Bits of Flint 2016

Bits of

Flint 2016 2014

Front Cover by Carly Evans Co-Editors – Carly Evans & Emily Fryklind Front Cover: Faculty Advisor – Henry Krusiewicz Art Department Faculty Advisor – Tracy Shell

Editor - Miranda Janzen Faculty Advisor - Henry Krusiewicz Art Department Faculty Advisor - Tracy Shell

Contents Fine Art

By Braska Patterson……………………………………………….……… 1 Art

By Jasmine Jirsak………………………………………………………... 1 Thankful

By Tyler Ripperger………………………………………….….. 2 I Am Me

By Bianca Haag………………………………………………………... 3 The Old Man

By Megan Wherley……………………………………………………...4 The Power of a Sacred Song

By Philip Booze…………………………………………………………5 Bicycle Stride

By John Peetzke……………………………………………………6 That Shack

By Megan Wherley……………………………………....7 Art

By Sarah Rowe…………………………………………………..8 Morning’s Comforting Confinement

By John Peetzke……………………………………….………9 Art

By Emily Reeves ………………………………………………………..9 No Lemons, No Melon

By Keaton Eisenmenger…………………………………………….….10 A Dangerous Lack of Focus (Excerpt)

By John Peetzke…………………………………………………..11-13 Art

By Collin Wade………………………………………………….……..14 Mosquitos

By Keaton Gracey………………………………………………….…….15 Under the Bed

By Keaton Eisenmenger………………………………………………….……15 Breaking Point

By Carly Evans………………………………………………….……16 Garage Truck

By Mollie Shevlin………………………………………………….……17 Rusted

By Tyler Ripperger………………………………………………….……18

The Mistake

By Emily Fryklind…………………………………….…….……………18 Lost at Sea

By Philip Booze………………………………………………………19 Star and the Sky (Excerpt)

By Bianca Haag………………………………………………….….…20-24 Art

By Adam DellaMaggiora…………………………………………………..24 The Shadows

By Taylar Collins………………………………………………………..25 Bottle Bond

By Sam Valinne………………………………………………………26 Winter’s Life

By Grace (Moore) Spath………………………………………………………..27-29 Ballet Shoes

By Mollie Shevlin……………………………………….…….…29 Frederick Douglass

By Philip Booze……………………………………………..……30 Frozen Forest

By Sam Valine……………………………………………………31 Art

By Mercedes Dickins…………………………………………………………32 Pieces

By Tyler Ripperger…………………………………………………………33 The Caring Tornado

By Carly Evans……………………………………………….…34 Art

By Keaton Eisenmenger……………………………………………………….35 A Night in the Clouds (Excerpt)

By Sam Valine……………………………………………….…..36-41 Oxygen

By Keaton Eisenmenger……………………………………………………..…41 Art

By Rayelle Neuhaus……………………………………….……………..42 Dew Drop

By Emily Fryklind……………………………………….……………..42 Art

By Mollie Shelvin……………………………………….……………..43 A Villanelle for Mom

By Philip Booze……………………………………….……………..44

Fine Art

Thankful

Braska Patterson

Tyler Ripperger

Love is but a fine art,

I prayed this morning

crafted by da Vinci's two hands,

And again when I went to bed

smoothed by the melting of two souls.

I told God thank you

Held together by this unbreakable, eternal bond

For what he put in my head

that only scratches the surface of all the memorizes left

This mind of mine.

to be made. Illuminated in her grace,

A blessing and a curse

transpired by his kindness. This fine art of Love

That defines who I am

cascades through all the blindness.

Helps me write in a verse.

Restless and broken Smart and sharp Witty and humored Doubtful and dark.

Thank you Lord, For all that you’ve given: My talents and blessings, My never ceasing ambition.

Thank you the same For my ongoing struggle To find my rightful place

Jasmine Jarsak

In this world full of rubble.

I Am Me

The Old Man

Bianca Haag

Megan Wherley

Although I may act different, I’m really just like you.

My disability doesn’t define me, Though many find this hard to be true.

I may not always understand emotions, Or seem like I want to play.

But I love playing with legos and other toys, And wish you would all stay.

Sometimes I get angry, and may come off as mean.

But know I’m sorry for my fits; I’m not trying to make a scene.

Sitting in the coffee shop, I drink my delicious French Vanilla. An old man bundled up in a knitted hat and a warm patchy coat walks in.

He brushes himself off in the entry way and pulls off his hat gently.

