4th Movement “Ode to Joy”, conjuring ideas of what could be and what couldn’t be. Universes, stories, worlds, and settings flow through my head…

Bum bum bum bum bum, bum-bum…

Here I sit, riding the wave of consciousness...

Bum bum bum bum bum, bum-bum-bum…

The music calls me, pulling my mind away from the task at hand. It asks questions, ones with answers, sometimes with questions underneath them…

Bum bum bum bum bum, bum-bum?

Bum bum bum bum bum, bum-bum…

As tedious as it feels on paper, the audio brings an entire image into my head. Colors that wrap around my brain and tug away from the piece...

Bum bum bum bum bum, bum-bum…

I now have no choice but to look away, or do I? Bum bum bum bAnd just like that,

20

My nerves calm, Regaining the ability to focus yet again, Back to the tedious uncomfort of thinking and denying, Pondering and forgetting, Guessing and second guessing, Bum bum-bum-bum bum bum bum-bum-bum bum…

Where is that coming from?

Bum bum bum bum bum, bum-bum…

The music has been paused, but the questions still questioning, Bum bum-bum-bum bum…

And the answers, still answering…

Bum bum bum bum…

Was it ever the music in the first place, or something more?

21

Ta l k i ng i n m y m i n d Liv Cogdill - X MeMy left mindMy right mind-

22

Hold on. . . for just one minute No, stop thinking that No, you’re fine No, you’re wrong- no you’re wrong Will you stop fighting please? I need to focus Do you really though?

Yes. . .

Lies. . . you use writing, drawing, and other ‘distracting things’ to escape It’s true, it’s true and you know it Can you please just go back to what you were doing but quieter?

Why? Because you know we’re right?

No, I know you’re both wrong and such but eh Come on kid, we all know you want to escape Escape what exactly?

Reality, pain, anxiety, depression, your mind, us to be more specific I don’t.

You do I really don’t though You know we care for you, but you also know we’re right Are you?

Yes! But you’re still wrong You see how she looks at you How he looks at you I worry for you kid Why? I’m fine Define fine please That I’m okay But you’re not, you’re really not Then you define what I mean, you are me after all Fearful

In a different place, not of peace obviously Hey! Not happy, not sad- what’s the word Right?

Uhh emotionless?

No not that ya idiot Hey! Ah depression?

No, still not right Well I don’t know and you clearly don’t Stop. . . both of you, please W-wait! Don’t cry! Don’t cry! You can’t cry kid!

Shut up, I’m not gonna cry. . .

It’s okay, kid. We’re here You’re tryin’ get into my deepest points, y’know that, right?

Me? No! Me! No, both of you Oh whatever, anyways. . . are you really okay, kid?

Yes! For the goodness and well-being, yes!

Hey kid. . . you look like you’re gonna cry again But I’m. . . not. . .?

Well you want to, you just can’t It’s not weakness It is, but eh It’s not!

Quiet Oh crap, someone’s comin’ over Language Left I’m not the one getting in trouble, now am I? Do you want to get smacked? I will make it happen No. . .

Can you not?

Meanie Whatever, I got to get back to work- rather not get overwhelmed, thanks See ya later kid, you’re gonna do amazing things You ain’t gonna be alone, you got your friends and family I could be surrounded by so many people and still feel alone, thanks but no thanks You ain’t alone we’re here too Yeah, yeah, be back soon Bye kid Smiles Bye. . .

Serenity Kraus -2XI 3

A F ad e d M e m o r y Ko r b i n E i s e n b a r t h - X The idea of what a person has Is actually different from what they possess, Fo r a p e r s o n c a n e x p r e s s t h e m s e l v e s But I wonder who I am alone Backstories Upon Backstories have led to you But who is that One minor thing can offset everything, The smell of vanilla along with Smiling together And a simple touch Have faded from the person of who you once were A d i s t a n t m e m o r y, Almost like the light at the end of a tunnel A guessing moment With thoughts running wild, Yo u r m i n d i s s t r o n g e r t h a n y o u t h i n k Yo u w i l l i s o n l y w h a t y o u b e l i e v e A figment of reality T h e o n e t h i n g t h a t p e o p l e h o l d d e a r, Love Burden is what it is Any love can lead to pain But pain brings love A nexus Fo r m e d f r o m a c i r c u m s t a n c e o f a c y c l e A black hole, In the eyes that sink deeper the more I look Where you fall in and can’t escape Pulling you in closer Till you can’t escape The destroying you No one knows We c a n ’ t t e l l The time will tell Each person's fate An empty place Dark and forgotten, One lit lamp on a sidewalk T h a t f l e w a w a y, Leaving the others alone in the dark Until a new morning comes To s e e t h e l i g h t t h e y h a v e m i s s e d Until they fall into the darkness again.

A simple hope changed by one thing,

One heart destined for hate Destined for hate It’s time to wake up F r o m t h e d r e a m y o u h a v e m a d e y o u r s e l f, Time to get better It’s hard when you give something you’re all Because then you realize you have nothing to gain Pe o p l e s a y i t ’ s g o i n g t o b e o k a y What do they know about me?

Fo r I o n l y s e e o n e p a t h w i t h o n e w a y In a world of competition Victors succeed And the conquered leave At 50% What happens to the conquered?

They fall victim to what could have happened To w h a t h o p e y o u w i s h e d y o u h a d Fo r w h a t y o u b e l i e v e i s s u c c e s s Can also means failure I believe that one set back can help me succeed I have tried my best But does this help me succeed A wall has been set up against me In order to protect something, Yo u m u s t a l s o s a c r i f i c e Hatred is born trying to protect love and this can not be separated,It is eternal Everywhere you see light Shadows will follow Wa n t i n g p e a c e Initiates war But the selfish intent of holding onto what you love Will leave you lonely I don’t know who I am But am young And my backstories have made me I don’t know how to express my emotions And I don’t know how to talk But those distant memories have made me Wishing they could come back, To w h a t w a s

Hope Taylor Cumblidge - XII

W hy C a n’ t W e B e E q u a l Tyler Chapman - XII Why can’t we all just be equal?

This phrase reappears into my head, Hour after hour Even after sleeping it away, that night in my bed Who said we aren’t equal?

It’s the “Snowflakes” thinking they have control When in reality they’re just a blackhole, trying to suck the future into the dark.

When have we not been equal?

Centuries ago it began, when some white boy took this land And claimed it as his own, well, man it’s not.

Once you made this place “your” home The natives were forced to go “Indian removal act, 19th century” What makes us not equal?

Our basic rights are being stripped away, while the rich sit and You don’t want to listen, but when we show you, we’re called terrorists, gangs, cultivists.

Where are we not equal?

In this land, made to be free we’re not and that’s because of these men.

These old rich white men.

How are we not equal?

You tell me.

It could be the innocent black lives murdered in their homes or the migrants kept in cages because they’re criminals?

The list goes on. But you don’t want to listen

Untitled #7 Estrella Uribe Villegas - XII

Tears for Equality Lana Huetson - XII

Identity N at a l e e K e o d o u a n gd y - X I I am mistaken My people are mistaken Our culture is mistaken Some are not as privileged So…

I am not a virus I am not the cause of a pandemic I am a citizen I am just like you I am American I am Asian

I am trying to prevent it I am following the rules I am not the cause, It can’t be helped

I am here because of sacrifices made by my parents I am here for better opportunities, a better life I am my ancestors’ legacy but...

