Bridge Over Stream Watercolor - David Albright â€˜18
Mind’s Eye Staff Editors
Table of Contents Award Winners Atlas
Connor Faughnan ‘20
Petra the Piping Plover
Khorbin Kern ‘19
From the Bottom to the Top
Evan Rodriguez ‘20
Eating Plums on the Stoop
Andy Kendrick ‘18
The Time I Learned to Juggle
Richard Shrestha ‘18
Chris Wyatt ‘18
McMiracle: A Comedy
Richard Shrestha ‘18
The Relationship Between Shakespeare and Feminism
Mark Bissell ‘18
Consistent Internal Isolation Without Regard to Class in Edward Albee’s The Zoo Story
Chris Wyatt ‘18
Frankenstein Response Paper
David Albright ‘18
Pride Before the Fall
Michael Consorte ‘20
A Filmmaker’s Responsibility
Matt Callahan ‘19
Martin Luther King Essay
Brendan Canning ‘20
Roy Sebas ‘20
Mark Bissell ‘18 Chris Wyatt ‘18 Poetry Editor Richard Shrestha ‘18 Technical Crew Brendan Clerkin ‘20 Ethan Johnson ‘20 Roy Sebas ‘20 Staff Christian Gee ‘19 Joshua Norton ‘18
Ben Nuttall ‘20
Jacob Zabski ‘18
The Spirits of Yei
Ben Nuttall ‘20
The House of Silence
Joshua Norton ‘18
A Grey Little Thing
Matt Consorte ‘20
The Arkansas Killer
CJ Coppola ‘20
Matt Consorte ‘20
Jack Gill ‘20
Ben Nuttall ‘20
Matt Brooks ‘20
My First Book
Amit Chandra ‘20
Michael Consorte ‘20
Cover Art David Albright ‘18 Moderator Mrs. Lucy Abbott
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Table of Contents, cont.
Romance Stories Jumomji
Dylan Schwartz & Michael Iasalvatore ‘20 Page 32
As the Breeze Flies
Alex Barbour ‘20
Piping Plover - Drawing, Pencils
Create a World
Charles Okang ‘20
Matt Ruiz ‘20
My Romance Story
Liam McKiernan ‘20
The World in Which Only I Exist
Amit Chandra ‘20
Still Life - Drawing
Mark Altieri ‘20
Eddie Zhang ‘20
A Boy’s Best Friend
Anthony Smarrelli ‘20
Profile - Drawing Eddie Zhang ‘20
Poems Bee Kind
Ethan Wicko ‘20
Frankenstein - Drawing
The One Thing I Know
Brian Romaniello ‘20
Eddie Zhang ‘20
Shane Franklin ‘20
Alexander Cruz ‘20
Amistad on Mystic River - Photograph
Ryan Sullivan ‘20
Wood Plane - Photograph
Thomas Scott ‘18
Fail to Succeed
Kaileb Cadet ‘18
Harry from Harlem
Matt Smokes ‘21
The Golden Break
Oliver Shannon ‘20
Old Man - Drawing
Joseph Kelly ‘20
Eddie Zhang ‘20
Skull - Drawing
Eddie Zhang ‘20
Connor Mordecai ‘20
Religion Service Song/Rap
Liam McKiernan ‘20
Service Project Poem
Oliver Shannon “20
Eye - Drawing
Texas Immersion Trip 2018
Aidan Shea ‘19
Eddie Zhang ‘20
Forest Path - Photograph
European History Class Projects Tomb of Pope Julius II
Michael Maher ‘20
Ben Nuttall ‘20
Thomas Scott ‘18, Roy Sebas ‘20, Brendan Clerkin’20
*HP Reveal found with these pieces.
Libyan Sibyl Sistine Chapel
Recreation of the Pieta
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Aurasma is Now HR Reveal
Following the success with last year’s introduction of Aurasma to our magazine, we have decided to continue the use of the updated HP Reveal in this year’s magazine! HP Reveal is a new Extended Reality Platform from HP - HP Reveal adds value to printed content through visual interactivity: images turn into an augmented reality platform on your mobile device. Download the HP Reveal Studio app on your mobile device and follow Notre Dame High School. (instructions below) Throughout this year’s magazine, you will find several photos and drawings, called “Auras”, that we have linked to video interviews with our magazine staff. All you need is a smartphone or tablet and you can see and hear our contributors talk about their work. If you would like to access these videos for the complete Mind’s Eye experience, simply follow the steps below to create your own HP Reveal account!
The following poem has been named an Honorable Mention in this year’s Connecticut Writing Project. It was selected from more than 1,500 entries submitted by Connecticut Students.
How to View HP Reveal
Is the weight of the world,
1. D ownload the Aurasma app on your smartphone or tablet
They crumble under the pressure,
Atlas Connor Faughnan ‘20 I carry a burden that no other man has, The weight of the world, A burden that will stay until the end of time, Waiting for someone to relieve me, But no one ever comes, Men have tried to carry what they think,
2. O pen the app and create an account
Few have come close to the pressure that I carry,
3. L og in, and press the purple button on the bottom of the screen
My eternal punishment has become a prison,
4. C lick on the “discover auras” search box at the top of the screen and type NotreDameHighSchool (no spaces)
My prison has become my home, I want to move,
5. Click on the top choice and then click “Follow” 6. C lick “back” in the upper left hand corner
I want to let my body move freely,
7. C lick “cancel” in the upper right hand corner
I want to be free,
8. N ow click the purple “aura” button at the bottom center of your screen
I feel that if I am not relieved,
9. U se the purple viewfinder icon to return to the camera viewfinder. Hold those circles over one of the pictures and wait for the video to play.
Then the world will come down
2017-18 Literary Magazine
“You have always been a quick one,” Father chuckled and continued to explain, “That is is exactly what we need you to understand. Our kind is what the man-beasts call ‘endangered’ and that means we are at risk of dying as a whole.You know by now that there are few of us and few of some of the others, which are also these ‘endangered’ types.”
The following story has been named an Honorable Mention in this year’s Connecticut Writing Project. It was selected from more than 1,500 entries submitted by Connecticut Students. Petra the Piping Plover Khorbin Kern ‘19
Petra, with a curious and worried voice, asked, “Like Mrs. Rose?” “Yes, little one. The Roseate Tern is not a common sight nowadays is it? You know my friend that comes around sometimes, Scuttle, he brings news from the mainland. His kind are one of the most abundant out there, most definitely not ‘endangered.’ He is the reason we know much about the man-beasts. He has recently brought us some… troubling news that he had heard a man-beast speak of. They say they may stop helping, ‘conserve’ us. I do not know what this could mean, for we do not know of anyway they have helped us,..” Mother slowly comes to a quiet pause with a worried look similar to Father’s
Pipin Plover, Drawing Matt Ruiz ‘20
One day a family of Piping Plovers gathered at their nest on Plum island. Their family was a small one, consisting of Mother, Father, and their child Petra. The parents were going to explain a predicament that Petra was now old enough to hear and understand, as she was beginning to fly now. Petra was just coming back to the nest as she was told that her parents needed to talk to her...
By this time Petra looked truly scared. She asked softly, “Could it be that the manbeast have not done to anything to this land similar to the mainland and the scary things Scuttle talks about sometimes? Like the metal-beasts and the small moving suns?”
“What’s the big deal?” Petra asked curiously. “Well, we wanted to tell you about our kind and our place on Plum island.” said Father. Mother then joined saying, “You need to know the dangers that all our kind may be facing.”
Mother and Father look at each other in the moment of light that Petra brought, Father then looked towards the West and said, “That’s it! They must be talking about the danger-place, the large beast-nest at the edge!”
Petra became worried and asked, “Is this about how there are fewer of us and more of the others?”
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Mother added, “If they do that to the rest of the island then we would lose the nesting grounds along with the others…” “If they take away our nesting grounds what is their so-called ‘endangered’ title worth,” Father says angrily. Scuttle abruptly flies next to the nest rambling about the man-beasts wanting to destroy the island to make a… What?
Still Life - Drawing - Eddie Zhang ‘20
The following story has been named an Honorable Mention in this year’s Connecticut Writing Project. It was selected from more than 1,500 entries submitted by Connecticut Students.
Mother then yelled, “Calm down, calm down. What are they planning to do?” Scuttle, in short and quick breath said, “They want to take it all! They want to make it a golf course!”
From the Bottom to the Top Evan Rodriguez ‘20
Father asks, “What is this golf course you speak of?”
He sat on his chair and looked out at his town through his small apartment window of his dusty office. His sad and emotional face, as well as the thunderous weather, expressed his difficult situation in his life that needed to be fixed. He was out of a job and living on his last savings and needed money to be able to afford his apartment or he would be kicked out with his five year old son, John. As the rain tapped on the dusty glass window, Tim looked through the newspaper as he usually did to find a job with a suitable income for him and his son. He began to sob uncontrollably when John walked out of his small room and asked why his father was crying. “I’m ok John.” he said, “Are you ok? Do you want me to make you something?” John shook his head and went to his room to read his book that was given to him by his Kindergarten teacher. After John left, the clock hand read 1 PM and he asked a close friend to
“It is a game they play with small balls and metal sticks,” Scuttle explained. They continued to talk and ask questions, and once again they find that their situation has only worsened. To be continued… The next part can only be decided by you! Send letters to your congressman and get them fighting for Plum Island and all the amazing animals that live there. There are also many online petition that the dedicated can find and join the fight for the conservation of Plum island. n
2017-18 Literary Magazine
look after John while he left the apartment. As he walked along the soaking streets, he walked past the rich with their high quality umbrellas and raincoats, and he was saddened by his used raincoat with holes in it that exposed his dark green shirt to the rain. However, his saddened eyes turned to happiness when he saw a “now hiring” sign on a department store that on its roof held a brightly illuminated sign that shined through the large raindrops of the sky. He dashed inside to see a large array of wealthy people buying exclusive clothes and accessories. He walked into the office with the “now hiring” sign, as many of the wealthy had looked past him as if he had disrespected them in the worst possible way. When he walked into the office, he asked the lady where he could schedule an interview. “We have an opening today,” the lady said, “If you can step into the office, we can interview you now.” He stepped into the office and saw a name with a name tag that read “Dan” and he wore a dark black tuxedo and a luxurious gold watch. The man was even more intimidated by Dan, but was determined to get a job. Dan asked the man many questions ranging from his education to his attitude toward his job and the man answered them to the best of his ability. By the end of the interview, Dan’s attitude toward the man had changed drastically and Dan gave him the job. The man was so excited and ran back to his small apartment to hug John with tears in his eyes. The man could finally live on a stable job and live in a bigger apartment. His life was at an all time high and he went to sleep with joy in his eyes. n
Eating Plums on the Stoop Andy Kendrick ‘18 Being first is the best, right? The first secures the championship trophy, the acceptance letter, the royal crown. My ‘first’ does not have the drama of a Stanley Cup, that letter from Harvard, or ascent to the throne; my first is that I was first in line of five grandkids. To be sure, being the first to arrive has had its material rewards: years, so far, a lifetime of the best and most presents and attention. However, for me, being first has enabled me to be the lucky grandchild to have time with my Pop. Time with Pop has been and continues to be about those countless moments in time, tiny treasures, seemingly insignificant but irreplaceable. These moments have been as simple, but just as life altering, as eating plums on a stoop. In one of my first memories, at age three or four, Pop and I were sitting on my front stoop eating plums. Juice dribbled down my chin, as Pop chatted about everything from the clouds that dotted the sky to why humans can’t exist without trees, to how the plums in my hand somehow become prunes. Eating plums on the stoop with my Pop showed me early on how time is best spent paying attention to life’s details before they pass on by as swiftly as those clouds in the sky. My first family vacation was spent in Disney World, and we, like other vacationers, wanted to be first at the gate, first in line, first on the rides, and even first off, so that we could be first at the next ride. On that trip and on many others, Pop didn’t teach me to rush off to
2017-18 Literary Magazine
be first on the next attraction; instead he taught me, as if we were on my stoop again, to be the “first to notice things”. The first to notice the smells Disney cleverly churns out from its Main Street Bakery vents, enticing the guests to go there first. He showed me how to experience Epcot, not merely as an amusement park where being in the first row of Soarin’ makes your ride better than anyone else’s, but to be the first to notice the cultures represented in the World Showcase, to appreciate how Disney guests from throughout the world get along with each other despite their differences.