Slowly but surely he makes his way across the room, nodding to me with a warm smile. Each step is as delicate as though he walks on flowers. A table sits close to two large windows, a rainy sun shines through. On the table, an unfinished puzzle awaits the old man. He sets down his things and pulls out a wooden chair. His face is mixed

Yes I have Autism,

with hard lines and calm blue eyes.

And I know you won’t understand.

His wrinkled hands patch a broken

But remember my disability doesn’t define me, I am just who I am.

puzzle.

The Power of a Sacred Song

Bicycle Stride

Philip Booze

John Peetzke

The rhythm of a culture,

Warm feelings ask the heart to race and bound,

Taught like secret myths.

Yet love is not a bullet train to ride.

The power of a people

Two wheels with pedals free that go around

Only worth three-fifths.

Are that which must be driven with great stride.

For true compassion doesn’t care for speed,

Songs made for the steeple, Sung through broken face.

Recharging all the souls, Deprived of human grace.

Endurance is the quality to trail.

For sometimes you will have to sweat and bleed; Give up so soon and you shall surely fail.

What is a bike that only lasts a mile?

Give it some time and then you’ll see its worth.

So sing it from your stomach, Show your strength by choice.

The power of the sacred songs, Lies within your voice.

Be patient friend and don’t forget to smile; This hasn’t changed, not since the birth of earth.

But do not wait too much and linger long; You have to start or else the love is gone.

That Shack Megan Wherley

Paint chips fall like leaves, gracefully landing on the dry ground.

A ladder heads up to the old shack, a bit wobbly in the summer wind.

The door cracks open; moth balls and 1954 newspapers rush at my nose.

It’s dark inside, yet the setting sun peaks through some forgotten thoughts.

A window lies ahead, boarded up and falling apart through the years.

The rusty nails challenge my dad and I; we win the battle together.

Colors shoot from the sun, spreading across the sky like a painted picture Melting into the dark night. A family gazes out the window While the pond glistens with memories. Three ducks sit on that pond.

Sarah Rowe

Morning’s Comforting Confinement

No Lemons, No Melon

John Peetzke

Keaton Eisenmenger

A bastille of the everyman that every hero must face A subtle intoxication that lulls the conscious will, leading it to the gallows The constant addiction begs that time stop and for the sun to never rise As the trance is more potent than any smoky fixation The soft airy bars stronger than any iron Beneath the sheets I am my own jailer

Art by Adam DellaMaggiora

You aren’t worth it.

Don’t ever believe You will be somebody in this world.

Even if you don’t think so, You are a failure.

People won’t ever say You have made a difference.

I wish you could see how No one loves you.

Thinking that Is such a waste of energy You know. It Makes me laugh Hearing all you have to say about life.

You have so many ideas And they don’t even matter.

You have plentiful imperfections, Give up now.

There would be no reason to Continue your life.

Now read from the bottom to the top.

A Dangerous Lack of Focus John Peetzke While my laugh started to falter, I couldn’t help but wander in his eyes. I couldn’t wipe the wide grin off my smug face. Devon’s face, in return, lit up, as if a genius idea had just been culminated.

“You know, when I’m not taking names in the great game of chess, I’m breaking it out on the dance floor,” he explained. He was a man of confidence and pride; I could practically read it off his face. “There’s been some pretty wild nights at the club you wouldn’t believe.”

Chess was my forte. A game of war and strategy. A game of sacrifices to bring about holy victories. I didn’t know a single thing about clubs. In a game of chess, I could match his swagger, but dancing? With so many people watching me, expecting greatness? I lowered my head and took his pawn with my bishop. Then I lowered my shaking hand below the table. I needed to focus on the game, and then maybe my mind would relax. I brought her out.

On the fields of blood and gore, most armies let an experienced knight or general lead troops to victory. Men in armor with shields and lances, mounted upon the finest Clydesdales in the land. I, however, knew the truth. No army was in better care than one following a lady. Not just any lady, but a woman of strength and intelligence who walked over corpses in regal dresses: the queen.

In four moves, two white pawns and a silver knight were cleared from the table. This happened sometimes, when I brought her majesty out. I dominated. Then after a small sacrifice or two, he was down a rook and a pawn.

“Bam!” I shouted when I finally took his own goddess.

“You can’t stop Amy Isenberg when she’s in stride. You just

gotta get out of the way!”