28

I am fading away I am fading away with every generation My language My celebrations My traditions

Sadly, I am not able to carry on I am not what it used to be I am not as cultured but, I am what lives on I am only the first generation

Strong Axel Rivers - X

29

A Beautiful Nig h t m a r e Angel Manzo - XI She was the sun. His sun. The reason he’d wake up. His entire world revolved around this angel. When he was with her all his demons would run and hide away, scared of this new found light. No matter the time of day, she still provided the light for his life. During the days she was his sun, and during the night when the utter darkness took over, she’d turn into the stars. She was an angel, and he was the devil. She was sweeter than honey, with eyes resembling the glistening ocean on a sunny day. Her hair is a dirty blonde and when she’d take it down from the messy buns she always had in, it was like honey pouring from the bottle. The body of a goddess with her thick thighs hiding all of her pretty lies. He was crueler and more heartless than an assassin. His eyes a dark blue and always carrying an ice cold glare, colder than the arctic. His pitch black hair challenges the darkness that covers the night sky seeing who’s can be darker. It dares to hide his eyes, as if to cover up the pain and sadness his eyes hold, though one would be able to see if they looked hard enough. She fell for him. Hard. The all time sin, The forbidden fruit. She didn’t fall because she loved bad boys, or to be rebellious. She chose him because even though he’s a villain she knows that he’d tear the world apart if it meant she was safe. He’d sacrifice the world, including himself, if it meant she was happy and safe. No matter how hard it was or how much torture he had to endure. That’s the biggest difference between a hero and a villain. She knew a hero would sacrifice her for the good of the world but a villain would gladly sacrifice the world for her. She’s his entire world. No one else matters. She is his light. It truly was a crash between good and evil. Heaven and Hell. Pure and impure. Light and darkness. He is her fire .

The reason she rebelled. Her new moral compass. When she was with him all her rights and wrongs turned to mush. Her heart once covered in caution tape is now free. Free from the oppressions and pressures of society. Her overthinking mind halting like there’s a blockage in the road ahead. Her once glistening eyes now dark and filled with the unknown. Her smile that could spread for miles and brighten anyone’s day now a simple devilish smirk. No matter the time of day, he is there providing a new darker path. During the days, he’s her guardian angel. And in the cover of the night, he’d finally show his wings. Taunting, daring, promising the world in return a simple, easy deed to be done. Utterly captivating. Their love

30

truly is a beautiful nightmare.

Dream Catcher Ana Reyes - XI I like to help you calm your nerves.

Whenever you have a bad dream, I catch it and never let it leave.

When I do my job, I like to stay calm.

Being scared is inevitable but If I’m scared then you’ll be scared.

I’d do anything for you to not fear me, I am only trying to help you.

It breaks my heart when you can’t sleep at night.

The way you pant, Your loud breaths, Your sweaty front and Your sweaty palms.

The way you roll around your bed Left and right.

Yet, All I can do is watch from the closest point yet The farthest as well.

I have a limit though.

I’ll break when I am filled with your nightmares.

And when I break, All of those nightmares will come alive Like they once were in your sleep.

When I talked to your nightmares they whimpered and said, “We are not the nightmares, they are”. . . .

You don’t get it do you?

You are the monster monster,, You are the nightmare nightmare..

Not them, nor us.

Just you you..

Untitled Jet Muskie - XI

In Due Time Nyamal Rik - XII

“I am afraid to raise a child Only to see them become Hidden and alone” - I AM AFRAID PG. 38

Not so Strange Stranger Batool A. - X Looking into my mirror after a long day, I jumped.

I noticed a strange face with an odd stare.

Not behind me, not next to me, but looking me in my eyes.

The stranger was standing right infront of me.

I couldn’t recognize who I was looking at.

Who is this monster? What do they want?

Trying to keep it cool I ignored it. it’s been a long day, I’m just tired.

Just as i turned around and tried To walk away, the person on the other side crept behind me.

Frozen. I couldn’t move.

Looking out of the corner of my eye. the stranger stopped.

Why were they staring at me?

Chills ran up and down my body.

I started to shake.

What do you want! No answer.

I said, What do you Want!

Again, no answer. slowly but With courage, I turned around.

I have to look the monster in the eyes. i looked into the mirror and touched My face in terror, trying To feel my features. My nose, mouth, I saw no difference between me and the stranger.

The stranger mimicked my every move...

I started to panic, understanding what was happening. this is not happening, absolutely not!

I was slowly not able to recognize myself. Drowning In my tears, I never realized. Is this the consequence One suffers from negativity? Selfishness? Or even hate?.

It surely struck me in my face.

My past of hate, I’m a monster.

That’s no stranger, it’s me.

34

Off-White Misery Mennah Al-Turfa - X Misery.

A state of feeling great distress or discomfort in mind or body.

Being sad, suffering, in pain.

Misery is not the kind of emotion you want.

It’s the kind of emotion you feel when you hate the whole world but you don’t know why.

The kind of emotion that makes you warm with salty tears and cold with hopeless thoughts.

Misery is something we all feel.

In the past, in the present, and in the future.

Misery is happening right now.

Not just for us, but for them too.

Misery.

A state of feeling a great distress or discomfort in mind or body.

Misery is the disappearing land.

The thick coat of fur that is getting too hot and too heavy for their frail famished bodies.

The rising sea levels and the warm atmosphere.

The corporations making millions and the innocents paying with their souls.

Misery is guilt to us. For them? Misery is death. Eventually. Soon. Way too soon.

Misery is the fact that we can stop this, but we don’t.

Misery is the metallic taste of blood and the horrid smell of gas and the rising CO2 levels.

Misery is the sound of helpless cries and heaving breaths and the ecosystems being destroyed.

It is the deafening silence, after we lose our companions.

Misery.

A state of feeling great distress or discomfort in mind or body.

Misery is your fault. My fault. Our fault. The one thing we can all agree we did.

Misery is the good dying young, or never having the chance to live.

Misery is being human in a world that gave us much more than we deserved.

This isn’t about you, or me, or us. It is about them.

Because misery isn’t about the human race.

Misery is about being a polar bear in today’s world.

Hopeless. Hurting. Endangered.

Misery is an off-white polar bear being stripped of its soul.

35

I say you say Axel Rivers - X I say I’m sorry for existing You tell me I shouldn’t be sorry I say I am ugly You say I am not I tell you I’m fat You say I am not And I say these over and over Hoping to convince you to see me how I see me Hoping to show you the error in your thinking But the part of me that hopes you stay also hopes you never see me the way I do That’s what it was at first anyway Then I found myself saying these things Just to hear you say that I am beautiful That I’m not as worthless as I think I am That I am more than I’ve ever thought of myself That I am important To know that someone cares about me even when I don’t To feel that rush That high of feeling worthy of being alive

Untitled #10 Estrella Uribe 36 Villegas - XII

Oblivion Abbie Taber - XII I trudge my way through a field of sharp thorns Bleeding profusely yet still I push Onward Further and further Because the rush is never enough My emotions are always on overdrive The rage, the numbness, the anxiety all consuming Satisfaction a dream I can barely perceive Shrouded in oblivion As I fall into the maelstrom of my mind I am reminded Reminded that it didn’t have to be this way That I chose my own path Forced my way through My burdens are my torment Piled on by my own hands Haunting me like malevolent spirits Shoving me into a sea of constant terror There is no refuge to seek No exit to be found Only the same field Stretching beyond the horizon And yet Still I push Never wavering Forever pursuing a shelter in this oblivion

Nature Clayton Grant - XII 37

I Am A

Ali Franci I am afraid to raise a daughter only to see her become battered and bruised, gaslighted and ignored, fighting to stay afloat in a storm where the lifeboats are reserved for men.

I am afraid to raise a son only to see him become cold and hallow, told over and over feelings don’t matter, accomplishments do.

I am afraid to raise a child only to see them become hidden and alone constantly told who they are isn’t natural rejected by a world that thinks gender should only come in two flavors.