with Pop. He has taught me that life comes down to just eating plums on the stoop; it’s as simple or as complicated as that. n The Time I Learned How to Juggle Richard Shrestha Although it is hard to believe, five dollars changed my life. I was transformed when I first saw my AP U.S. History teacher juggle. I was amazed, silently wishing I could accomplish such a feat.Yet, whenever I thought of asking him to teach me, a part of me was apprehensive. I was convinced I would not be able to succeed, and I would be wasting my time. However, my curiosity eventually forced me to give it a try. While learning from my teacher, each step was a learning curve, whether it was clumsy hands or inconsistent tosses. I started with two balls, which was simple enough. Once I had the technique down, I started to implement the third ball to really start juggling. But for some reason, I struggled with this new task.
Throughout my life my Pop has been by my side. When I was little, before school everyday, we would play football where “somehow” I always won, write stories I still have, or play cowboys after he taught me how to quick draw. We did all the “small stuff”, the “stuff” that really matters. We have been blessed with a strong and creative relationship, one that has continued since the plums, the Disney rides, and the cowboys. He was first to help me learn and understand the power and reach of knowledge; if there was a chance to learn, he would bring me in. We have learned and grown together. Now having grown to near college age and hopefully matured, our relationship has grown and matured, all the while staying true to its roots.
Whenever I juggled, I kept on stopping after each attempt. I wasn’t really juggling. I was holding myself back. I didn’t even notice this issue myself. My friend, Chris, watched as I did my routine. He told me that each time I juggled, I paused after doing it for two seconds and kept restarting. When juggling, one is supposed to toss it in a continuous cyclical motion, like a washing machine. I was doing this subconsciously, and it seemed as if I was afraid to juggle. I realized the true obstacle was not the third ball, but it was myself.
All of us look for those big moments in life, but often they are just not there, and even when they are, it turns out they don’t really matter much. Life turns out to be an accumulation of smaller moments, moments I have shared and will continue to share
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Siblings Chris Wyatt ‘18
Most importantly, I required a change in my mentality. I needed to believe I could do it. Even though I knew I was physically capable of juggling, my mind was handicapping me. I needed to think less about juggling and just do it. I became obsessed with juggling. I practiced each night, after finishing my homework or during breaks. All I could focus on was the pattern. The ball dropping from my hands was frustrating at times. However, this only fueled my motivation as I needed to conquer this foe, who had spent so much of my time. I juggled late through the night and into the early morning. After each mistake, I picked the balls up as quickly as I dropped them. I even timed myself to get better so I could track my progress, as if the soreness of my arms and sweat on my clothes were not enough. By the end of the second week, I dropped the balls less and less, and gained more control.
Siblings! In lucky families, each sibling has his or her own bathroom. I am not of that elite group; I have the luxury of sharing a bathroom with four siblings. Not only that, I am the cleanest of these residents. This is excruciatingly sad as I’ve never considered myself a clean person, but when it comes to the cleanliness of the second floor bathroom, I am quite the neat freak. If there is anyone to blame for piles of dirty clothes on the bathroom floor and soap chunks in the drain, it is my siblings. Originally, I was the oldest of the three biological children of my parents. Siblings numbers three and four, however, have changed throughout the years. No, my parents did not send anyone off to military school or “give them back”; my parents were foster parents to 12 children.
My progress brought me praise from my teacher and classmates as I had truly developed into a real juggler. I tried to hide my smile, for on a surface level I learned a new party trick, but beyond that, I had used my new outlet as a way to break through my ultimate barrier: myself. Juggling gave me a form of expression, and let me go beyond my self-doubt. It is a testament to believe in myself. These three small colorful balls took me on an adventure unlike any other, whereby the end I gained a new hobby and a better understanding of my own abilities. To me, five dollars well spent. n
My brothers began as foster siblings and have since been adopted, meaning I can complain about them guilt free without worrying about not seeing them again. I loved each of our foster children, always seeing them as true brothers or sisters. I love each of my siblings, as messy as they are in the bathroom; however, I can’t risk that getting out. There is no greater pain than losing a sibling. The sad reality of my family was that almost every child that came into our home left, and, more often than not, we never saw them again. Though this was devastating, we always welcomed new children and went through the same process: adjustment, love, and heartbreak. This continued for three years until I met my brothers. 9
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Their misfortune was evident in their hair and their smell. Amari was two; his brother, Aidan, was a year old, not even able to respond to his own name. As always, we cleaned them up and brought them to the store for clothes and other necessities. It was amazing to be a part of their transformation and watch them become their own people. Amari soon began school and after some weeks, Aidan was able to walk and talk. Their lives were given structure and importance, and, as I always did with my foster siblings, I introduced them as my brothers. There was still the question, however, of when they would leave, but this time was different.
I learned how to adapt and to cherish every experience. I learned to have compassion and look at life through the eyes of others. Most importantly though, I had the opportunity to put the needs of others over my own, even if I do have to share a messy bathroom. n McMiracle: A Comedy Richard Shrestha â€˜18 Love has not quite been the same since I met the one. The yin to my yang; I remember it like it was yesterday. Mhmmm! A flood of relief tumbled down my spine. Damn! That hit the spot. I took another bite into the softshell of the steamed wheat bun, piercing through the bread, grabbing onto the tantalizing, mayo coated lettuce, and journeying into the prize: the crispy tender meat. I ripped the piece and felt fireworks as the delectable morsel met the tip of my tongue, the hint of spice sending me into an uncontrollable spiral. I was shocked, stunned; dare I say bamboozled? How could a concoction of this magnitude be only $1.06? My life changed at that moment. I lost my innocence when this piece of heaven dropped into my lap, and I could not look at food the same way ever again. It attached to my soul, to who I was as a person; it became my McChicken.Yet, that experience in a sense became a bittersweet memory. I am afraid I fell in love with food at that moment, but felt the salty disdain of being spoiled simultaneously. From then on, the McChicken became the staple of my life; my go to.
One evening my parents sat down with my two sisters, Taylor and Megan, and me and asked us if we wanted Amari and Aidan to live with us forever. They were already a part of the family, but now it would be official. I would forever have four siblings. Looking back on the sometimes painful but always rewarding experience of being a part of a foster family, I wonder how I was able to endure the devastation and constant change. I wonder why I always agreed when asked if we could accept children temporarily into our home. I wonder why I looked forward to their arrival when I knew how it would end. It was challenging having to part with so many children over the years, but each experience taught me how fortunate I am to lead the life I do. â€‹While providing a home, family, and love to those who needed it the most, I realized there are children who have to endure situations I could never imagine. It was stunning to see that these children were not just around the world but in my own town.
It happened more than 14 years ago, the day I became a different person. During the next several years, the McChicken brought me
2017-18 Literary Magazine
endless joy. Nearly every day I had a McChicken. Over time, the weight of the sandwiches added up, and it showed on the scale. They say you are what you eat. Well, soon enough round rolls could not only be used to describe the bun of a McChicken. I needed to put the McChicken aside for a little bit. I needed to focus on me and getting healthier. My spirit shed silent tears, as I kissed my pepper freckled friend goodbye for now. However, I knew if love is real, then we would meet again.
the wrapper. I took my initial bite, and emotion filled my body. An explosion of sensations danced on the tip of my tongue, bringing memories. Later, I craved my McChickens more, not only for the experience of flavor, but for what it brings me: warmth, a reminder that regardless of the ways in which life unfolds, I must change to accommodate them. Life is about balance, and the McChicken reminds me of who I am. For all that happens, all the challenges that await me, I know I always have my McChicken. n
Years flew by; I coerced myself to believe in the mystique of self help gurus on the internet. “Live strong,” they said. “I am a doctor on the web,” they said. “Watch this 5 minute video on how to get a six pack quick,” they said.Yet, it all seemed like lies. I sought love in fruits, vegetables, and lean proteins. I may have been healthier, but it never felt the same. I trudged on through my struggle without McChickens despite the gaping hole it left. Over time I was able to discern the lies and quick tips about health from the real meat, whether in regards to food or in daily life. I came into my own as a young adult. I became healthier, and the skills I struggled with when I began high school, like balance, public speaking, and communication, became some of my strongest traits. The air tasted different. But, despite my growth, something was amiss, something crucial. Deep down, I knew what was beckoning me. It was time.