“I admire the quiet nights as well,” Devon said. My toothy beam wavered instantly. He described the silent nights reading by the fire, where only the crisp crackle of a newly started fire would illuminate the pages in an amber hue. His upbeat and creamy tone of voice faltered for a moment. “I do, however, wish I wasn’t the only one to enjoy those quiet evenings,” he started. “I just wish I had a girl to hold and to, you know.” He paused for a brief second and then said, “—to cuddle by the fire.” I nearly choked on my cereal. “It doesn’t matter your skin color, or where you’re from, but if a lady treated me right I’d do the same. Hell, I’d treat her awesome!”

My mind raced. Was he asking me out? What was he saying? I tried to micromanage some pawns, trying to take my mind from what he had just said. Was he trying to fluster me, to trap me in a tight seal of emotions so that he would take the game as my mind melted to the floor? Had he been doing this the entire time? If so, his plan was working.

“Wow. Yeah, that’s awesome Devon,” I stuttered. I was shaking all over. If I could just get back into my stride, everything would be all right. I moved the pawn farthest to the left forward. I was only two steps away from a second queen.

Devon took it almost immediately with a nearby rook. I should have noticed the rook, but it was hard to concentrate. Everything was going to be all right, I told myself. I knew it.

He took my queen.

That was bad, this was bad. The shaking was overwhelming. I had never been so flustered. I couldn’t think straight. If I didn’t calm down, who knows what would happen?

What if I went into shock or something? I quickly swallowed some of my drink to soothe my mushed brain with the smooth texture of the orange juice. Then I stopped, my eyes wide open.

I didn’t bring a cup of anything over to the table.

I was also deathly allergic to oranges.

I felt my face inflate like an assortment of hot air balloons that roam over the chilled winter air. I frantically groped the tabletop, knocking over rooks and pawns, waving my hands back and forth, searching for my purse. Where was it? I had brought the black bag over to the table only half an hour ago, but no matter where my hands searched, it was nowhere to be found.

My EpiPen was inside and so was my rescue. I might die, I thought to myself, right then and there, in front of this gorgeous man! Perhaps my purse was still in my room on the third floor, I thought as my mind raced back and forth. I tried to dash towards the stairs, but faltered over a chair in front of me. Lying there I tried to cry out for help, when I felt a sharp pain in my left thigh.

Devon had a relieved smile on his worried face, EpiPen in hand. “God, that was a close one. You gonna be alright?” Once more I was left in a state of shock concerning the man’s skills.

Where could he have gotten an EpiPen in such short notice? I glanced back to the chessboard to notice an open handbag near Devon’s pieces. The black purse hadn’t been there a minute ago.

Like my pawns from earlier, my smile fell. While I was picking myself up, Devon traced the gaze of my furrowed brow to my recently discovered property and his serene grin faltered. His confident eyes became uneasy. “Man, I sure made a good call back there; you owe me one,” he managed to stammer out. I approached him slowly, my merciless eyes backing him into the table.

My episode of flailing limbs had granted me an audience of the others enjoying breakfast in the lobby. I could feel that I still had their attention as I stared the deceiver down. He had no means of escape. “So w-what do you say to that?” he asked.

“Checkmate.”

Art by Collin Wade

Mosquitos Keaton Gracey

Breaking Point Carly Evans

Mosquitos are like humans,

His words sound like chocolate lava,

Stealing blood

As they wash over me, so sweet and warm.

Humans are like Mosquitos

Watching his eyes flutter from my eyes to lips

Stealing blood

Makes the streamers fluster inside me.

Ignorant?

As his hands move up my sides

Or shall it be intelligent.

I notice the air in the room become sparse in

For it spreads disease among

excitement.

The ones destroying the earth.

His breath washes over my ear And I feel confetti poke at my skin.

Under the Bed Keaton Eisenmenger Night. But I am awake.

On the edge of the room, my night-light is dancing.

Its aura is not still.

The glow is not patient.

The light spills And runs over my distant eyes, full of the ebb and flow of thoughts.

Only I am not focused on my false refuge.

Beneath the heat of my torso A savage being remains in silence.

He is not still.

He is not patient.

But sometimes‌ His words are like molten lava, As they wash over me, burning each square inch.

Watching his eyes as they harden Makes the streamers twist, tangle and choke themselves.

As his hands bawl up I notice the air in the room thicken in tension.

As his breath washes over my face I feel nails poke at my skin.