I am afraid to raise a person only to see them become trapped and lost, being hated for finding love, for being different.

I am afraid to raise kid only to see them become full of hatred and loathing they target at themselves brought up in a world insistent on dragging them down insisting they’re not enough until they believe it too.

38

Afraid

ncisco - XI I am afraid to raise a human being only to see them become timid and terrified, keeping their head down, for their race ethnicity religion keeps a target on their back, glowing red.

I am afraid to raise a generation only to see it become the symbol of hatred and pressure it fought so hard against, submitting to “the way the world works.”

Bound Ideologies Hajer Al-Eid - 39 XI

I had a friend whose arm was scarred I had a friend who kept me on guard If I wouldn’t text back and 10 minutes flew by “I could kill myself In the time it takes you to reply” This I hear from a suicidal friend Rushing to my phone to try to hit send On another message, on another lie Saying I know she’ll be perfectly fine 12 years old, I felt panic spike “Her life is in my hands” was what it felt like I was 13, my depressed friends would come They’d tell me their woes and I would grow numb I looked at my school for some scars on an arm By how many I saw, it raised an alarm 16 years old, texted a friend from the ledge “He won’t die tonight” That was my pledge He was only 14 and yet his sadness rung Isn’t he too young?

Too young?

Too young?

What should he do with what he knows?

What would happen if he were to disclose: His girlfriend is sad, angry at herself She’s looking at the keys up on her shelf Wondering if she should drive off a bridge

Too Yo

Naomi Chamb Wondering if life is worth it to live Knowing it’s been like this for too long Knowing for years she just wants to be gone What should he do as he grabs his phone?

The choice is too much to handle alone Her parents would know and it would ruin her life But her fate is hung on the edge of a knife 9-1-1 calls are sure to bring trials Will mistrust ensue when that number he dials?

Now will no one know when she’s breaking down?

Now who feels the blame when the body is found?

Good inquiries all, but the question I envision Why was a freshman faced with this decision?

This is the question that leaves my lungs Wasn’t he too young?

Too young?

Too young?

Adults around me are shocked at the news of suicide Why? Haven’t they gotten that “goodbye” text?

Haven’t they wondered who they’ll miss next?

Didn’t they get that strange message at night?

Scaring them of the news that will

Young

amberlain - XI come at daylight?

Depression affects more than just those who have it They’ll look for a savior but you will be unfit Try all you want but it’s a double-edged blade Yet still you chase and you try to persuade It’s a feeling that on your shoulders rests a life When you, yourself, don’t know what life is like And don’t even think “Get adult help and it’s done” Because even still, you are the only one They tell all their fears, they trust with their fate Now close your eyes and pray you don’t make a mistake “It’s suicide if you dump me” Even if it’s a lie An eighth grader could not just sit idly by Her anxiety rises as she leaves the school It’ll hurt to continue but it’s a risk to be cruel It’s only her now and she has to try So what is left to do but to tell him a lie?

And as the dull taste lingers on her tongue I ask myself, aren’t we too young?

Too young?

Too young?

Ink Blot Nelson Ramos Diaz - XII

I don’t care if we’re dramatic, if you say we’re just kids I’ve let too many tears slip past my eyelids Does it matter if we’re stupid, dumb, and immature?

I just wanted to keep all our childhoods pure “I have no real friends here Except for one” He told me that right before the semester was done He killed himself on that winter break They who know of whom I speak, I’m sorry for their sake I heard that announcement in Ms. Gardener’s class A moment of silence, too quickly the thought will pass So what I am saying is that frankly I’m done I’m done watching all my emotions grow numb I don’t care if it’s drama or if it’s a lie Just please tell me that that person will survive Can someone more equipped just do something please I’m trying all I can, I’m down on my knees Adults, they try and there is kind of a system But can we get to work? Because I know that they miss him Can we do something so that we’ll never have to say What I’ve been asking all during this day So that for the last time this anthem is sung Weren’t they too young?

Too young?

Too young

The Shadows of our Childhood

Story and Art by Paige Steiner - X

It was the same day seven years ago that we lost our first member of the group, and here we are losing another. I would never have thought that I would be saying goodbye to Caleb in the same spot that I was forced to say goodbye to Hailey. Even then, Caleb wasn’t the only corpse to lay upon the forest ground today.

Hi, my name is Alex. I am a highschool boy who lives in a small townthe name is not of any importance- which kind of dislikes my two best friends and I. Not that we create trouble, but everyone has claimed that we are “dangerous” ever since we were kids. Which doesn’t make sense because we’re just three simple teens. I mean, I for one am the generic white teenage guy- chocolatey fluffy hair, and eyes that reflect an oceans color. I dress as if a lumberjack met a jock. I love making people laugh and smile. Being so generic, why do people act as if I’m going to turn around and punch them? Anyways, enough about me; let me tell you about my horror story.

We parked the truck outside the familiar yet mysterious woods we would always visit as children. The crisp autumn air blew the golden leaves off of the canopies of the trees, softly placed on the ground for our feet to crunch. The sunset was covered by the thick and foggy forest, hiding the rays of dwindling sunlight. After pulling the keys out of the ignition, I jumped out of my rusty old red truck. I patted the doors as if they were snare drums, “Get out losers, we’re here!”

“You sure you want to call me a loser?” Lizzie jumped out of the passenger seat with a scoff. She brushed her long espresso colored hair with her fingers and tossed it to her back. Her eyes glowed golden and narrowed even more in the sunlight while her tan skin illuminated like freshly melted milk chocolate.

Her wardrobe was questionable as she looked like you’d see her later that night in a train station with her shirt pulled over her nose, skateboard in one hand and spray paint in the other. This description may have been a perfect match for her personality.

“Dude, how could you get it wrong? She’s looking for the word ‘punk,’” Caleb smiled slyly. His voice rumbled due to the deepness of it. He grabbed his ball cap from the back seat and placed it on his head backwards, hiding his ratted curly blonde hair. He pulled his hoodie sleeves over his hands and patted his nike clothed shorts down so that the wrinkles disappeared. His carmel eyes glowed in the sunlight, the rays making his light brown freckles more clear. “But hey, at least you ain’t dressed like some teenage running away to pursue his life dream of being a lumberjack.”

“Whatever man,” popping the collar to my flannel, I knew it was somewhat true. “Let’s bounce gang.” “‘Bounce?’ You from the 70’s or something?” Lizzie couldn’t help but giggle as she raised her eyebrows.

Rolling my eyes, I jogged in front of them a few strides and decided to change the subject, “How’d y’all do on that math test? I think I may have passed it.”

“Yeah sure, ‘may have.’ Tell that to the hundie in yo grade book,” he

42

shoved his hands into his hoodie’s pockets, “Pretty sure I flunked it.”

“Me too,” Lizzie scratched her head, breaking her tough persona for a split second. “My parents are gonna be so mad.”

“I’m sure you both did fine, don’t get yourselves too down about it.”

“Easy for you to say, I got a football game on Friday man. If I fail, they won’t let me start, let alone play.”

The three of us continued to talk about school, giggling at different rumors and venting about which teachers gave us the most homework. After a few minutes of walking, we finally reached the old creek we used to pass by playing leap frog along the rocks. As the years passed, the water obviously became stronger because we could no longer see the boulders placed kindly along the running stream. Instead, we found a fallen tree not too far off. Reaching the tree, I place a hand on the hollowed out trunk, “Guess things change, huh?”

“Guess so,” Caleb lifted himself up onto the tree and strided along the trunk, “Must be motha nature telling us not to play leap frog.”

“That’s how you took it-” Lizzie couldn’t help but let out a small snort as we lifted our gaze to him jumping over each other along the bridge.