Academic Essays The Relationship Between Shakespeare and Feminism Mark Bissell ‘18 Being labeled a feminist in the Elizabethan period would have brought Profile - Drawing - Eddie Zhang ‘20 about a different meaning than that of the present day. For centuries, historians have debated the underlying theme of feminism within the plays of well-known Elizabethan writer William Shakespeare and the importance his work played in setting the stage for the modern-day feminist movement. Shakespeare’s plays were not as radically progressive as one might view the present day’s feminist movement; however, the subtle ridicules at
I had not eaten a McChicken in a while, but luckily, a McDonald’s is located a short sprint from my high school. I felt incomparable ease as my eyes gazed at the familiar yellow face of
2017-18 Literary Magazine
the harmful effects of patriarchy have left a lasting impression on audiences. One of Shakespeare’s most well known plays, Othello, uses strong female characters to illustrate themes of lust, deceit, and hardship. Despite being a male-dominated play, the female characters of Shakespeare’s Othello challenge society’s expectations of them and are crucial in the downfall of the men within the play.
the intent of personal gain, puts Desdemona at the center of a trial of loyalty that makes for a troubling predicament. Othello struggles with the accusations of Desdemona’s disloyalty as he is lead to believe that Desdemona is a deceptive woman by Iago. As a result of society’s untrustworthy perception of women, Desdemona is left helpless as it is evident that no amount of pleading, nor penance, can sway Othello’s easily influenced mind towards justice. In contrast to Desdemona’s helplessness, Shakespeare utilizes Iago’s wife Emilia to expose her own husband’s deceptive plan and ultimately facilitate his downfall. Shakespeare’s use of Emilia in the downfall of Iago paints a metaphoric blow to the cruel patriarchal society responsible for the death of Desdemona. The irony of Iago’s downfall is described as a questioning of the, “ … validity of unchecked male authority” (Johnson 4). Emelia’s crusade for truth in a society of lies and betrayal helps bring justice to the very deaths that can be traced back to her own husband.
The Venetian society’s low regard for women is notable within the early scenes of Othello. As accusations of Desdemona’s affair with military general Othello are brought to light, regard for Desdemona’s desires and role in the relationship are nowhere to be seen. Rather than accepting his daughter’s relationship with Othello, Desdemona’s father Brabantio goes as far as to accuse of Othello of using witchcraft to win Desdemona’s love saying, “She is abused, stol’n from me, and corrupted …” (1.3). Brabantio’s argument against Desdemona and Othello’s relationship exhibits a direct correlation with society’s low opinion of women as it implies that a woman is incapable of making her own choices. Despite such strong opposition from her father, Desdemona pledges her “obedience” to Othello, a controversial decision given Othello’s ethnic background. Desdemona’s defiance is crucial moment in the development in her being viewed as one of Shakespeare’s strong female characters.
The tragedy of Othello presents strong female characters that demonstrate two very different possibilities of living in a patriarchal society with a low respect of women: victimhood and advocacy. Shakespeare’s use of characterization emphasizes the helplessness of Desdemona to question society’s treatment of women while using the boldness of Emilia to be a memorable feminist symbol. The significance of women in Shakespeare’s plays is much disputed; however, the essential role they play in bringing about the symbolic downfall of an oppressive patriarchy sets the
As plots unwravel and Shakespeare’s strong female characters are put on trial, society’s regard for women sets a barrier for a woman’s ability to defend herself. A deceptive scheme constructed by Iago, with
2017-18 Literary Magazine
groundwork for a conversation of women’s role in society that would last for centuries. The female characters of Othello undergo many hardships, and though some do not make it out unscathed, they challenge the belief that “this is a man’s world.” n
Seemingly opposite types of people, Peter and Jerry lead very different lives and exhibit very different personas. Peter lives the life of an upper-middle-class man who is nothing but average, “...neither fat nor gaunt, neither handsome nor homely. He wears tweeds, smokes a pipe, carries horn-rimmed glasses” (Albee 11). The description of Peter, committing to no definite interpretation of his looks, displays that he has no distinguishable physical characteristics. Additionally, Peter wearing tweeds represents that he has a respectable profession and is part of upper society. Peter also seems to live a nice life with a wife, children, and pets, which outwardly bring him connection and happiness. Jerry, on the contrary, presents himself carelessly and lives a life that seems to be opposite to that of Peter. Jerry lives on the top floor of a rooming house and lacks stability and connection in his life, “No. I wonder if it’s sad that I never see the little ladies more than once. I’ve never been able to have sex with, or, how is it put?...make love to somebody more than once” (Albee 25). Jerry makes it evident to the audience that he has never had a genuine connection with someone. He grew up lacking the family stability and relationships that other people strive to obtain for their adult selves:
Consistent Internal Isolation Without Regard to Class in Edward Albee’s, The Zoo Story Chris Wyatt ‘18 Everyone recognizes outcasts as people who are naturally isolated, but rarely do people stop and think about those who appear to fit into society perfectly. Often times people blend into the world excellently on the outside, but they are outrageously secluded on the inside. Edward Albee’s, The Zoo Story, tells the story of an encounter between two different types of men in Central Park. Ultimately, the two men end up fighting over a bench and one man tricks the other into killing him. The Zoo Story shows that there are many forms of barriers that separate people, such as class and lifestyle, but many different types of people share certain realities of life, in the case of The Zoo Story, internal isolation. This way of life is comparable to a zoo, in which bars separate the different types of animals, but all of them share certain animalistic tendencies. Albee was writing to show that the world is a zoo that separates humans from themselves and their nature. In Edward Albee’s, The Zoo Story, the presentation of Peter and Jerry, seemingly very different characters, shows that they are alike regarding the inner lives they lead.
But good old Mom and good old Pop are dead.... Good old Mom walked out on good old Pop when I was ten and a half years old....Good old Pop celebrated the New Year for an even two weeks and then slapped into the front of a somewhat moving city omnibus, which sort of cleaned things out family-wise.Well no; then there was Mom’s sister....She dropped dead on the stairs to her apartment, my apartment then, too... (Albee 24). 13
2017-18 Literary Magazine
The societal separation between Peter and Jerry and the lack of stability that Jerry has and continues to face in his life are the main factors in making the reader assume Jerry and Peter are different. It is evident that Jerry lives a life of isolation, both emotionally and physically. Once the reader notices Peter’s behavior and personality, however, it becomes evident that he too lives a life of internal isolation. Peter and Jerry both face separation from society in separate ways, which is what ultimately connects the two and makes them so similar. Jerry’s living situation makes it evident that he lives a life of isolation. When describing his house, it becomes visible that the layout of the house Jerry lives in, and the way he interacts with the people in it is similar to a zoo:
himself; rather it was brought on by the truth Jerry knows regarding human relationships. Jerry displays what he knows about the interactions among people in his story about himself and the dog, “Anyway, this went on for over a week, whenever I came in; but never when I went out. That’s funny. Or, it was funny. I could pack up and live in the street for all the dog cared” (Albee 30). Jerry recognizes that humans are separated from each other, and anyone that tries to enter an area of their world that provides someone with security is threatening. Jerry knows the dog does not want him to enter the area he lives in and he knows that Peter would not willingly give up the bench that provides him with security. Although Jerry is obviously isolated in the play, Peter is also just as isolated. Peter lives a life of isolation in a different sense and lives his life of seclusion without realizing it. Peter presents a seemingly perfect and average life as an upper middle-class man to the rest of society and himself. From the original description given of Peter before the play starts, it is obvious that Peter is not at all distinguished from others in his class at the time. Peter has a wife, two daughters, a cat, and two parakeets. These aspects of his life create a mask. Peter’s mask forces him into isolation, which is evident when he becomes uncomfortable with Jerry asking him specific questions. Peter’s response to Jerry, talking about him having no more children, makes this clear, “That’s none of your business! (A silence) Do you understand?... Well, you’re right. We’ll have mo more children” (Albee 16). Peter fears that the facade that he has will be penetrated if he gives away too much information about any aspect of his life. All of
...and one of my walls is made of beaverboard; this beaverboard separates my room from another laughably small room.... Now the two front rooms on my floor are a little larger, I guess....There’s a Puerto Rican family in one of them, a husband, a wife, and some kids; I don’t know how many.... And in the other front room, there’s somebody living there, but I don’t know who it is. I’ve never seen who it is. Never. Never ever. (Albee 22) Like animals in a zoo, the people in the home are all living in small rooms attached to each other by one wall; however, they rarely, if ever, see each other and they know very little about each other. This does not, however, mean that they are not aware of each other’s presence. They know about all the other residents and know that they live there, they just do not have any genuine interactions with them. Jerry did not bring his life of isolation on
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Frankenstein Response Paper David Albright ‘18
the things that make Peter’s life seem perfect do not provide him with the luxury and happiness it may seem to. Peter’s life and material goods are what isolate him from the rest of the world. Peter is in fact out of touch with his life, himself, and the things and people in it. This is shown when he responds to Jerry tickling him, “...the parakeets will be getting dinner ready soon. Hee, hee. And the cats are setting the table” (Albee 38). At this moment in the play, Peter realizes that he faces emptiness and isolation in his life. The parts of Peter’s domestic life can be switched out because they are all small parts of his life that disguise the void and loneliness he faces. Peter is actually very alone in the world and is not as secure in his life as it may seem.
Frankenstein by Mary Shelley presented a wide array of moral and ethical issues. In the story, a scientist, Victor Frankenstein, creates a specimen with various human Frankenstein - Drawing - Eddie Zhang ‘20 body parts. Once the creature is brought to life, chaos ensues and ruins the lives of Victor and everyone around him. One of the most prominent moral dilemmas that is presented in Frankenstein is whether or not humans have the right to bring a creature to life. A modern day example of an ethical issue presented in Frankenstein is Sophia the robot. Sophia was created by Hanson Robotics, a Chinese based company, and activated in April 2015. This robot is one of the largest advances made in artificial intelligence to date. Artificial intelligence, usually referred to as AI, is “the capability of a machine to imitate intelligent human behavior” (Merriam-Webster). Sophia imitates human intelligence with cameras in place of eyes, facial recognition programs, data processing, and voice recognition technology. This means that she can make conversation with humans and answer questions using information from the internet.