Rusted

Tyler Ripperger Tell me what’s in there Your beautiful mind If I could crack it open, one chisel at a time Would you spill your thoughts?

Would you unload your secrets?

Would you release the demons, who keep you from sleeping?

Perhaps I’d find nothing Just a few bits of dust Maybe your mind Is rotten from rust

The Mistake Emily Fryklind

Mollie Shevlin

Click… Swoosh…. the air breathes into the room as the door opens. There’s another person walking by me. Face down towards my phone, I pretend to do something on my phone. To the outside eye I probably look like a huddled mess sitting in this plastic chair. I cringe as my name is called, “Natalie Jones, the doctor will see you now.”

Awkwardly I stand up. My body cringes as eyes watch me walk towards the nurse. Shuffling feet, eyes darting about, why does everyone have to stare? My insides feel ugly; I know what I’m doing is wrong.

Star and the Sky Excerpt Lost at Sea

Philip Booze

I cannot speak of how I truly care, For all those men whose lives are lost at sea.

I love you son, and so I do declare A buoy in the wave you shall not be!

Mother listen, you cannot stop my heart For all I love is placed upon that ship.

This will not be the last time I depart I will return no matter what the trip.

Your father said the same before he left But he returned upon a tri-fold flag.

Until I see your face I will not rest, You too, will not be replaced by rag.

As patriotic feet walk out the door A broken mothers heart falls on the floor.

Bianca Haag Dad took Mom up to bed, and shut the door behind him.

“Hailey put the groceries away please. I’m going to put Mom to bed then I’ll be right down.” They had the door closed, but I was sneaky and tried to listen.

“I don’t want it to be back Tim, I can’t have it back.

What about Hailey..? Oh what are we going to do? What are we going to tell Hailey?”

“Don’t worry, everything will be okay. We aren’t even for sure it’s back again. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Make an appointment and we will go from there. It will be okay.” I could hear Mom starting to cry. Back again? I have no idea what’s going on. I could hear Dad’s boots stomp across the floor. I ran back to the kitchen to put the groceries away. I didn’t want Dad to know I was listening.

“What sounds good for dinner Hailey?” Dad asked me like nothing was wrong.

“Anything is fine,” I replied as normally as I could. I could tell they were hiding something and I was going to figure out what.

“I’m going to go work in the barn for a little bit, but when I get back, you need to tell me what sounds good for dinner.

Okay? And try to be quiet so Mom can sleep.” Dad took his dress boots off, and put his worn out work boots on and headed for the barn.

After Dad left for the barn, I decided to watch a movie to try to keep me occupied. I wanted to follow Dad’s directions, but it was just so hard. About fifteen minutes into High School Musical, I couldn’t take it any longer. I walked upstairs and quietly knocked on the door.

“Come on in sweetie.” I stood at the door for a minute

debating about going in. I had to know what was wrong, but at the same time, I was scared. I didn’t want anything to happen to Mom. “It’s okay, you can come in Hailey.” It took everything in me to turn the door handle and push open the door. I walked in and just stood at the head of her bed. “I think it’s time we have a talk Hailey. Let’s go out to the swing and talk about things.”

Mom started to get out of bed, but she was having some trouble.

I could see the tired look in her body like she hadn’t slept for days. After a few minutes, Mom finally got up all the way, and we made our way to the swing.

Once we got to the swing and sat down, we both just kind of sat there not saying anything. I could sit outside for hours taking everything in. I loved the way the horses smelled-the hay and dust lingering around. I could see Dad out in the fields bailing hay.

“Look Hailey,” Mom said, “Star is about to roll.” Star was our newest foal. I loved him so much. Mom said Star looked just like the horse she used to dream about when she was pregnant with me. We were keeping Star, and Mom said it was going to be my horse later on. She was going to teach me how to train him.

“So Hailey, we need to talk. Before I was pregnant with you, I was very sick. I was in the hospital for about a year.”

“What? Why were you there for so long?”

“I had stage three breast cancer. They didn’t think I was going to survive for a few months, but somehow I pulled through. They told me there was a chance it would come back, and that I would probably never be able to have kids.

Your Dad and I were heartbroken, but we never stopped praying and trying to have kids. And look, we got the best daughter in the world.”

“So, you haven’t had cancer this whole time?”

“No, the doctors got all the cancer out of me, and I came home. I haven’t had cancer for thirteen years.”

With tears creeping out of my eyes, I asked Mom the hardest question of my life, “But, it’s back isn’t it?”