“Dudes, you’re really making me look like the mature one.”

“Oh yeah, tell that to your teddy bear you cuddle at night,” she jogged across the bridge to catch up to him and laughed.

“Says the one that still has a hello kitty bedspread-” words could not explain how fast that girl turned around and pushed me off the tree. I landed in the stream on my butt and let out a small sigh of pain, “looks like I won’t be sitting for a while. Or dry for the rest of this reunion.”

Caleb lifted me out of the water swiftly as they both giggled at my mishap. We continued walking and recalling memories of our childhood hang, soon enough we arrived. The shabby teepee we created with fallen branches of trees and diminished cloths and pillows still stood weakly by one of the biggest trees in the forest. Caleb was the first to speak, “Looks like a new gang has taken it over.”

His strong hand pointed towards the murder of crows.

Lizzie swiftly pulled her shirt over her nose and scrunched it, “What’s that smell?”

“Bet it’s a rotting corpse,” I punched her arm lightly and grinned sarcastically to lighten up the mood, but as I stepped closer, I couldn’t have been more right. I stared in horror, memories slamming into my mind of why we left this place to rot. Screams of the name Hailey seemed to ring through my ears, my eyes unfocusing more and more as the fog surrounded us in the forest.

“What’s wrong with you man-?” Caleb placed his hand on my shoulder and glanced at the body in the same horror as me, “Lizzie, phone- now. I’m reporting this.” She tossed her phone over to him, having left his in the truck. His hands shook as he dialed the three numbers. His voice quivered as he desperately repeated his greeting, “Hello?? Hello- 911? Is anyone there? Hello?”

His voice was cut off by loud static that seemed to echo throughout the forest. He dropped the phone as the static grew louder, but it wasn’t quite... static. We listened to the phone closer, narrowing our eyebrows. Deep breathing came out of the phone, murmurs of untold sentences sounded.

“Caleb, Lizzie… we need to go. We’re not safe here,” I felt my unfocused eyes move to their faces, searching only to find fear. “Let’s just report it to the police station when we get back.”

Their nods were enough of a verification for me to start jogging back to the truck. Minutes seemed to drag on as we moved throughout the forest. My mind was clouded, but seemed to clear just enough to realize we should have

43

44

reached the creek by now. I searched the trees for some sort of resemblance of our path, and what I saw next shocked me. I skidded to a stop in front and put my arms out to stop the other two. “Do you see that?”

They narrowed their eyes, only to open them back up in shock. In unison, “Run. RUN!” Swiveling around, the three of us fled back to the hangout. Sprinting faster than we ever have before, we ran from it. Tears flooded down Lizzie’s face while Caleb and I’s breath heaved from our bodies. The mix of her tears and our breathing seemed to shatter the forest’s silence. We knew we found our way back to the hangout when our noses scrunched from the rotting corpse’s stench. That’s when we saw more. We stood for a split second in horror, “Caleb, take Lizzie. I’ll split. Get back to the truck, NOW!” Time froze as I ran through the forest. I hurdled fallen branches and boulders that seemed to stick out like a sore thumb, stumbling every once in a while as I looked back. My mind swirled as if I was in the middle of a hurricane.

Anxiety of leaving Lizzie and Caleb behind, memories of the forest, flashbacks of Hailey, everything seemed to crowd together and race in my mind. What happened here all that time ago? Have I made the right decision? Will I survive this chase? Lizzie… Caleb… Please make it out alive. Seven years ago we stayed together and Hailey was ripped from sight, but why her? My thoughts kept turning the gears in my head as I ran, searching for an exit to this dark forest. Everything seemed to disappear as I ran except for the loudness of my mind. The only sense I had was my hearing, listening to the sounds of murmurs behind me, the sound of them breathing. Then everything seemed to unfreeze as I made it out to a clearing; a very familiar clearing. I finally found the truck.

Only seconds later Lizzie came stumbling out of the woods, her voice was loud, shrill, and horrific, “Start the truck! We have to GO! GO!” They towered over the trees, their murmurs echoed throughout the forest. Their shadows spread across the meadow of the clearing, strange because all they were was a shadow. A blackness in the sky, a hole in reality. Their murmurs turned into whispers of laughter. Frantically, I searched the lines of the woods for Caleb to magically appear, hoping he would stumble past their shadows. We reach the truck quickly, slamming the doors. Before I could even start the truck, Lizzie’s scream rang through my ears. Not but a second later, the windshield seemed to crack before our eyes, and our vision blackened by something landing on the car. I put the car into reverse as quickly as I could, whatever it may have been blocking the windshield slid off the hood of the truck.

That’s when I realized it wasn’t what that hit the truck but whom.

Caleb’s body left stains of red on the windshield and splattered the hood of the truck. In complete shock, I turned the truck creating black smoke in the meadow.

Lizzie’s tears ran down her face harder than a waterfall. “What the heck happened-?”

In between breaths and tears, her voice quivering, “H-He broke his ankle… He told me to go… He hid in the bridge’s trunk, t-they must have got him.”

“Who are they?”

She pointed behind us in utter terror, “the shadows.”

My mind was pounded with flashbacks in black and white. Hailey’s name popped up in every single frame, and I was a bystander, watching myself and my old friends. My mind went black for a split second, we were standing across the stream. Caleb on one side, Lizzie and I playing leapfrog in the middle, and who I assume was Hailey following us close behind. Hailey slipped off the rock, screaming for help, her head bobbed up and down in the water, her foot

seeming to be stuck on something under the water. The three of us stood there, smiling. The murmurs became more clear to me; goodbye Hailey, you weren’t welcome here.

All I could remember about Hailey was her tagging along with our group everywhere. The three of us never really understood her, we never tried to either. She thought she was automatically a part of our group because we would mask a smile while talking to her, did she never realize that we intentionally walked a few paces faster? Hailey never deserved what happened to her, she was innocent in a group of imposters. She may have been innocent, but her innocence brought us resentment to the real smile on her face. She didn’t belong with us, and we all knew it. We all made the decision in our minds to watch her drown.

We all knew that this was our chance to finally get rid of the extra piece in our little childhood game.

“Alex! You’re still driving!” She grabbed the wheel as I began drifting off the road, bringing me back to reality. “ Lizzie, do you remember Hailey?” My eyes focused on the road now, I spoke with no emotion.

She hesitated before answering, “I remember Hailey… she died in the forest, it was an accident, we tried to save her.”

“Lizzie, we killed Hailey. It wasn’t an accident. What we were running from, what we have been trying to forget for years…”

“That was us,” her eyes seemed to unfocus now as she gathered her thoughts.

“They’re coming for revenge. They… The shadows of our childhood.”

45

ADDICTION Kylie Bauske - XII No phone call No birthday visits No father to be here Mom would always say you were “sick” So I would remain content thinking you would come home eventually because “You loved me” At 13 I understood that “sickness” was really addiction For months you would be skinny like a giraffe’s legs Then the next you would look as full as a bear It became a cycle from sober to suffocation Your addiction kills It got into your head Spreading down to your toes The rotting of your teeth To the staying awake for weeks Your addiction kills The things you once loved Now you hate I tried to understand and give you my hand But you pushed it away Now we havent spoke in years I still remember the tears From watching that needle push its way into your life and through your skin From the scars on my elbow because of you And from the absence of a father I once loved Your addiction kills Not only you But the daughter that trusted you would be free of a drugs grasp Only for you to fall back into that same trap Your addiction kills

46

Jealousy is a Golden Puppy Kathleen Nguyen - X No moment is the same When you are treated less I drift away like the snow of responsibilities with no one else to blame For their anger and coldness only forces people away A glimpse of sadness pass through like a title wave Wonder why people begin to turn away I tell myself, “you are wonderful” Oh I wished things were still the same, Like the polaroid photo we took on a sunny day Their lyrical words are more appealing to the ear Then why bother saying a thing Exhale, Inhale, I wished I was just as good like a gold treat Laughter and smiles filled the room My unknown feelings hid in my dark paws, Forbid on telling the truth Everything felt so happy Not until I met you Silent screams caught my attention The shocking truth, I believe I should be amazing just like you Do you ever feel afraid, Of being like me too?