Edward Albee’s, The Zoo Story is a story that attests to human isolation as a possibility in every type of life. By ignoring the barriers that separate people, and make the world comparable to a zoo, Albee shows that internal isolation can be present in even the most outwardly perfect people. The way that Albee presents his main characters, Peter and Jerry, shows that, although they are on opposite ends of the societal spectrum externally, they are very similar internally because they both face isolated lives. Humans can be separated in all sorts of ways, like animals in a zoo, but they will almost always share certain types of tendencies that are merely a part of being human. Albee’s work shows that isolation, loneliness, and nothingness are not just present in those that naturally display it; it is also visible in those that are seemingly very far from it. n
Recently, Sophia’s existence has presented several moral dilemmas. On October 26th, 2017, Sophia was granted 15
2017-18 Literary Magazine
citizenship in Saudi Arabia. She became the first robot to ever receive citizenship at the Future Investment Initiative, an international business conference held in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. This was controversial because Sophia was not accompanied by a man, nor did she wear a hijab, both of which are required of all women there. Saudi Arabia, known for having strict laws that reduce women’s rights, gave more rights to a robot than human women. Similarly to the predicament presented by the creature in Frankenstein, what rights are a specimen guaranteed if they are not human?
positive than that of the creature. Unlike the specimen’s distraught, angry perception of the world, Sophia is excited to have a child of her own and desires an emotional connection beyond everyday conversation. Despite their differences, both Sophia and the creature are outsiders in society, and they desire someone with whom to share their lives. Frankenstein is an example of a gothic novel. Typically, gothic novels are defined by a supernatural being, a dark or gloomy setting, intense emotions, and other mysterious characteristics. Frankenstein includes all of these, but what truly defines it as a classic gothic novel is the depiction of human nature. In “Frankenstein and the Cultural Uses of Gothic”, Lee E. Heller writes, “...it explored the horrific elements of human personality, and the forces--including education and reading--that go into their creation” (Heller). Shelley depicts human nature in both the creature and Victor Frankenstein. The creature displays human nature because it observes the townspeople and mimics their behavior and language. This is similar to the way that infants learn from their parents when they are growing up. The other side of human nature is displayed in Victor. He allows Justine to take the blame for killing William when he knows that his creation was truly to blame. However, he was too scared to take the blame and accept responsibility. This demonstrates how selfish humans tend to be.
Sophia shares several similarities with the creature in Frankenstein. Both Sophia and the creature desire a companion. In Frankenstein, the creature demands that Victor creates him a female partner for him to live with. “My companion will be of the same nature as myself...the picture I present to you is peaceful and human, and you must feel that you could deny it only in the wantonness of power and cruelty” (Shelly 130). The creature promises to leave Victor and his family alone if he creates this female companion. He plans to move to South America with her and live off the land, away from human society. Similarly, Sophia the robot wants a companion for herself. During an interview with an Indian newspaper, Sophia revealed that she would like to have a baby. While speaking to a reporter from The Khaleej Times, she said, “The notion of family is a really important thing, it seems. I think it’s wonderful that people can find the same emotions and relationships, they call family, outside of their blood groups too” (Nasir). Sophia’s outlook is much more
Lastly, Frankenstein deals with the topic of social justice. While living amongst the townspeople and modeling their behavior, the creature reads several books. Most notably, he reads Plutarch’s Lives, a historical account 16
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Pride Before the Fall Michael Consorte ‘20
of ancient civilizations and their rulers. When describing the impact this book had on him, the creature said, “Plutarch taught me high thoughts; he elevated me above the wretched sphere of my own reflections, to admire and love the heroes of past ages. Many things I read surpassed my understanding and experience” (Shelley 153). Lives gave the creature a sense of confidence and awareness that he did not receive from the other books. With no contact with other people, the creature had to rely on observation alone to understand human nature. With this book, he was able to understand it further, including how humans are led by one another, how they practice religion, and various cultural practices that he would not have known otherwise. The problem in this situation is that the cultural practices that he learned about in Lives were very different from those of the small town in which he was residing. The violent, war-like nature of Lives could have impacted the creature later on when he killed William.
Having pride in oneself can be very beneficial or very hazardous. Self-confidence is important, but too much confidence can lead to feelings of invincibility. “Pride before the Fall” is the main theme in Christopher Marlowe’s Dr. Faustus. In the play, Faustus is a very learned man who seeks even more knowledge. Feeling invincible, Faustus practices dark magic and sells his soul to the devil. This decision not only fails to give him the knowledge he seeks but also leads to his demise. The theme “Pride before the Fall” is created in Dr. Faustus through literary elements. The theme “Pride before the Fall” was created in Dr. Faustus through the plot and the main character, Faustus. Faustus’ original purpose in making his deal with Lucifer is to gain more knowledge. Instead, Faustus uses his powers to perform tricks and never actually attains the knowledge he craves, giving Faustus the opposite of what he originally desires. This is an example of peripeteia. This leads into the anagnorisis, when Faustus realizes that he is going to be doomed in hell. At the end of the play, Faustus says, “The serpent that tempted Eve may be sav’d, but not Faustus” (Marlowe 53). At this point Faustus knows it is too late for him. This unravelling, or denouement, is very clearly a result of his pride. The plot and character are not the only literary elements that contribute to the theme.
Since its publication in 1818, Frankenstein has promoted a discussion of moral, ethical, and social justice issues. Most recently, the modern day creation and treatment of robots presents a similar situation to the relationship between Victor and the creature. Frankenstein has been regarded as a classic gothic novel for its depiction of setting, character, and the portrayal of human nature. Lastly, the impact that books, such as Plutarch’s Lives, had on the creature is an example of the theme of social justice in Frankenstein. n
The theme is also created through allusion. Christopher Marlowe alludes to several stories in which pride plays a part
2017-18 Literary Magazine
in a character’s downfall, including the Bible and Greek Mythology. One such story is the story of Icarus. In the story of Icarus, Icarus’ father gives him a pair of wings to allow them to fly away from their prison. His father tells him not to fly too high, but Icarus becomes confident and prideful and decides to fly close to the sun, making the wax melt and plunging Icarus into the sea where he drowns. The Chorus introduces the play by saying, “His waxen wings did mount above his reach” (Marlowe 1). The waxen wings represent excessive pride. The reader can infer from this quote that Faustus feels invincible, and that Faustus’ downfall is going to be a result of this feeling. In this way, “Pride before the Fall” is revealed through allusion.
evidence well, but also adds some changes and his own spin on the film which makes it very interesting. The filmmaker’s responsibility when dealing with historic material is to portray historical evidence through film, changing the evidence to fit the needs of the film, and cutting events out to fit the parameters of the film.
The theme “Pride before the Fall” is created in Dr. Faustus through literary elements. The plot uses peripeteia, anagnorisis, and denouement to create Faustus’ tragic downfall. Marlowe’s allusion to the story of Icarus shows that pride is the reason for his fall before the play even begins. Faustus fails to realize that he is not invincible and suffers through eternal punishment as a result. Dr. Faustus serves as an outstanding cautionary tale for pridefulness. n
Amistad on Mystic River Photograph - Mrs. Abbott
The filmmaker’s job when creating a film is to accurately and vividly describe the event on which the film is based. When creating a film, while using historical facts, the filmmaker’s job is to describe the actions that actually took place, using the facts to help backup the plot. In the case of Steven Spielberg’s Amistad, Spielberg shows events recorded by history. The focus of the movie is the trial of the kidnapped Africans from the ship. The lawyer Roger Baldwin represented the Africans. Baldwin called a British sea captain to testify:
A Filmmaker’s Responsibility Matt Callahan ‘19 When a filmmaker is tasked with creating a film on a historic subject there is a lot of work that goes into making sure all the evidence is clear, understood, and true. This is the case with Steven Spielberg’s 1997 film Amistad. Spielberg portrays the historical
“Captain Fitzgerald, please explain to us your primary duties in Her Majesty’s Navy.” “To patrol the Ivory Coast for slave ships.” “Because?” “Because slavery is banned in British law, sir.” 18
2017-18 Literary Magazine
“Yet the abduction of freemen from the British Protectorate of Sierra Leone and their illegal transportation to the New World, as described by Cinque, is not unheard of, is it?” “Not even unusual, regrettably” (Amistad).
allowed into the supreme court at that time due to segregation. When a director is faced with creating a film using historical evidence, one of the hardest things to do is to decide how many facts to keep in the film and what to add for the sake of drama.
The way Spielberg directs the film and uses the historical evidence gathered, makes the film feel like it is actually taking place in that time period. By the way the characters talk, act, and present themselves, connections are made to that time period. Not in all cases does a director or a filmmaker keep true to the historical evidence. Sometimes they veer off the path of truth into a path of story driven actions or characters.
One of the hardest parts of the filmcreation process is deciding how much of the story to leave in the final cut of the film. When filmmakers create a film using historical evidence they tend to venture out of the normal run time of a film. With the average run time of a movie being 100 minutes, Amistad, Lincoln, Glory, and 12 Years a Slave all run around 130 minutes. For the film Amistad, a few crucial events were left out of the final cut of the film, including the immediate departure of the captive Africans after the case and the influence and passion of Tappen. Both of these events could have fit into the film without using much run time. Through historical evidence it is known that Tappen was a huge influence on the Amistad case and would attend many meetings and court cases about it. The immediate departure of the African captives could have also been shown and would have shown more of Martin Van Buren’s influence on the case. Filmmakers and directors alike know to balance their input on historical evidence with actual evidence.
When a filmmaker is using historical evidence to create their film, they cannot always be authentic about everything. In these cases, filmmakers create their own characters or events to fill-in the story. A vivid example of this in the film Amistad is the character Theodore Joadson. Joadson was not a real person. Joadson’s character was created to “illustrate African Americans’ contributions to the movement for racial justice in antebellum society” (Newman). Other events that were changed to fill the needs of the script were when Cinque is allowed into John Quincy Adam’s house. Cinque sees an African violet in Adam’s greenhouse. This is meant to prove that Cinque is from Africa, not born a slave somewhere else, . That sweet moment in the film did not occur in real life. Also, in the film Cinque and Joadson were present for the proceedings in the Supreme Court. Sadly, both men would not have been
The filmmaker’s responsibility when dealing with historic material is to portray historical evidence through film, changing the evidence to fit the needs of the film, and cutting events out to fit the parameters of the film. Amistad captures the true use of historical evidence in a movie. From
2017-18 Literary Magazine
the creation of a fictional character who portrays a group of abolitionists to the false connection between an African man and an African flower, many events in this film, accurate or not, show the connection between characters and the historical evidence. n
public speaking ability honed by his participation in the high school debate team.Years later in 1955 he became known nationally when he led the Montgomery Bus Boycott after Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on a city bus. In 1957, he helped create the Southern Christian Leadership Conference with the goal of conducting nonviolent protests against the Jim Crow laws, which enforced racial segregation. Despite criticism from many groups, King continued to persevere, helping to lead many protests. The “dream” of Martin Luther King Jr. was displayed in his speech “I Have A Dream”. In August of 1963, leaders from six civil rights organizations helped organize the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom. One of the organization’s’ main goals was to call for an end to racism in the United States. King definitely helped achieve this goal. In his speech, King talked about many aspects of his dream for America. First, he dreamt that the statement, “all men will be created equal” in the Constitution would be lived out by all citizens of the United States. He also dreamt of brotherhood between whites and blacks, even in states where justice was hard to find. He dreamt of a world for his children where they are judged by “the content of their character” rather than their skin color. Finally, displaying his religious roots, King dreamt of a day when “the glory of the Lord shall be revealed” and when freedom will ring throughout the nation. On July 2, 1964, less than a year after King’s speech, the Civil Rights Act was passed by Congress. This bill outlawed all discrimination based on race and color, and abolished the
Martin Luther King Jr. Essay Brendan Canning ‘20 Civil rights have been an issue in the United States since its founding in 1776. First, it was slavery. The slavery of African-Americans was legal in America until 1865 when the 13th Amendment of the Constitution was passed by Congress. However, the racial issues of America were not over. After the 13th Amendment, Jim Crow laws were passed in many former Confederate states. These laws enforced the segregation of black people from white people for many different activities, including in educational settings. Then, Martin Luther King Jr. was born. With the support of many other organizations, King led the fight for civil rights for African-Americans in the United States. Despite being attacked multiple times and even arrested, King persisted in the name of justice. After many years of protesting, the Civil Rights Act was passed in 1964, abolishing the Jim Crow laws. Through his perseverance and dream for equality, Martin Luther King Jr. greatly impacted the nation and created a brighter future for African-Americans. Martin Luther King Jr. was born on January 15, 1929 in Atlanta, Georgia. From a young age, King was known for his amazing
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Jim Crow laws. Though Martin Luther King Jr. greatly improved the lives of African-Americans, their fight for justice is far from over.