“I think so sweetie. I can’t say for sure, but I’m getting sick just as I did before. I go to the doctor tomorrow, and then we

find out what’s wrong. I didn’t want to tell you just yet, but I

know how strong you are. I promise you, I am never going to leave your side.”

“You’re going to fight it just like before right? You aren’t going to have to be in the hospital for that long are you?”

I couldn’t imagine being away from Mom for that long. She was my best friend. There was no way she can leave for that long.

“Well, we will find out more tomorrow, okay? I can’t promise anything right now.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I had to get away. I jumped off the swing and ran to the pasture. I could hear my Mom yelling for me, but I just kept running. I couldn’t hear anymore. Back at the far end of the pasture, was a set of trees that made a little hideout. I went there and cried until it was pitch black out and I couldn’t cry anymore. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

“She’s over here,” my Dad yelled. I could faintly hear them yelling for me, but I didn’t know if it was real or if I was dreaming. Next thing I know, my Dad picks me up. He cradled me just like infant baby. I buried my head into his chest, and let sleep take over me again. Sleep was my only safe spot.

The following morning, I woke up in my room. As I lay in bed, reality slipped back, and I remembered the previous night. I got up and showered. I wasn’t ready to see Mom or Dad yet. I stayed in my room for what felt like most of the day, but when I looked at the clock it was only 10:38. I didn’t want to see my parents, but I knew I had to go see them at some point. It didn’t help that I was hungry either, so leaving my room was going to happen sooner or later. I finished getting ready, and made my way to the kitchen.

“Good morning Hailey. How did you sleep?” My Dad was acting as if nothing was wrong or that last night never happened.

“Morning Dad. I slept okay.”

“Mom will be home later this evening. She had to run some errands with Grandma today. They should be back before dinner” I knew exactly where they were, and it definitely wasn’t errands. Mom was at her doctor’s appointment. I just nodded my head, and went about getting a bowl of cereal. “I’m going out to the barn. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

And with that, Dad put his dirty work boots on, and headed for the barn.

After sitting for a few minutes, I decided I would go out and see Star and the other horses. The horses were the only ones that never hurt me. I could tell them anything, and they were like my own private, living diary. With the horses, I had no worries. I could connect with them on a deeper level than I could with anyone else. Mom and Dad and Grandma and Grandpa weren’t my only family. The horses were too. When I got out to the pasture, Dad had just given them their grain, so they were all up by the fence. I walked up to Star, and like usual, I gave him a hug around his neck. He is getting to be such a big boy. Star is actually starting to lose his crazy Mohawk mane, and it’s starting to lay down against his neck. He looked so different. I started to think about how Mom would look if she had cancer. I remembered seeing pictures of people with cancer. They had no hair, and life was drained out of them. I couldn’t picture Mom like that. I didn’t want to picture Mom like that.

As I was sitting out in the pasture with the horses pondering about everything, I heard gravel crunching beneath truck tires. Mom was home. I started to walk towards the house. I wanted to run up and hug her, but I couldn’t.

Something was holding me back, and I didn’t know what. I made my way across the pasture and up to the house.

“Well Miss Hailey. Come over here so I can give you a hug. I’ve missed you.” It was just the other day that I saw

Grandma. She always made it seem like we hadn’t seen each other in years.

“Hi Grandma. I missed you too.”

“Go inside and clean up while your Mom and I make dinner.”

“Okay Grandma. I’ll just be in my room.” I couldn’t even look my Mom in the eyes as I walked passed her to go to my room. I felt terrible, but I just couldn’t. I just wanted things to be okay again.

Emily Reeves

The Shadows Taylar Collins

It came quick, but it came with no warning, We went about our day, as children play.

We lived lives, but it started storming.

We hear a whistle, we hear it roaring.

A mushroom cloud rising above midday.

It came quick, but it came with no warning.

The dangerous fast winds start warming.

The bomb is near, yet we all stand astray.

We lived lives, but it started storming.

Can’t they see that the world is now burning?

There is no point, for it is too late to pray.

It came quick, but it came with no warning.

For it is too late, our skin starts charring.

Too slow to move, we are now the wind's prey.

We lived lives, before it started storming.

On the concrete our shadows starts forming.

Now, dead and gone, but the shadows will stay.

It came quick, but it came with no warning.

We lived lives, before it started storming.

Bottle Bond

Sam Valine

The thirst I have for it cannot be quenched.