47

Silly Litt

Zatharian Silly little boy, Don’t you know?

They know the truth, they Just don’t care to help Silly little boy, Don’t you know?

He just wants your body, Why did you let him have you Silly little boy Don’t you know You are pathetic Crybaby, crybaby Silly little girl Don’t you know?

You’ll never be a girl Girly girl, girly girl Silly little girl, Don’t you know?

You’ll never be “okay,” Yet your answer will never change Silly little girl, Don’t you know?

Mommy wants to see you smile, Bigger, bigger, bigger, Silly little girl, Don’t you know?

You mustn’t cry,

ittle Boy

rian M - IX Big girls don’t cry Silly little girl, Don’t you know?

You must grow up soon, But will you?

Silly little child, Don’t you know?

The world will never accept you, You’re a little girl Silly little child, Don’t you know?

You’ll never be happy, So just fake it Silly little child,, Don’t you know?

You’ll never see yourself how you want, It’s never what you want Silly little child, Don’t you know?

They hate you, Or do they?

Silly little boy, Be strong

Heart Nelson Ramos Diaz - XII

Underwater Axel Rivers - X I sink lower and lower under the water I see everyone above having fun They are so close I can almost touch them I am so close Yet so far I know I will never be able to reach them I know they laugh at me The fact is that they were born knowing how to float And I was being born destined for only one thing To sink The harder I try to float the lower I go They tell me all I have to do is to float I try and try but I can’t They don’t understand They’ve never sank in their life Because they were born to float

Garden Moons

50

Lilly Hanley - XI

Raccoon Skull Melissa Konz - XII

51

Obsession Reagan Klein - X It all escalated so quickly.

I couldn’t even tell you how it got so bad.

It became an obsession instantly.

Went from only watching how many calories you ate.

Down to every single little macro.

10g of fat?

Too much.

More than 50 grams of carbs?

You should be ashamed of yourself.

More than 1,000 calories a day?

Go workout for two hours and burn every single calorie you just ate.

That was my mentality for two years of my life.

It slowly ate away at me.

My depression became severe.

Food became my biggest fear.

Untitled #2 Estrella Uribe Villegas - XII

Living in my Head Hannah Farr - XI Go ahead, Knock on the door.

I’ll open it And welcome you inside.

The only catch is: There’s a thousand screaming children.

I’m the only adult here To tame these little rascals Who are scattered and screaming And scuttling around like bumper cars.

I’ve tried to catch them, Even just one.

But I’m only one person And I only have two arms.

Two arms for a thousand children.

How impossible.

Every time I take a step towards a child They snicker and take two giant leaps back.

I reach and reach, But they only fall further away.

Most of them are aimlessly running around But others are hiding in bushes Or in tall trees.

I know they’re there, But I just can’t get them.

So many thoughts And I can’t even catch just one To put in my mouth And speak my own mind.

Untitled #5 Estrella Uribe Villegas - XII

53

Floating Brain Calie Estrada - IX The Angry , screaming , shouting.

Fighting , pushing , along with hitting.

Depression , thoughts , pain.

Deep thoughts crowded your once child brain.

It’s dark and scary , as the demons surround you.

You’re stuck and can’t escape , living the same day over and over again.

The constant yelling , the wanting to let go.

But how ? How do you even leave everything behind?

The memories , the laughs.

The things that used to haunt your dreams , are now much worse than you could ever imagine.

And The pain you feel as your fists hit the smooth walls.

Your screams echo around the black prison.

“Let me ou-” But suddenly , there’s a shine of light ?

The warm glow of the afternoon sun.

The happiness floods into your soul.

Killing the demons that were once living within it , leaving nothing but a vast ocean of calmness behind Peace and hope is all you have now .

You look outside and don’t see the dark vast abyss anymore.

And it’s like you can finally breathe The air is so crisp and clean “Take a seat” your brain whispers “And allow the happiness to wash over”

54

Letting Go Estrella Uribe 55 Villegas - XII

Perfectly Peaceful

56

Hailey Smith - X

What is Overthinking?

Anonymous - X I am the late nights you spend laying awake I am the thoughts in your head that seem to never stop I am any and every mistake you have ever made I am not comfort

I am constantly making you second guess everything I am the reason you will never be satisfied with your choices I am all of your past opportunities that you missed I am not comfort

I am the continus arguments you have with yourself I am the constant warfield inside your mind I am years worth of self doubt that has piled over countless times I am not comfort

I am why you are always so indecisive I am the reason others get upset with you I am the cause of many past breakdowns I am not comfort

I am a nightmare while you are awake I am raging thoughts that fight to take over and will not stop I am the cause of every single one of your past broken relationships I am not comfort

57

“I finally got m Butterflies that make yo Butterflies that wondering how you

- BUTTER PG.

t my butterflies you forget your worries at keep you awake ou got so lucky.”

TERFLIES . 73

Darkness Rises and Light, to meet it Laura L. Perez - XII

I A l w a y s Knew Adriana Reyes - X that living in a place like this and raising my kids here wasn’t something to be proud of.

But at least I’d give my best effort.

I would raise them above the water.

And make sure that they don’t sink.

Because even if I am vanishing in my deep dark sea, they would be the beautiful glowing stars that I would gaze at as I’m being pulled deeper.

Looking up from my deep dark sea.

A Beautiful Enclosure Alaa Al-Yasseri - X

memento mori quia memento vivere Lily Teten - IX

Life and death You can’t have one without the other One is inevitable and one is a one and a million chance You cannot be scared by change, by endings and new beginnings, by death even Breath is not a given item in your taskbar Life could be taken from any one of us at any second This is why it is crucial to live while we can To do the things that others can no longer do and to pave the best path for ourselves You want to be able to look back upon your life in your last days and know that you lived every single one of them to the best of your abilities Remember to live because you will die

Skeleton Yin-Yang Axel Rivers - X

61

Goodbye Hannah Farr - XI Goodbye is the hardest word to say When someone leaves Never to return.

Goodbye is the hardest to say When it comes so suddenly.

One day you’re happy as can be And the next day you’re gone.

Just gone.

So today we say goodbye.

We say goodbye To all the good that you have given us, To all the change you have brought to life, To all the kindness that you’ve spread Like cotton blowing in the wind.

Today we say goodbye.

We’ll miss your voice, Your booming voice That we could hear across the house.

We’ll miss your smell, The smell of you Stuck deep in the basement Where you always sat alone in your chair.

62

Today we say goodbye To you, To all that you’ve let us become, And all the time you’ve watched us grow And succeed.

We say goodbye To good times spent with you.

But we are forced to move on, And we are forced to laugh Sometime after you have gone.

Today we say goodbye To all that you have given us.

To all the laughter that was shared, All the voices that have sung, All the times I’ve asked you to be my Valentine, All the smiles that have gleamed as one While you were here by our sides.

We all expected you to jump out From under the table, Laughing, As if it were all just a big prank.

We just couldn’t accept the truth.

So today we say goodbye To someone so special.

It’s too hard to open our mouths To say that word.

See ya later alligator, “Don’t let the boogeyman in.”