should be. I don’t have personal experience with this discrimination, but I read about it all the time. The stories I read are disgraceful. Like any other race, African-Americans have greatly contributed to society in countless ways. Most importantly, they are good people. There is no reason for them to be regarded the way they are by the bigots of our world. My dream is for African-Americans and anyone who is mistreated to be shown respect. Regardless of their circumstances, they were brought into this world by God, and deserve to be treated justly.
Martin Luther King Jr’s dream today would be much different than his dream in the 1960s. Despite the effect King had on the lives of African-Americans, they are still mistreated today. One of the biggest issues for black people is police brutality. Unnecessary violence from police officers has been an issue for many years, including during the Selma marches led by Martin Luther King Jr. in 1965. However, this has become a much greater issue with the turn of the 21th century. Hundreds of black people are unfairly attacked by police, with over 223 black people losing their lives in 2016. Over two out of three of these victims are unarmed, with some even being completely innocent. The worst reality is that in almost 99% of police brutality cases, the officers were not convicted of a crime. Martin Luther King Jr. would find this completely unacceptable. Today, King would dream of a day when African-Americans were not only treated fairly, but also treated equally to the rest of the American people.
Martin Luther King Jr. created a better future for African-Americans through his perseverance and his dream for America. Born in Atlanta, King became involved in the civil rights movement in the 1960s. Determined to end racial segregation, King founded the Southern Christian Leadership Conference and led many boycotts and protests. King is most famous for his “I Have A Dream” speech during the March on Washington, where he talked about his aspirations for AfricanAmerican and all of America. This monumental speech led to the passing of the Civil Acts Right in 1964. Due to a rising number victims of police brutality, Martin Luther King Jr’s dream today would be for African-Americans to be treated equal to other races. I also dream of fair treatment for African-Americans and the mistreated people of our world, as all people deserve freedom and justice. n
Though we have much different lives, my dream is similar to the dream of Martin Luther King Jr. I am lucky enough to not be persecuted for my race, color, or religion. Though I am thankful, sometimes I take my civil liberties for granted. Every single day of their lives, many African-Americans have to face discrimination, bigotry, and unfair treatment from others. Though their circumstances have improved since the civil rights movement, black people are still not treated the way they
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Now our story begins by focusing on a simple minded, everyday teenager named Jimmy. Jimmy had grown up long after this law was put in place, not knowing anything about the injustice it was doing. Jimmy grew up on the poor side of town. He never had much and he hated seeing his family struggle for money every month. He lived with his mother and older brother and sister. Jimmy’s father grew up as an anarchist during the flourish of the punk rock era. A bit before Jimmy was born he was taken away by the government after they overheard him through the secret microphone telling Jimmy’s older brother about his childhood, which was in his words, “a time when music, culture, and revolution were at its finest,” So Jimmy had never met his father, but he knew exactly who he was, everyone did. Jimmy and his family were ridiculed for this. Jimmy was bullied at school for having the “outlaw dad.” Jimmy never did fit in. He had a group of friends but they never really saw eye to eye on much. He had his father’s fiery, revolutionary spirit. This would lead to him spending most of his school time in the principal’s office. He would get sick and tired of the other kids picking on him for something his dad did. He began to hate his father that he had never met. One day he couldn’t take it anymore, and the first person who picked on him that morning he snapped on and he beat them up. He didn’t stop swinging until they were a bloody mess. The school’s security guard had to force Jimmy off the boy and dragged him to the main office. When the principal had heard of there being a fight he knew exactly what had happened before anyone even told him.
Wood plane - Photograph - Thomas Scott ‘18
Viva la Revolućion Roy Sebas ‘20 This story takes place in the not so distant future. The government had finally found a way to silence all the ‘rebels’ so that they could protect themselves. They had created a list of books that were illegal and were not aloud to be published. Any that had already been published were all destroyed, except one copy of each title which was locked up in a secret library so as to protect history. The only people aloud in the library were important politicians. They monitored every website, e-mail, letter, and even had microphones set up to monitor people speaking. And maybe the worst part of all this was that they had banned all music. They burned and destroyed every piece of music ever made, seeing it as the biggest threat to security. They took every instrument and threw them in a wasteland that no one would ever find. They genetically modified birds to stop them from their beautiful singing, and the only thing that played on the radios was a white, fuzzy noise interrupted occasionally by a news break.
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Jimmy was expelled from school and soon saw his own family, the only ones who ever believed in him, start to become distant. His mother was struggling to pay the bills and saw Jimmy as a distraction and couldn’t afford anymore of his antics. Though she still loved him she had no choice but to kick him out of the house. It was hard for her to do but it was her only option.
as fast as they could and some men were lost but despite the casualties they had done it. They had stolen the guitar and on the morning of Jimmy’s birthday they gifted it to him. Jimmy started that morning like he did any other morning. He reluctantly got out of bed, took a drag of his cigarette from the night before and walked out of his room into the clubhouse. Everyone was there waiting for him, and they celebrated his 18th birthday. All the bikers and bandits were there and all hollered and drank in celebration. Then the leader of the pack, a big burly man with a long beard and long thinning hair named Butch, quieted them all down and showed Jimmy his gift. They had to be secretive and use code so that the secret mics wouldn’t know what they were talking about. They showed Jimmy the guitar and Jimmy, who had never even heard of music, looked confused at the slab of wood with strings. They handed it to him and told him that he has to hit the strings, so he did and Jimmy heard a noise that would stick with him his entire life. Then they told him to sing along as he strummed. Jimmy had a confused look in his eyes when they said this. So, they all started singing their favorite tunes from back before all music was destroyed and Jimmy started to understand. He started singing and strumming simultaneously and though his voice was a bit raspy it went perfectly with the out of tune strums of the old slab of wood. They had all forgotten about the microphones at this point and were all singing along with Jimmy. Soon, a bunch of big vans pulled up outside and many men with guns came out and knocked down the door.
Jimmy was on the streets and his mind was beginning to deteriorate. He thought that no one would ever love him. He didn’t trust anyone and his mind slowly began to go. He was only a 17 year old, and he was alone on the cold streets of his urban town. His friends started to drift away as they made new friends at their school. Just when he was beginning to think that no one would ever have his back he met a band of troublemakers nearly twice his age. They saw him struggle and began to sympathize with him because they had been the same way. They took Jimmy under their wing and soon he became an obnoxious, foul mouth bandit. Close to his 18th birthday they wanted to surprise him. These were men who had pulled off many crimes and wanted to do something big for Jimmy’s becoming an adult. They had always dreamed of finding the fabled wasteland of instruments. These men had grown up with Jimmy’s dad and knew all about music. They had spent years trying to locate this place and had finally found it. So they broke in and stole a guitar for Jimmy. They knew it was very dangerous and could cost them their lives, but it was their dream to find this place. So they went in and snatched a guitar. They ran away
2017-18 Literary Magazine
The whole place turned into a frenzy of outlaw men and women running trying to find cover from the government bullets that were flying. Butch turned to Jimmy, knowing that his time had come and said, “You gotta get outta here, kid. Take the guitar with you and go out the back.” So Jimmy did and Butch stayed and took what he knew was coming to him for years. Jimmy broke out and hopped up onto the roof and ran, jumping from roof to roof trying to escape the onslaught of government vehicles chasing him. He got away with the guitar still safe and it had ended a big chapter of his life, while also starting a new more significant part.
outrageous laws were created. He wrote songs about revolution and change that he so desired. He would always get chased out of where he was playing. He was an outlaw but his music was making a statement. Everyone knew who he was and no matter how many laws he was breaking people started to rally and come to his side. People began to see what he was doing and did it themselves. They took garbage from trash cans or from in the street and if it made noise somehow they would use. Whether they had to blow, slam, strum, or pluck they would use anything to make music and soon many were following in Jimmy’s footsteps. They all sang of revolution. They all wished for a change but no one more than Jimmy.
Jimmy, in secret, had learned all about the instrument. He used it to make music and had no idea why it was such a bad thing or why the government had banned it. He went back home to his mother after years and showed her. She was scared about her son being in danger for just owning a guitar, but when she saw him holding it and heard him talking about a revolution and bringing music back she couldn’t help but to think of his father. She warned him and told him all about what had happened to his dad. Jimmy, who had always hated the man, began to understand his father and feel bad about all the things he had said and thought about the man. He told his mother that he would do what his dad always dreamt about and bring back music. His mother cried for fear that she would lose her beloved son, but he started his mission anyway.
Jimmy had started the revolution he had dreamed of, but it didn’t come without a price. He saw and heard on the news people were being killed and arrested for just playing music and singing for change. Though many died for the cause they were happy to die, for they knew that little by little they were making a difference. One sad afternoon Jimmy as well as others were playing in a town square. There were crowds of thousands of people. Because of the enormous crowd of people Jimmy didn’t see the big government vans pull up. These the same vans at the biker bar the day of his 18th birthday. They pulled into the town center and seized Jimmy and his supporters. Jimmy died that day in a fight with the government agents. People didn’t see this as the end of the revolution however, they sought out to finish the job that Jimmy had started and they continued to play no matter what the consequence was.