Its everlasting grasp upon my soul Is something that I really can’t control.

A glass of golden whiskey I will clench.

I inhale aromas some think a stench.

I know this toxic poison takes a toll On my disappointing life as a whole.

My life is spinning like a socket wrench.

But I actually love this state of mind.

The only friends I have in life are booze.

There’s Jerry, Jack and even Hennesy.

This is the only time my life has shine, For I’ve had enough of all life’s abuse.

I wish to be buried in the debris.

Beulah Meyer Link Award Winner

Frederick Douglass Philip Booze

Oh how great the price that we have paid.

Whip me, work me and tell me I’m not free.

The soul within me no man can degrade.

No markings on the graves of brothers laid, No tears to shed for masters' eyes to see.

Oh how great the price that we have paid.

My peoples' hard earned freedom long delayed.

Another brute in field I shall not be, The soul inside me no man can degrade.

Hung from branches runners are displayed.

Our eyes afraid to look upon a tree.

Oh how great the price that we have paid.

The road to freedom is not neatly paved.

My worth to God the law cannot decree.

The soul within me no man can degrade.

This nations soul is in great need of aid, As many more are shipped from over sea.

Oh how great the price that we have paid.

The soul inside me, no man can degrade.

Ballet Shoes by Mollie Shelvin

Frozen Forest

Sam Valine

Imagine yourself completely immersed, Walking through a frozen forest.

The sparkling snowflakes gliding through the sky Continue painting the pine trees white.

The air is brisk, but has a sense of warmth That amazes the eyes of man.

Erased from society; a man With no reason to be immersed In the fallacy of the false warmth That society steals from the forest.

Nothing compares to the image of white.

Heaven has fallen from the sky.

Look up into the eye of the sky.

Within it lives your soul as a man.

God is looking down on the white, Frozen tundra that has you immersed In God’s wonderful creation of forest.

Do you feel the embrace of God’s warmth?

Society cannot contain the warmth That nature has upon the snow and sky.

The miracle of God is only seen in forest.

Away from all the sins that leaves man Obsessed, yet continue to be immersed In Satan’s eternal flame of white.

Embrace the cold and see the field of white.

Where there is no need to hope for warmth.

Let the beauty leave your soul immersed And come to visit God in the fallen sky.

Pieces

Tyler Ripperger Let her break you down, Crack you like a vase.

Spill your insides, See if the flower takes.

Maybe the glass shatters, And the water dries.

The pieces cut sharp And the blood flows on .

The stiches heal slowly, The memories don’t fade; The smiles and touches Stick hard in your brain.

The late nights you spent-You two and the silence Wrapped in each other Kisses long and violent .

The pieces don’t glue They don’t return to fit You love and you learn But it’s never the same Not one piece Not one bit.

The Caring Tornado

Carly Evans

I was so cold as you snuck in quietly to bring back your favorite zip-up, that rested as soft as your hand upon my skin.

I was so amazed, as the thunder boomed and the lightening zagged you breathed hotly on my cheek “I want more.”

I felt the icy water pelt harshly at our skin as your body covered mine head to toe, securely against the gray siding.

I felt the fear in your voice as our ears started to pop.

You whispered, “I love you,” as your fingers dug into my back and our world was wisped black.

A Night in the Clouds

Sam Valine

We finally got to the venue and there was a line of people that stretched forever. The sketchy thing is that the line curved into a scary alley along the venue, but with thousands of people waiting in line, it would be hard for a random bum to mug us. The people in line were different from me and Eddie.

We were both clean cut Mexican kids with comb-overs, but the rest of the line was filled with vatos wearing baggy clothes and Nike Cortez’s. We were also the only people who seemed to be sober. Everyone’s eyes were red and lit with marijuana smoke.

They looked confused and lost in the world. I wasn’t shocked by all of the stoners at the concert, since Berner is marijuana’s biggest advocate. Most of the girls in line had tramp stamped across their faces. They were covered in clown makeup and were wearing dresses that exposed their asses. Some girls were even wearing high heels to a damn concert. I guess some people just want to be groupies like no other.