Flowers on the Water Kaitlyn Michaelson - XII

63

i P h o n e N o t e s : D o c u m enting My Tho u g h t s : F i r s t G e n e r ation Student Edition Marissa Mendez-Santiago - XI Sixth Grade: I have come a long way from where I was on my first day of kindergarten. I was a timid five year old, eyes flooded with tears every morning, and too shy to even say a beep. I can’t say that I enjoyed this school year, because that would be a complete lie. While this year was filled with lots of memories, both good and bad, I can’t ever seem to fully like school.

This isn’t something necessarily new. I have never really liked school. In fact, I can even say I dislike school so much that I once reached a point to where I absolutely hated it. The reason for this? Well, without realizing it at the moment, it was the fact that I was a first generation student. However, I didn’t really know this at the time as I was only a kindergartener. This meant that I was the first of my family to go to kindergarten in the US, and I absolutely hated everything about it.

I was only five years old but I felt alone and lost. I didn’t have older siblings to tell me what kindergarten would be like. I had to gather the small amount of courage I had to make my way through the towering front glass doors of my school each day, fully oblivious as to what awaited on the other side. Every day, a large knot, which was like the size of a golf ball, would build up inside my throat and fill my eyes with tears. As I made my way inside the building with my long dark brown wavy hair in pigtails and a lunchbox in one hand, I would turn around to wave a sad goodbye to my mom. It felt as if I had just entered a fighting ring, where I would have to tackle many obstacles those first few years. Some of my opponents in those fights included having to learn a new language, making new friends, and adjusting to the new environment. This is what built that strong dislike for school.

Seventh Grade: Today was one of those days when the truth finally sinks in, and sinks in hard. I finally realized what it meant for me to be a first generation student. Yes, for the longest time, I have known and have been told I am a first generation student, but not until today did I realize what that meant for me.

64

This all happened this evening as I was waiting in the car outside my siblings’ bible study class for the dismissal bell to ring. I was in the passenger seat next to my dad and had my chromebook out with my 7th grade English essay glaring at me. I laid my head against the chilly window, causing a blanket of goosebumps to fill every inch of my body. The gray, dull, and sunless sky were a reflection of my mood. I looked further beyond to see children enjoying the perfect fall evening, running through the pool of crisp leaves that covered the ground, while I was stuck in the car doing homework. I thought about how unfair this was; I had to come home from a long day at school just to sit and do even more schoolwork while others had the time to enjoy the last few perfect days of the year. Just then, without even realizing it, I blurted out the three words that had been boiling up inside me like a kettle about to explode. “I hate school.”

These three words were enough to start a deep conversation with my dad.

He told me more about his childhood, and how he had to drop out of school after 6th grade in order to work the fields under the scorching sun everyday to financially help his father and older siblings support his large family of nine.

This was enough to change my perspective on school. I was shocked to hear this story about my father’s childhood. All my life, I had thought of my father as the smartest person I knew. He could always help me with math homework, English essays, and history lessons. He had done all of this with such little education. I couldn’t help but feel guilty for hating this opportunity I had to attend school, an opportunity that my dad had yearned to have. I am determined to fulfil their dreams while accomplishing my own goals. I am determined to attend college.

Ninth Grade: The start to a new chapter of my life in high school was definitely an upgrade from my very first day of kindergarten. On the first day, I no longer walked up the enormous building with a trail of tears like I had done nine years ago. Instead, the wind brushed back my long and frizzy strands of hair as I ran to the entrance to meet my friends and the new school year with a radiant smile. The past three years in middle school flew by, and I can’t imagine how fast the next four years will go by as well.

While I want to enjoy high school as much as possible, I also want to stay on top of my studies. It seems as if I have all of my family’s eyes on me. I need to end with a perfect 4.0 GPA, take rigorous classes, and be the studious person I have been until today.

While at times this feels like a burden packed tightly inside my backpack along with my

65

thick textbooks, all weighing down on my shoulders to carry, I am determined to accomplish these goals. Even though my parents have not directly set these standards for me to follow, it is a challenge that I have set for myself and I am determined to conquer it. I will win this fight and finish undefeated.

Tenth Grade: When I thought about my future and looking back at my sophomore year someday, I imagined a lot of things, but surely not a pandemic. This year started off strong. I found myself spending more and more time at the counselor’s office receiving advice on courses and opportunities I should be taking. I wanted to make sure I was staying on top of everything. This year was also my first time taking an AP class, and let me tell you, I had no idea what I had signed up for. I came into high school with the goal of taking challenging classes to help me learn and grow, and APHUG definitely accomplished that.

The afternoon I received the score from my first test is a memory that will forever be engraved into my mind. It was one of the fears of a first generation student, failure. While I hadn’t actually failed my first test, it was definitely not the score I had hoped for. I was sitting in the second room to portable 5 outside during 8th period Student Council when all of a sudden, there was great commotion coming from the sophomores...the scores had been entered. At that moment, my heart began to race and my hands became clammy. I picked up my phone and slowly opened up the StudentVUE app. I felt anxious to discover whether or not I would get a chance to experience the feeling of acing my first college-like exam. I clicked into the course and an eager smile was immediately erased off my face, making me feel as if the life in me had been drained.

I didn’t know whether to cry at the moment or hold it back. I tried to look around the room to distract myself but I couldn’t help a few tears that were fighting their way out. The last few minutes of eighth period that day felt eternal. I went home and cried until it felt as if I had squeezed every tear out and there were no more left. It might not have been such a big deal for any other student but for me, it was as if I had landed back on square one, back to when I was in kindergarten, alone and lost. That day was one of my first real encounters of a challenge as a first generation student. I had learned a lesson, a hard one. Not everything goes as planned, there will always be obstacles in the way, but the real lesson is how we learn to grow from them.

66

T h e He a r t o f E a r t h Zakary Muir - XII

[Title]

Life’s Journey

John Smith XI

P a r k e r A v e r i l l - 7X1I

[Title]

Eyes Kylie Hill - XII

Butterflies Axel Rivers - X When I was little I was told that feeling butterflies would be magical But at some point I must’ve forgotten that butterflies weren’t supposed to feel like dying Like giving up Like regret Like pain Like nothing Whenever I talked about having butterflies it felt wrong It hurt to have butterflies It made me feel worthless and ugly It made me feel like I was alone Like I had nowhere to go Having butterflies wasn’t the experience I was told it would be But I finally met someone who gave me butterflies Real butterflies And I realised that what I had been feeling was caterpillars Slimy caterpillars Everytime I thought I had butterflies I realised it was one of the caterpillars dying Dying because of my lying Lying to myself That I was happy That it was worth it I finally got butterflies Butterflies that make you forget your worries Butterflies that keep you awake wondering how you got so lucky Butterflies that give you the high of feeling worthy of being alive Butterflies that make you feel good inside Butterflies that you don’t want to stop feeling I finally got my butterflies

73

“This is nature's world Surrounded by its beauty I can find myself within it.”

- PARADISE PG. 84

Light Through the Storm Serenity Kraus - XI

Rose in the Shadows Sienna W. - IX I’m the color of the rose; The one you give to your love The one that says “I love you” without a word The petals spiral out to make a beautiful sight But everything has two sides “Every rose has its thorns” If and when they prick you it draws another red This one from you not me I am the color of the darkest night; The one that hides in the shadows The one so many are scared of Weather it be because of the unknown within Or just the concept of not having control But as we all know Deep within the dark there almost always is light

76

My Drawing of a Rose Rebecca Davidson - X

Soulmates Moon Bunny - IX I do not know you And I do not wish to .

I am in love with the thought that I have about you .

And it may be selfish but i'd like to keep it that way.

We are not together and we may never be .