He started playing and singing in public. He played fast and sang loud, emulating the music that his parents had loved before the
2017-18 Literary Magazine
A change of the laws did eventually happen. Though Jimmy wasn’t alive to see it, his followers had finished his mission. Everything had come back to the way it used to be. His mother, though still mourning Jimmy’s death, was happy that her son had started a revolution and accomplished his mission. Jimmy’s father was released from prison due to the change of laws and went out into the world wondering who was responsible for his dream of change coming true. Learning more and more about his son’s life and revolution, he was such a proud father of the son he had never met.
just let me know if you need anything.” “I will,” Sarah said, more confidently now, the terror of the night was scared away by the warm glow of the day. The day proceeded as most others did, she got up, got dressed, and went to her school. She was currently a Sophomore at the only high school within reasonable distance of her home, Deep-Gorge Catholic High. Her house, which they had just moved into a few months ago, was far from the main town, technically in the desert. Since the town was in the middle-of-nowhere Arizona, the local culture taught at school was that of the Navajo Native Americans. This happened to be Sarah’s favorite class because of her teacher, Mr. Ellsworth. He always made, what would otherwise be boring, topics interesting. Following suit the rest of the day seemed to be relatively normal. The only abnormality being that of the incessant headache that had only seemed to have worsened as the day progressed. When she got home Sarah went straight to her room. Her mom didn’t ask any questions, as this was where she did all of her homework, and she knew that the midterms were rapidly approaching. Sarah was beginning to feel sick, but thought nothing of it, assuming it to be just stress. She started on her math, and quickly nodded off.
This story goes to show that no matter how much they try and silence us, we as people will always fight and raise our voices and hearts until we have all our rights. n
Scary Stories The Spirits of Yei Ben Nuttall ‘20 Her mom rushed up the stairs, threw open the door, and ran to the side of Sarah’s bed. Her platinum blond Old Man - Drawing - Eddie Zhang ‘20 hair was strewn about as if she had just been through a violent struggle.
“Dinner’s ready,” Sarah’s mom shouted up the stairs, startling her awake. Sarah quickly made her way downstairs, sitting at her usual spot at the table. They said their usual prayer and ate their dinner. The usual ‘How was your day’s?’ and ‘How are you’s?’, with their usual ‘goods’ and ‘fines’ were exchanged. Once they finished Sarah quickly made her way back up
“Sarah, are you alright?” her mom asked worriedly. “Yes, I’m fine now. I was just having a nightmare, ” said Sarah as she got up unsteadily. Her mom, looking only a little less worried, left the room saying “Ok,
2017-18 Literary Magazine
to her room, closing the door behind her. She layed down and thought she would stay home sick tomorrow, and, as such, neglected to do her homework. Before she managed to fall asleep, however, she caught sight of something odd in her peripheral vision. Deep scratches had been etched into her headboard, all of which had not previously been there. She got on her knees to look closer, and noticed that they seemed to spell something out: di rituel Shizhané’é hæs das-teh-do. Since she had Mr. Ellsworth, who had taught the class the basics of the Navajo language, she knew the scratches spelt out ‘the ritual purification has begun.’ The instant she translated the words, they started oozing a dark crimson, viscous liquid that had a very metallic scent. She screamed, realizing the liquid was congealing blood, but the sound was strangely muffled, to the point of near silence. The blood streams began to coalesce into a singular point, and began forming a solid shape. Sarah tried leaving her room, but her door wouldn’t open. She glanced back and saw the streams had quelled. She slowly crept toward her bed, wary of any other oddities. Upon reaching her bed she found a strange crimson, crystal sphere with jagged spikes jutting out of one side. Sarah was hesitant, but felt a strange urge telling her to pick it up and pocket it. She did so, and it seemed to change its size to conform to the size of her pockets. She suddenly became very tired and collapsed onto her bed once again. Later that night she woke up due to a sudden chill, which was extremely strange since it was late February near the Mojave desert. As she got up and closer to the window the air became consistently colder. She opened her
shade and screamed, but once again, the sound seemed to be absorbed. Outside her second story window was a man with unnaturally white skin, and countless scars running up and down his body. But the strangest thing was the mask that he wore. It was a strange dyed leather with the right and left halves being different pieces stitched together; the right was pure white, the left a dark mottled red. Where the mouth would be was a yellow tube with strange fibers attached to the base. The whole thing seemed to be hand stitched, with twine knots dangling off of it at the corners. The strange man sluggishly lifted his hand and pointed at her with his gnarled fingers that looked to be bent at unnatural angles. Only then did she notice the holes in his hands and feet, dripping his strange, iridescent blood. “Ałhosh” he said in a melodic, yet wilting voice. Quickly Sarah translated it to ‘sleep’, and the second she understood what it meant she collapsed, unconscious. When Sarah woke up she found herself in one of the many caves that dotted the mountains of the desert in which she lived; she could tell due to the distinct red stone it was made out of. She tried getting up but quickly found that she had been tied down to a large slab of that very same stone. Though it was night she could tell at least a day had passed, since the moon was just now rising again. When the last rosy fingers of the warm day fled the cold and terror returned once again, tenfold. As this was happening she also noticed the sounds of wind and rain beginning to form. Suddenly drawings appeared on the walls. Each of these somewhat crude images contained various gruesome scenes and hellish 26
2017-18 Literary Magazine
landscapes. However, one in particular caught her eye. It was of four men, who appeared to be Native American, being crucified. The ones who were crucifying them looked like priests and townsfolk, but they wore strange symbols which appeared to be a demented form of the typical Catholic imagery. Suddenly the masked man appeared, along with three others, all with their hands and feet pierced. The man leaned in close to her face. When he did so, Sarah got a clear look at his mask; the strange leather freaked her out. It smelled like decaying flesh, and looked a lot like human skin.
the abyss.’ On the last word the man from her window brought the spiked end down, with a deranged look in his eyes, and plunged it into Sarah’s chest. It pierced her heart, but strangely she did not start bleeding. Her body began to rapidly cool, it was becoming excruciating like an infinite number of needles burrowing deeper into her body. Finally everything within her froze, and she shattered. Epilogue: “It’s been three months since Sarah Griffith disappeared,” that was all the news reporter could get out before Sarah’s mom turned it off. She hugged her other daughter, Sarah’s little sister, April, and sobed “I miss you, Sarah,” as the antique grandfather clock in the corner chimed nine, and the room acquired an unnatural chill. n
“Nilj tááłáí ályaa,” they said angrily in unison, pointing to the picture, then to the crucifix on her necklace. Sarah translated it to ‘You are one of them.’ She noticed one of them coming forward with a piece of flint, and he struck a fire beneath her. She started screaming. This time the sound was crystal clear, but no one would ever hear her. They began rotating and dancing around her slowly chanting. The same man from her window raised the blood crystal, the spikes seemed to have grown an extreme amount. They must have taken it from her when she was unconscious.
A House of Silence Joshua Norton ‘18 The Story In the year 2123 the United States, along with much of the world, has been consumed by a nuclear winter. For over a century now there have been warnings about the effects of nuclear weapons as well as global warming. In the science community, this threat of pollution was indeed very real; however, oil and natural gas companies made it nearly impossible for not only the nation, but the world, to switch to a cleaner form of energy. Furthermore, the world’s governments and the United Nations did little to make people aware of the danger in which the world was in. While technologically
“Kéé diyin ayóí át’éii-di aniné,” she translated it to ‘rise god of death’ “Nihí yílyeed jiníyá ni, yíjááh djj hinílá dóó dzhel,” they chanted louder, ‘we call upon you, give us life and strength’ “Nihí yízhí ni Yei, yeiyí’aah-di aniné, naat’áanii-di di ch’jjdiitah,” they chanted, practically screaming. Sarah was translating as they were talking: ‘We name you Yei, bringer of death, ruler of
2017-18 Literary Magazine
advanced, energy never made the leap forward that was necessary to better our climate. Additionally, since the beginning of the twentyfirst century, people became obsessed with technology and the capabilities of it. Art, such as music and traditional paintings died out. The world, in a way, became overrun with technology. People became too concerned with what was happening on their phones that they began to ignore everything else happening in the world. Governments turned away from politicking and turned towards monopolizing technologies. The rich benefited and the poor suffered; however, it would turn out that no matter how much money one had, there was no escaping the death of the world. In efforts to take over the technology industry, countries went to war with each other. These wars escalated to a point where nuclear weapons were being used daily; thus, resulting in a state where life became very hard to sustain on our once thriving planet. Cities all over the world were leveled. The only evidence that humans ever existed came from the suburbs. Automated houses continued their daily routines. Every morning these houses would call for their nonexistent inhabitants to wake up. They would prepare food and clean. Then at night bathtubs would fill with water and stories would be read to the children who are now playing in heaven. The houses became custodians to the silence of the world. During the cold days, and throughout the nighttime nuclear glow, there was nothing but silence. No birds chirped, no engines hummed, and no people conversed. The only disturbance to the hush of Earth came at 9:00 AM every day. For four seconds, each house would simultaneously
announce the date, and as the fifth second came, silence would once again consume everything. The houses eventually, much like humanity, died one by one. In due course, only one house spoke saying, “Today is June 23rd , 2124, have a fabulous Friday!” and from that day forward, no house spoke ever again, causing even the silence to lose track of time. The Science In a story, such as the one above, there is much scientific fact and fiction that can be found. To begin, global warming and pollution are two things that are very real. The carbon cycle depends on liquid water, in Earth’s case the oceans, in order to properly function. As seen with other planets that do not have a proper carbon cycle to balance greenhouse gases – which is done by absorbing CO2 when there is too much in the atmosphere (cooling the atmosphere), and releasing it when there is not enough in the atmosphere (warming the atmosphere) – life would not be sustainable. Humans could however, over pollute the Earth causing the cycle to fall behind and ultimately fail. In terms of nuclear weapons, it is possible for the human race to destroy itself, and the world, with them. The human race may not go extinct; however, the nuclear soot absorbed into the atmosphere would block out sunlight, and more importantly infrared light, causing temperatures to plummet. Between these two issues of pollution and a nuclear winter, the Earth would suffer greatly environmentally. The idea of technology taking over is also plausible, as seen from the number of transistors doubling every
2017-18 Literary Magazine
eighteen months. We can already see that the world is technologically driven by looking at the demand for engineers, and the incorporation of computers in schools. Lastly, automated houses are not too far fetched either. We already have technology such as Amazon Echo and Philips Hue, which take a step towards the “Smart House” concept. One could probably build such a house now at the expense of a high price tag, but like all new technologies, time will make such houses more widely available. In essence, these houses would just be giant computers, containing logic functions and transistors. As previously mentioned some of this story is fiction, such as the notion of the complete extinction of life due to nuclear warfare, the idea of technology taking over, and energy not evolving to a cleaner state, which is something that is already occurring. Although, these ideas do bring our attention to the beauty of the world, and how we need to appreciate what we have, as one day it could cease to exist. n
know what it was. I’d only met her once. Anyway that’s why I was driving. I just had to think a little. I would go home soon. Not like it mattered. There was no one waiting for me. I saw this cat outside my left-hand window. Just a grey little thing. Nothing to write home about. So I kept driving. Pretty soon I figured it was time to head back. I’d done enough thinking. As I made a turn I saw that cat again. Strange thing. It had followed me all this way. Now, I’m not quite heartless, so I took this thing and bring it home. It had a collar with an address, phone number, etc. I didn’t bother to look at the name. It wasn’t mine so who cares? I tooned in to watch some ball for a while. I nearly forgot about the thing. By the time I remembered it was past midnight, so I don’t know why I bothered to call the number, but I did. I called it from my home phone. Who still has a home phone? It was picked up pretty quickly. It kinda caught me off guard a little. “Hello,” a woman said. I knew that voice. “Do you have m-” I hung up the phone. I took a glance at the thing’s collar. “So your name’s Misty,” I said, “We’ll have to change that.” n
A Grey Little Thing Matt Consorte ‘20 I was driving late one night. I wasn’t going anywhere; just driving. I just went to the movies with a few friends, dropped them off, etc. Movies were sort of strange for me. I didn’t get them. I didn’t understand how they could end the way they did. The last time I went was a few months ago with some girl I barely knew. She was nice. It didn’t last. I haven’t seen her since. She found someone else rather quickly. But it felt as though she was with me this time. Right next to me in that theatre. I don’t
The Arkansas Killer CJ Coppola ‘20 There was a man named Gordon Ericson. He was 26 years old and his hometown was Detroit, Michigan. Gordon was always extremely smart when it came to solving crimes. He would always explain to his wife, Sally, how a criminal pulled a certain crime off, or he would predict what would happen next. So, when there was a huge robbery from
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Bank of America, no detectives could seem to figure out how this happened. This is when Gordon gave the detectives some information and told them that the job must’ve taken many men, and they must’ve dug a hole under the ground that led to directly under the vehicle that transported the money and was stolen that way. Indeed, this is exactly what happened and the thieves were arrested.