After being patted down by security, we finally got in the venue. The Regency Ballroom was surprisingly very nice on the inside despite the crummy exterior outside. It looked like a ballroom that you would see in Beauty and the Beast or something, minus the gigantic windows. There were marble pillars that held the building in place and the ballroom had a huge floor. There were two levels to the venue. I walked to the ballroom floor and Eddie stopped me and said, “Bro lets go to the balcony.” “Why? I want a good view.” I said. “Dude I’m like negative six feet. There is no way I will be able to see with all of these tall people around.” “Fine,” I said, not being sympathetic to Eddie’s height issue. We went up to an empty balcony. We stood against

the railing for a decent view. The opening acts came on, but they were just lame rappers who only talked about weed and sex, and who could barely rhyme in general. They were forgettable.

After the opening acts, the main DJ took the stage and said, “Y’all ready for Uncle Bern?” The crowd went wild and music began playing, and Berner took the stage. He is way different in person than I had ever imagined from his music. He was a tall, chunky Mexican man who was bald and had a full beard. He looked to be around forty years old. I assumed he was young based on his lyrics. He then opened up with his most famous song, "20 Joints." As the song started, everyone, literally everyone in the venue, and I mean EVERYONE in the venue besides Eddie and me, pulled out joints and began lighting up.

Within seconds the whole venue was covered in a cloud of cannabis. The view of the stage became diluted with smoke to a point where Berner was now a masked figure. This was a critical miscalculation on my part. I though marijuana was illegal and a felony in every state, but I overlooked the fact that I was going to a stoners concert. The scent filled the room and it got to a point where all I was breathing in was pure THC. As the concert went on, the effects of the marijuana had taken over my body. My ability to focus was lost and eventually I was in a place where I couldn’t even hear the loud roars of the music anymore. I was on my own little planet and I was only focusing on all of the stoners in the crowd smoking their joints. I stared at each person in the crowd and as I continued to stare, I felt like I had known these people for years. I gave each person imaginary names in my head like Jesus or Frank. I looked at Eddie and he looked just as out of it. He was staring up at the ceiling and wasn’t even paying attention to the show.

After the show, we stumbled our way to the exit. Once we hit the fresh air, the high immediately wore off. I became sober within seconds, but I also became very tired. I hoped the

the brisk walk down the windy San Francisco streets would wake me up. I got to the car and I felt tired, but I needed to make it home tonight. We took off and I was praying I didn’t fall asleep.

We left San Francisco at about 1:30 a.m. Traffic was not a factor, so we drove through the Bay Bridge in fifteen minutes.

We passed Oakland and Emeryville in less than a half hour, when it took two hours to get across the bridge. Once we left the Bay Area, we were hit with a thick fog that made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of our faces. This made it even harder to stay awake. Eddie was in the passenger seat dosing off.

He was trying his hardest to stay awake with me. No words were said between us except when Eddie would yell, “Stay awake bruh.” “I’m not going to sleep don’t worry,” I replied although I felt my head and eyes becoming heavy.

My saving grace was the toll booth. For a mere five dollars, I was flashed lights in my face that woke me up for the moment. At least, that’s the only tolerable way to think about California ripping me off. I drove for about another half hour in the fog, when I literally nodded off and woke up right away.

Eddie said, “You okay to drive dude?” I ignored his question for a second and looked down at the gauge. I noticed the truck needed gas. I was near Vallejo, so I decided that at the next stop I would get gas and get some energy drinks to keep me awake, not matter how ghetto the area was. I went to a big gas station that was on the outskirts of the city. It was desolate, so there were no gangbangers in sight. I pumped gas and went up to the window of the convenient store and bought two extra strength Rockstar Energy Drinks. This would hold us for the hour and a half drive that was ahead of us.

I thought we were in the clear. We would get home safely, until I opened the door to the truck and then the strongest marijuana scent I have ever smelt in my life punched me in the face. My stomach dropped to my toes and I thought. I am

literally dead. The smell of the illegal drug seemed to be forever engraved in the interior of my dad’s truck. I knew the scent would be gone within a day or so, but my dad was going to take the truck to work at five a.m. I told Eddie, “Dude I’m screwed. My parents are going to kill me if they smell this.”

Eddie had a concerned look on his face, but he said, “We didn’t even smoke I guarantee you the smell is just our clothes from the concert,” “I pray to god, you are right,” and that is exactly what I did. I prayed to God that some way the smell would go away. I immediately rolled the windows down as I was travelling down the interstate at a harsh eighty-five mph. The harsh, cold wind was bursting through the truck and I couldn’t hear anything but the gusting wind. My skin became frozen with goose bumps. I was moving so fast that I was passing the California cities one after another. Vallejo, Fairfield, Vacaville, Dixon, and Davis blurred by. Finally we hit Sacramento and I thanked God for getting us home safe. I dropped Eddie off and he got out of the car and just before he shut the door he said, “Thanks bro, this was one of the best birthday’s I have had in a long time.” “No problem dogg, I had a blast too.” I said as he shut the door. Those words resonated with me and I felt good and I also felt I had made up for the lack of friendship last year.