3,000 miles or 50,000 miles apart We may never meet but a string of red tugs onto my heart telling me to keep faith and think about only you .

Joy Sorrow Fear and love We feel these together because we are connected by one heart and one soul .

It may take years but I'm willing to wait because I have a feeling that I'll be floating on clouds once we meet .

Kouyou & Haru Hanna Tran - XII

77

Punk Boy Tobie Schaad - XII My name is Wren. I am new to Belleview Highschool in New Jersey. Ever since the first day I have been bullied horribly. There are ranks here. Gerard and his gang are the top dogs. No one messes with them. Next are the popular girls ruled by Becky, then the jocks. After that… are the victims.

I could have had it great but I turned down the Punk Boy's offer. I've regretted that ever since.

It was the second day of school. Gerard came up to me before class started.

“Hey. I'm sure you've heard of me. I'm Gerard.”

I pulled out a notepad I kept in my pocket.

‘You are the one the spiky haired kid told me about. You are the top bully.’ I glared at him. I hated bullies.

He almost looked hurt as he read it. “Wait.

Before you get that impression, this school is horrible. You either work your way to the top or you fall and you get beat up daily, and I think you're cool, so I'm going to ask you to come with me. Stick with me and my friends. We aren't bad, I promise. We just do what we have to do to get by.”

I shook my head and pulled away from him.

‘I can handle myself. Oh, and by the way, sorry, but I took your seat.’

Was it rude? Probably. Did I care? No. He was a bully.

“Hey, new girl! Why don’t you talk, huh? I wanna get to know you. Do you think you're cool not talking?”

How could I say anything? I was mute.

Not that she knew that. No one did except Gerard and his friends, and only because his mother was new friends with mine.

Becky slapped me and yelled at me to talk before shoving me down. Her group began to attack me, kicking anywhere they could. I curled up to protect myself before grabbing at a leg and pulling hard. One of them went down, which broke their circle and allowed me to escape. They rushed after me and adrenaline kicked in.

I ran into the cafeteria where some kids were trying to skip class. They acted like everyone in the halls and ignored us. I leapt over a table and caught a glimpse of Gerard and a group of guys chasing after us. That distracted me as I ran out to the patio area and Betty caught me. She shoved me to the ground as her group wreaked havoc on me.

One kicked gravel into my eyes and everything was a blur after that. The next thing I knew, I was being helped up and led down a hall. I opened my eyes and blinked away the blurriness. It was Gerard. He had a steady arm around me and was leading me down a deserted hall into a guy's bathroom. “Will you take that deal now?”

He took care of my wounds in that deserted bathroom. His friends kept watch. I was Every day after that I could barely make it having a dilemma the entire time. Was through first period. Gerard and his buddy, Gerard really not that bad? From what I had the spiky haired kid whose name was Frank, seen he only beat up anyone who challenged sat next to me which was the only reason I him or tried to hurt his friends. His friends was safe. Becky and her gang were eyeing seemed like nice people too. Frank was a me like a pack of hungry wolves every day. I little weird, but anytime I saw Mikey around kept calm on the outside, but on the inside I in class he was quiet and relatively nice. was a mess of nerves.

Sometimes he would talk to me. It was a relToday, the bell rang and I walked calmly, atively one sided conversation since I wrote but hurriedly to my second class. If I could my answers and wasn't sure about him. He make it I would be somewhat alright. I talked about his brother to me often. didn't make it.

I wanted to tell Gerard that I would take his Becky grabbed a hold of me and slammed me deal. I wanted peace. Though, as I searched against a few lockers. I winced. around for my notepad, I realized it must

78

have fallen out. Gerard noticed this and called to Ray, his other group member, and asked him if he would go find it. Ray nodded and gave me a reassuring smile before walking off. Gerard then pulled something out of his pocket. I stared at it, shocked. He held a notepad. “I normally don't carry one, but since you don't talk I wanted to make sure I could always be able to communicate with you.”

I blushed and accepted it. He really wasn't all that bad. I had been wrong to judge the punk. So I wrote down that I would accept his offer. As he read it, a childish smile spread across his face. He sat down on the counter with me and slung an arm around my shoulders. “Welcome to the group, Sugar.”

I thought now I could just go through my life in peace. Nope. Gerard was determined to do… something. First, he came up to me and slung an arm around my shoulder during lunch. “Hey, Sugar. You know what? You look like you're bored. Wanna watch Ray eat a crayon?”

I looked at him and shook my head. He then sighed and walked off grumbling. I looked to the other guys sitting at the table and Ray shrugged while Frank chuckled and Mikey rolled his eyes. What was going on?

Then, as I went to my locker to shove a project in there, Gerard tailing me, Frank burst out of it. I stepped back unfazed and he grumbled before saying, “It didn't work.” They grumbled and walked off. I stood there confused.

Finally, the end of the day came around and Gerard just looked upset. I placed a hand on his arm and he shrugged it away. So I growled silently and grabbed his arm before dragging him out to the bleachers. ‘What is up with you today? You and the guys have been acting really weird! Is something wrong?’

Gerard sighed. “Wren, I like you. I like you a lot…”

I stood there stunned and suddenly he pulled me into a kiss. I reciprocated it before Becky came out and ruined it.

“Gerard! I wanna talk to you!”

“I'm busy Becky!”

“Don't make me say it.”

Gerard froze up and then brushed some hair from my face before turning and walking to

Becky. They talked for a long time behind a wall as I sat thinking on the bleachers.

Right as I had just decided to walk home, Becky came out. She grabbed me by the shirt and glared down at me. “Stay away from Gerard or I'll make sure you get bullied so hard you'll need an ambulance!”

Then she stormed off.

The next day I went to find Gerard but couldn't. He normally waited for me at my house because he lived right next to me. I was worried. First period he didn't even look at me, but Frank was talking to me like normal. When lunch rolled around I went to confront Gerard. That's when I saw him at the table with his arm around Becky and her lips on Gerard's. It hurt. The guys saw me and looked down sympathetically. Mikey got up to come talk to me, but I shook my head and walked away from them. Becky laughed and then looked to Gerard and whispered something in his ear.

I walked out of the cafeteria, the guys calling out for me to come back. I didn't hear them over the pounding of my heart.

After that I avoided Gerard.

It had been two days. Mikey cornered me and told me he and the boys were trying to make Gerard see that Becky wasn't who he wanted. He told me it was weird.

Gerard hated Becky and he had been trying everything to get me. Mikey said he had never seen Gerard so gentle and so worked up over a girl. I wrote that he should just leave them be and then after he read it I walked off. The day droned on and I was too sucked into my little world to care what was happening around me. I liked Gerard too. I liked him a lot. I hated that he made me feel this way.

“Gerard, what has gotten into you?”

Mikey asked me.

I sighed before answering, “Becky wants to tell everyone Wren is mute and she told me that if I didn't date her Wren would be free game. We can't watch over her every second of the day so I… I said I would date her. At least until I can figure something out. Now, I asked you: where is Wren? I want to tell her what's going on. I want to tell her I'm sorry.”

“She hasn't been seen at school today.

Actually, no one has seen her since I talked

79

to her in the last period yesterday and she got called out of class.”

“Is she okay? I haven't seen her at all for days.”

“Dude, Becky is already beating Wren up badly. You need to dump Becky and go find Wren. Tell her how you feel. Me and the guys will figure out something with Becky, but Wren probably left because she looked bad. Becky got her good yesterday.”

“Alright, well then she is probably at her house. I need to go-” The teacher cut us off. “Class, I have to announce this since there is a pending investigation. Wren Lane was found severely injured in a park last night. She is in recovery in the hospital right now. Any and all who may know what happened must speak up.”