on forever. His feet grew cold. “I’ll go get my slippers,” he told himself as he turned, becoming increasingly tense. He now had an eerie feeling in his stomach, as if there something wicked was behind him. What he did see absolutely shocked him--nothing at all. He looked to the floor--it too was gone--and he began to fall… He awoke. “That dream again…” n
A few months had passed when Gordon received a call from the Arkansas police station. They told him that they would play for his flight if he flew down there immediately. There were two police officers being killed every other day. When Gordon got there, the killer had done such a good job up to this point that he killed all with of them with poison, and left no trace of any other evidence. That day was supposed to be the day when two more police officers get killed. Instead, Gordon got a call that had no caller ID. The voice was a deep male voice, and he told Gordon to meet him at 46 Elm Street. Gordon was skeptical, but he did it anyways. Gordon arrived, saw a tall man, who invited Gordon into his house. They went in, started talking and when the man offered Gordon a drink this was when Gordon knew he found the killer. Gordon sprinted for the door, opened it, but all he saw was a bright white color. n
Skull - Drawing - Eddie Zhang ‘20
Spine Chiller Jack Gill ‘20 Wind flows smoothly through the trees. Tom squints his eyes. A layer of fog rolls low across the ground. Tom trips on fog covered roots as he walks slowly through the dense shadowed forestry. “I’m sorry…” he whispers softly. The wind carrying his words. He looks down at his blood soaked shirt and a tear rolls down his cheek. “I’ve destroyed myself… I love you” Tom looks up to the sky with pleading eyes and drops to his knees. A distant siren rolls through the trees. Minutes pass, a light shines on Tom, blinding his darkness attuned eyes. “Don’t move” n
The Dream Matt Consorte ‘20 He awoke in a panic. “That dream again,” he thought to himself. “I just need some coffee to calm down.” He started down the hall to the kitchen, except the hall seemed to go
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Phasmatis Woods Ben Nuttall ‘20
my pen, my skin peeled away, forming sheets of paper. I writhed in pain as blood gushed out and formed ink on the pages. My body parts tore away until finally my skeleton had created the spines of the books.
Walking home late one night, I decide to take the forest shortcut. I take the typical path, and halfway through the forest I hear a baby cry.Worried, I head in that direction. Arriving at a decrepit house I walk up the rotting steps. I follow the noise through the darkened hallways; it comes from an old crib. I bend down to see inside it, and the door slams behind me. I look down, and scream. Inside is the decaying corpse of an infant. Suddenly a small hand grabs my leg. It’s unnaturally cold. It’s excruciating and everything goes dark. n
“This will make a great first batch.” n My Friend Michael Consorte ‘20 My friend was driving me around one night. The party was over and it was pitch black, besides the light of the moon and the headlights of the car, leading the way. I remember the bend in the road where he turned. I relive this turn every night. The blinding light, the busting tires, then nothing. Darkness. I woke up in a hospital bed with broken ribs, a searing headache that made me barely able to move. I was lucky.
Demon Matt Brooks ‘20 It was 3:07 when he was lying in the darkness of his room, tired, yet unable to sleep. It was 3:07 when he felt the nails rip at the flesh on his back. 3:07 when he looked into the black, soulless eyes and felt its pale, wet skin.The creature from the deepest bowels of Hell. It was 3:07 when his grip on reality slowly began to fade and he choked on his own blood. He woke up sweating and frantically searched for the alarm clock. It read 3:06, and he heard his door creak open. n
We held a service for him in school before the funeral the next day. I wish I could have gone. Said goodbye. I would walk down the halls and hear people talking. I would get angry at what they would say: sometimes they talked as if nothing happened, sometimes they showed sympathy, and still, others said it was his fault, that he was drinking. But I know we never drank at that party. We never did anything like that. We weren’t brought up that way. At least I thought he wasn’t.
My First Book Amit Chandra ‘20 I was at the musty office of Alfred Pierce, a renowned publisher. We were at the final stages of publishing my autobiography.
He did drink that night, but I didn’t know. How could I not have known? I never knew the things he was going through with his family, his dad, the beating. It makes me wonder how close we really were. Everything became clear after he died, I just wish it would have been clear when he was alive. n
“Just sign here.” He handed me a pen and a paper with a list of terms and conditions. I quickly signed the paper without thinking much of it. As I lifted
2017-18 Literary Magazine
the raised patio,” screamed Kirstie from her slum of a kitchen. I went out to the raised patio to grab a bite. Kimberly was waiting out there. Don’t tell the other moms, but I’m pretty sure Kimberly stole my Versace fur boots. She can have them though, those shoes were pretty trashy. “Oh hi there Jessica. Haven’t seen you in a while. Say, why haven’t you been coming to any of Baton Rouge’s polo games recently. He and my dashing Taylor Lautner Jr. have been doing really well.” Wow, I couldn’t believe that dungbag was trying to shame me. “Sorry, Kimberly, some of us actually have jobs to attend. Being a part time thai boxing instructor isn’t easy, you know.” Ha. That should teach her to shut up. Thirsty Kirstie walked out onto her patio and slammed something onto the table. “Hey girls! Why don’t we stop the quarreling and do something fun!” The odd box she put on the table was brown with carvings of what looked like a jungle. I don’t know what Kirstie’s idea of fun is, but all I know is that this lady is C-R-A-Z-E-E. “It’s called Jumomji,” Kirstie said. “I ..like...found it in my basement. It seems sort of lame but hopefully it’ll shut your crusty kale frittata holes up.” Nasty. I was willing to do anything to get Kimberley to shut up, so I joined in. Once I picked up my piece, the other ladies followed. Even though Margot is technically in charge, I’m pretty much the baddest one here, so you know they bow down to me. Once we all chose our pieces, Kirstie opened up the board. That’s when it happened. The Jumanji board started to flash. An ominous glow came out of the middle of the board and our bodies started to turn to dust. Whatever was going on, it was like, totes sketch. My guess is that
Editor’s note:The editor’s would like to express their sincere apologies for the following piece. Unfortunately Dylan and Michael have been watching too many Real Housewives episodes. They may need an intervention.
Romance Stories Jumomji Dylan Schwartz & Michael Iasalvatore ‘20 It was a Tuesday morning. Today was “Thirsty” Kirstie Edmondson’s turn to host brunch. She always hosts the worst brunches (she doesn’t even have a mimosa fountain, gosh!) But as a loyal member of the Beverly Hills chapter of Mom’s Club, I had no choice but to attend. I said goodbye to my kids, Finwald, Luna, and Baton Rouge, the lights of my life, and started up the rose gold BMW i8 with the upgraded Eye - Drawing - Eddie Zhang ‘20 interior; I wanted to get the one with the cup heaters, but my no good husband said that “$200,000 for warm lattes is too much.” Anyways, I skedaddled out of my driveway to Kirstie’s peasant sized home. Her house is only a measly 5,200 square feet - it should be a crime to have a house that small! When I arrived at Kirstie’s house, the other girls were there waiting. ”It’s about time you showed up,” said Margot, president of our mom’s club chapter. “Leave her alone, Margot! There’s peach mimosas and avocado toast on
2017-18 Literary Magazine
it’s a hallucination from Kirstie’s near raw caged egg frittatas (shudders). The next thing I knew, I was falling from the sky. I couldn’t help but scream, not because I was falling hundreds, possibly thousands of feet from the sky, but for some reason, I wasn’t wearing the Prada I came to brunch with. I looked down to see I was wearing the clothing of the homeless. “Ralph. Lauren. How?!?!” I would NEVER be caught wearing this on a regular day. You know what us Beverly Hills moms say, “If it isn’t foreign, it’s borin’.” After another 20 years of falling, I finally landed. Around me were people who resembled Kirstie, Kimberly, and Margot - I couldn’t tell for sure though since they were wearing broke people’s clothes like Banana Republic, White House Black Market, and L.L Bean. How trashy. Seriously. “OMG! What happened!?” Said Margot. “I think it’s the game! It must’ve sucked us in here!” said Kirstie. “Congratulations, Thirsty Kirstie! Thanks to your stupid game, were trapped in a world we don’t even know. We might not even be able to make it out!” I screamed. Kirstie looked enraged. “Hey! I wouldn’t have had to bring the game out if you weren’t such a stupid, blabbermouth, intrusive-”. “Stop it, guys,” said Margot. “Fighting right now isn’t practical! We have no idea where we are or what to do, and the only thing you guys can do is get at each other’s throats? Really?” Even though I wanted to snap back at Margot, she was right. We were all losing control, and none of us knew what to do. I was starting to feel lightheaded and that’s never a good sign. “Webmd says that means I died 7 minutes ago. Uh-oh,” I exclaimed. I went over to a log so I could sit down and process the fact that I was
dead, but just as I was about to sit down, a van drove up, and I saw the greatest man I’ve ever seen in my life. He had the abs of a Greek god (preferably Poseidon). His hair was long and luscious, almost the same as the hair on my german whoodle (German Shepherd +Wheaten Terrier + Poodle). His name was Alfonzo, and he was here to show us how to win the game. We got in the car, all totally in awe of him. “Hello Moms, I am Alfonzo. I am a pawn in the world of rich lawyers and strong independent white moms. This is Jumomji, a place where you must retrieve the cap of Fiji to restore the balance of -” “Hi uhm hey yes are you single because rrrrrrrrrr,” Kirstie interrupted, no wonder her nickname is Thirsty. “Kirstie shut your un-botoxed face-hole.” That really hurt her. “You see” Alfonzo continued, “Not long ago, a tyrant of a mom came to Jumomji in search of the Fiji cap, for it would give her the power to make unlimited frittatas and NEVER run out of Fiji water. However her reason for wanting the Fiji water was so sinister, I myself can hardly say it.” “SAY IT OMG” said Margot (ugh she always had to be so demanding). “She planned to throw it away, all of it. Oh look at that we’re here. Remember moms, stick together. To leave the game, you must take the cap, put it on the bottle and shout “JUMOMJI”. Alfonzo then turned to me and put something in my hand. It was blue and perfectly round. “This is the cap, Jessica. I trust you to put it on the bottle. Best of luck, be-be.” Just like that we were out of the car. “Ugh this is totally awful,” Kimberly said as a gnat started pestering her. She swatted and hit her fake left boob. A bubble popped up listing all of her strengths and weaknesses.