I drove home and reminisced about how much fun the day was. I hadn’t had that much fun in the longest time, yet it was only me and Eddie. I have a ton of close friends, but there is really only one or two others besides Eddie, whom I would even consider taking a trip like this with. I thought about it and I figured out that what pulls me and Eddie together is we live the same lifestyle. Out of all of the friends in our circle, Eddie and I are the only ones working to better our future. Our other friends have their lives together, but I feel that that they have almost peaked in life. Most of them have full time, hardworking jobs, and although I feel like

they have a grip on their lives, it pisses me off that they have not tried to succeed in any other ways.

I feel like they have given up. All my life, my dad has taught me that I need to follow my dreams and go on and do big things. He has a hard-working job and he said giving up after high school was the worst decision of his life because he is in his fifties, still doing manual labor that he was doing in his twenties’s. He said that that is not the life neither me nor my brother deserved. All of these years, I have lived my life through my father and it is my goal in life to make him proud by graduating from college.

Eddie has similar goals. This is what draws us together.

Eddie is a full time student at Sacramento State and is an honor’s student majoring in accounting. He has goals and aspirations and he is working hard to fulfill these goals. He has had a 4.0 grade point average since he was in high school. Eddie and I have dreams and ambitions. We live similar lives and I think these things draw us closer together. It also helps that we are the life of the party when we walk in, but either way the bromance is strong in this story.

When I finally got home I tried to sneak in the house in order to do some additional scent reduction in my dad’s truck.

Unfortunately, once I opened the door, my Pomeranian, Lexy, started barking and ran to the door with her tail wagging. I shut her up and walked to my room. I stripped to my underwear to get the weed stench off of me and then I thought, “Damn it.” I went and grabbed air freshener and Febreze. I walked to the car in my underwear and sprayed the seats and air freshened the whole interior of the truck. I shut the door and hoped that did the trick. I went to my room jumped in the bed and passed out.

The next day, I woke up and Eddie and I went to the mall to do some very last minute Christmas shopping. While we were walking around the crowded mall, my phone

began buzzing in my pocket. I looked at it and saw it was my dad calling. I answered the phone hastily, “Hey Dad.” “Hey son. I was just calling to see how your night was.” I started getting nervous and said, “It was pretty fun, except for San Francisco traffic.” My dad replied, “Yeah that can be a pain.”

There was an awkward pause and then he said, “So, I was driving my car this morning and I noticed something very odd.

Do you know what it was?” I felt as if my body was melting into a pool of liquid. “I’m dead. My mom is going to kill me. I need to write my will. My life is over,” I thought to myself. I recovered and said naturally, “No, what?” My dad chuckled and said, “I can’t believe you actually filled up my gas tank last night.”

Rayelle Neuhaus

Oxygen

Keaton Eisenmenger This fire, created by you Burns me alive Fire runs through my veins And consumes my breath.

Don't leave; stay a while And kiss me once again Maybe you'll feel the spark I feel And I'll be your oxygen

Dew Drop

Emily Fryklind

Glistening in the sunlight Only seen by a select few.

Sitting on a yellow petal, A brand new tulip, just popped through.

A bead of water The blue, crystal, sphere And only a few can see the beauty Of this dew drop, because it’s beautiful to me.

A Villanelle for Mom

Philip Booze

You’ve been places I’ll never have to go.

Nine months of Labor to give birth to me.

The love of a mother a son will never know.

From streets of malice where smiles do not show, To city safe where childrens' grins run free. You’ve been places I’ll never have to go.

As you drop me at school I notice that tears still flow, But from loving hugs each day I still flee.

The love of a mother, a son will never know.

You may have spent nights wishing food was on the stove, But not a night in your life did your kids sleep hungry.

You’ve been places I’ll never have to go.

You discipline my mind so my character might grow, But a barrier between me and freedom was all I saw.

The love of a mother, a son will never know.

Mollie Shelvin

You’re miles away but in my heart your presence glows, As I move forward striving to be the great man you see.

I’ve been places I thought I’d never go.

The depth of my mother’s love, I still may never know.