I didn't hear the rest. Me and Mikey looked at each other before we asked the teacher if we could go to the bathroom and then took off out of the school through the bathroom window. Frank and Ray were already at my car. “We heard what happened. Let's go!”

I shook my head. “You guys go first. I'll meet you there.” Then I rushed back into the school. I made it to Becky's hallway and found her standing there smirking. “Hello, Gerardy Baby.”

“Becky, we are done. I don't like you.

Actually, I hate you.”

She stood there gaping like a fish and I ran off to see the guys still waiting for me. I leapt into the car and Frank sped off. “Who let Frank drive?!” I yelled as I clenched the seat for dear life.

We made it to the hospital in no time. I'm surprised we weren't pulled over. I rushed ahead of the guys and reached the front desk out of breath. “Wren Lane's room please.”

“Relation?”the front desk lady asked boredly.

“Boyfriend. Now please let us go see her!”

“One at a time. Room 354.”

I nodded to the guys and we all rushed to the stairs, refusing to take the elevator. Too slow. By the time we reached the third floor we were all completely winded. That was when I spotted Wren's mother walking out of a room. I rushed to her. “Ms. Lane! Is she alright? How bad is it? Is she awake? What happened? Who did this to her?” I spoke fast.

She grabbed me by the shoulders. “Slow

80

down. Wren is okay. She is scared and she is in pain, but she is awake and the doctors say she will be fine.”

Relief flooded me. “C-Can we see her?”

“They said only one visitor at a time… but I won't tell. And you boys are supposed to be in school, but I'm glad you’re here. Go on, before the nurses come and we get in trouble.”

I smiled and hugged her before walking slowly into Wren's room. She laid on the bed hooked up to an IV and a few other machines. Her brown wavy hair was a mess and her pale skin was even paler. It hurt to see her like that. There were bandages over some areas of her body. She looked over to me and the boys who filtered in behind me with dull hazel eyes. Mikey gave me a nudge and I shook my head and stepped aside. The guys walked up to Wren and talked to her for a bit before they walked up to me. “Go for it. We will go get some food. We promised Wren we would sneak her up a burger.”

Frank winked and Ray nodded with a grin.

Mikey patted my shoulder and then they left.

Gerard took a shaky breath and walked towards me. I teared up and looked away. He started to explain everything to me. “... and then I found out she was doing it anyway and that all she did was separate us… Wren I am so sorry. I like you. I like you so, so much. I wanted to ask you out when you confronted me…”

I smiled a pained smile and looked at him.

“P-Punk B-Boy.” He went wide eyed and looked at me. I coughed after I had said that. I had been in an accident which meant that if I talked it would injure my throat further so I wasn't supposed to. Which meant that caused me pain, but it was worth it. “Don't do that. I know it causes you pain. Here.” He handed me a notepad.

I wrote, ‘Well I said it because I like you a lot too and a little pain means nothing to me if it means finally getting to call you that.’

Then he leaned in and kissed me.

High school sucks. Belleview High sucks.

But it doesn't matter. I have best friends anyone would kill to have, and most importantly, I have my Punk Boy.

Together Christopher R. Down -81 XII

I am From Hamdiya Mumade - X “I am From” I am from my Mother The person who I go to for all my worries Who speaks to me in native tongue The native tongue I understood but fail to speak I am from my Father A big dreamer who taught me optimism And a hard worker who always pushed me further “Remember, work hard for the things you want” He would say, never forgetting to remind me the next day I am from the motherland, Kenya Emerald green grass and wet season showers And the mighty aroma of my mom's hot coffee The sweet taste of the candy which I ‘borrowed’ From my family's small store Complaining the next day about a toothache I am from Ramadan Nights The special dishes my mom would make That made fasting all day undoubtedly worth while Remembrance and prayers for the poor and hungry I am from Minnesota Winters cold beyond my words Fun snowboarding days with friends hot chocolate at the fire making fun snowmen Whom we put our own beanies and scarfs Naming them as we went along

I am from my great aunt's kitchen Where I accidentally burn myself half the time Learning to cook my family's dishes Laughing over a story of her younger days While I cooked as she instructed I am from “You're such a good drawer” Sketchbooks piling up over the years Cringing every time I looked back at them Wondering how I managed to think they were ‘good’ I am from late night movies with my siblings Only watching horror for the thrill And camping in our parent's rooms every night Because “I swear I saw a ghost in the hallway” I am from long playlist jams With my little sister Dancing along to our favorite songs And laughing our heads off I am from “Shhh!! he's sleeping!”

Rocking my youngest brother back and forth As he snuggles in my arms Hoping he doesn't wake up for the 100th time I am from my ups And downs The good days And the bad I am from the collection of my experiences Along with fun memories I treasure Blended together to create me

Breath of Life Taylor Cumblidge - XII

Paradise Kylie Bauske - XII The sky was vastly blue As the sun peeked through This nature is made of beauty From the roots of the trees To the branches birds call home The wind surrounds me like a blanket does a baby And the sounds of this nature is Earth’s music The rain tells secrets And the soil has roots of history I remember the first time I saw a bug Their little legs carrying them silently to their destination The destination being unknown All around me is their home This is nature's world Surrounded by its beauty I can find myself within it I see the golden brown sap bleeding from the trees As the ants flee in fear of its sticky trap Oh how small their world is but yet so big to me A monarch whisps past my eyes and flutters silently away This Danaus Plexippus gives off vibrant tones Oh how I wish this could be what I call home Here I can render my thoughts And not feel like such a bot The world can bring pain But here I can find my peace

84

Growth Faith Siders-Fushia - X Dear the person I used to be, Just stop, it's not worth it.

Put away your proud grin and petty insults, the sense of being better, and the need to always fight. If you are a soldier then your sword is dull and your gun is out of bullets.

You sliced and shot imaginary targets in your head, acting superior to false ideas.

Put away your sassy tone and stupid games, the want to see others suffer, and the curiousity to probe in further. If you are a king, then you will be overthrown by the truth.

The ego-boosting thoughts that make up your subjects will turn on you, and break down your palace of glass walls.

Put away your hypocrisy, your lies, your pride, and your secrets. Admit that you are weak, a coward, and a mess. It is better to leave and be happy than be fighting and miserable. Forget your weapons, forget being superior, forget the angry warmth that will leave you cold in your grave.

Just stop, it's not worth it.

From, the future you

Untitled Jet Muskie - XI

Istoria Staff

Back Row (Left to Right): Chelsea Sanchez-Rodriguez (9), Liv Cogdill (10), Kendra Limon (12) Front Row (Left to Right): Ms. Hill (Advisor), Parker Averill (11), Christopher Alvarez (12), Abigail Taber (12), Serenity Kraus (11), Ms. Cartwright (Student Teacher) Inset: Faith Siders-Fushia (10)

Final Thoughts For those of you who submitted your work to us, thank you for making it possible. And to those of you reading this right now, thank you for picking up this copy of Istoria, eating the words and drinking in the artwork. By opening these pages you’re not only supporting our staff, and this publication but the amazing student authors and artists who submitted their work to be published.

This magazine is in part about sharing students’ work, but this book is also for the reader; two halves to make a whole. Each one would be unsuccessful without the other. It is our Equinox. The balance between the artist and the consumer is equal and it provides balance. It may not be equal all of the time, or at the same times, but rather it ebbs and flows. Art is responsive to life, and life is influenced by art. It has always been this way, and we find joy in knowing that it will continue. And it starts with you, both the creator and consumer. You have your own Equinox inside of you. Life won’t always be easy, but we can look forward to the bright spots when we are in the middle of our dark ones.

88

“Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I’ll rise.”

-Maya Angelou