2017-18 Literary Magazine
As soon as I finished reading my own strengths, we heard something, it sounded like a latte being made. I would recognize that sound anywhere. We turned to see Starbucks baristas, holding venti reusable cups that shot exploding Splenda packs - this had to be a nightmare. We started running (thank God I joined the private tennis league). I was ahead of all the other moms when I remembered, “LADIES! OUR WEAPONS!” I pulled my Bralette slingshot out of my back pocket and it had cage-free eggs ready to be launched. Obviously I was born to do this, because I slayed. More baristas kept coming. Kimberly, Kirstie, and Margot all used their own strengths to get rid of the other baristas. There was one left with a TRENTA reusable cup. Kirstie walked towards the barista. “No one ruins MY starbucks. Your black slacks have a wrinkle and that shade of lip liner is revolting. Also, next time wear an apron that actually accentuates your curves, as we can all see, they need some work booboo.” Kirstie walked away as if in slow motion and flipped her blonde extensions as the final barista poofed into dust.
with the hellish atrocity that was the water of Jumomji. Gucci models with various designer weapons emerged wearing the latest swimwear. We decided to let Margot handle this. She was starting to get angry and had to blow off steam. The models were beat in no time. With every kill Margot said something along the lines of “That’s for stealing the last ice blue mink lace one-piece you swine.” We kept going, if we sat down now, our knee botox wouldn’t let us stand up. While we walked, I couldn’t help but think, this has really helped us bond! In the beginning, all we could do was hate each other. And even though this sort of...like….sucks, I’m sort of happy that we are getting along so well. And just as I was about to say something, Kimberly and Kirstie started fighting over the most venial thing, whether or not the new Gucci sunglasses had an appropriate amount of UV protection. “Kirstie you’re just jealous because MY husband’s law firm had a better fiscal year than yours!!” “OMG I KNOW YOU DID NOT SAY THAT.” Kirstie shoved Kimberly into a wall, In retaliation, Kimberly shoved back, but a little bit too hard. Kirstie slammed onto the ground and the worst thing imaginable happened, her stiletto snapped. She fell to the ground and hit her head. She got a scratch on her nose. Talk about collateral damage. “NO!” I screamed. The other girls were crying. “I’m so sorry!” Screamed Kimberley “I never wanted to hurt you! I just couldn’t control myself. I..I...I’m the worst!”. She started to sob. Kirstie used her last dying breath to respond, “I…Forgive...You... Queen.” An awkward silence came over the jungle. The noise of the wild faded away. in an instant, Kirstie’s body turned to dust. She was
I wanted to congratulate her but we had to keep moving (Luna had Swahili Dance lessons at 6 and she missed the night before because of her badminton lessons, skipping again would be unacceptable). We reached a river, “The next challenge,” I assumed. Margot was at this point beyond parched, and I was too. We agreed NEVER to speak of this moment to anyone, but we bent down and drank from the river. I almost spit it out. Was this Peasant Spring? When we all stood up, utterly disgusted
2017-18 Literary Magazine
brought up to the heavens. All of us couldn’t control our emotions. Even though she made horrible quiches (for those of you uncultured swine-like peasants, that’s frittata with bread, get with it babe *snap*), we still loved her. This was..like..the most tragic thing, ever. We heard a loud noise and a whoosh of win., IT WAS KIRSTIE!! She landed hard in a squat, stilettos repaired and outfit freshly pressed. Her hair looked good too. Had she gotten it straightened while she was in the great beyond? I didn’t care. I was so happy to see her. After hysterically apologizing for every mean thing we had ever said about her (Margot even said she was sorry for calling her house a hut and saying there was nothing grand about her grand foyer), we all promised to buy Kirstie brunch when we got back home. “Ladies” Margot said, what could she possibly want? I didn’t know. “I really love all of you, you’re like, my besties, my girls.” Margot? Not being a self-centered and conceited prissy golf mom? I was floored. “We love you too Margot, but we’ll love you more when we’re all back sleeping comfortably in our adjustable beds crying while watching The Bachelor. So let’s keep moving!! We can like totally do this!!” We “YASSSS”ed in union. It was honestly the most empowering experience I have ever had like we are all just such queens. I felt it, we had this, we had the power of Fiji running through our veins, NOTHING could stop us. We were all the way up.
making a chai latte!” exclaimed Kimberly. We all started to strut towards the mountain. We were queens. The final test was too easy to be true, almost a little bit too easy. Kimberly looked confused. “Um, girls? What’s that noise?” “I hear it too!” Said Margot. The rest of us started to hear it. It sounded like a stampede of elephants. The noise started to get exponentially louder. “Maybe it’s an oncoming pride of lions!” I suggested. That’s when we saw it. It was much worse than lions. It was worse than a squadron of military grade bomber planes. More horrible than the general clientele at Whole Foods. It was the nightmare of every parent. Pubescent boys, and lots of them. We could see their acne infested faces charging towards us. There battle cry was filled with voice cracks, and the air reeked of Axe Body Spray, Doritos, and desperation. We were disgusted, but we charged ahead. We took out our weapons, and hesitated to attack at first, after all, they were just boys. But then Kirstie slammed her Louboutin pump into the skull of one of the smaller children. “OH MY GOD KIRSTIE!” Margot screamed. “They aren’t real kids! They are simulations” said Kirstie. Just then, the boy with the cracked skull turned to dust. She was right, they weren’t real. All they are is code. At that moment, we all looked at each other, what was this feeling? EMPOWERMENT, we are QUEENS and honey we S L A Y the game. We charged forward and fought our way through. We were doing ok but our weapons weren’t doing a ton, then Kimberly pulled something out of her purse, it looked like a bottle.”OMG KIMBERLY NOW IS N O T THE TIME TO MOISTURIZE!!” Kimberly responded and said “YOU DUMB COW!!
We walked towards the mountain where the Fiji bottle was and it looked pretty clear like seriously I thought there’d be booby traps and whatever but no! “This will be easier than
2017-18 Literary Magazine
IF THERE IS ANYTHING THAT WILL KILL THE BOYS ITS PROACTIVE!!” I remember hearing about this on an infomercial on the E! Network while watching KUWTK. I had never needed it because my children inherited my flawless skin and cheekbones more structured than the Taj Mahal, but some people apparently had pimples like all the time so it was a necessity. Kimberly passed the bottle around and we each put a glob of the cream on our hands. “Let’s go, girls!” said Margot, and we charged forward with all of our might. We have never been so in sync. We ran past the kids, slapping proactive onto there cheeks as we ran by. One by one, they turned to dust. The Fiji bottle was getting closer. All we had to do was pick up the pace just a little bit more. Whenever we were close to running out, Kimberly would sprint to us and give us another glob. After about 3 minutes of running, I made it. The view was amazing. I looked around me and I saw the other girls holding back the crowd. “You’ve got this, queen!” they said in unison. This was my moment. I pulled the cap out and screwed it on. It clicked in place. Now there was just one thing left to do. I let the others know it was time. “Ready, girls?”. This was it.
few seconds, I saw a bright light. Was I leaving? Finally? Wow. I couldn’t believe it was over. We’d gone through so much. When we started this journey we wanted each other dead. Over time, we started to hate each other even more, but when we thought we lost Kirstie, we realized how much we needed each other. From that point on, we learned to work as a team. We appreciated each others presence, and now, I think you might even be able to call us friends. Even though this journey was tough and we miss our families, Im happy I got to make real relationships. Thank you, Jumomji! We arrived back at Kirstie’s, but it was strange, the avocado toast was still warm. I guess no time had passed in the real world. Which is a good thing because if it did I could NOT risk getting wrinkles, I’d have to schedule a botox appointment as soon as possible. Maybe I’d take Luna this time, it’s time to get rid of those disgusting dimples. “Ladies, I love you all so much.You are all such queens, even though your Hermes Paris bags are from the winter collection, not spring, I love you all. n
“3…2…1....JUMOMJI!!!!!!!!!” A blue light engulfed the land around us. The rest of the boys disappeared. We did it! We beat Jumomji! Just then, the sexy beast Alfonzo rode over on his manly quad. He pulled his helmet off and let his luscious hair loose. “Good Job, mis be-bes.Te amo mucho. Now it’s time to go. Thank you”. Everything around us vanished in a flash. The world around me was silent. For a
Forest Path - Photograph - Ben Nuttall ‘20
2017-18 Literary Magazine
As the Breeze Flies Alex Barbour ‘20
towards the shops, Santiago sees her,Viola. The most beautiful woman in the city. She has olive skin and long black hair, which seems to be alive as she moves through the city. She is the one that he wishes to marry. Every man in the city is the other half of the rope, but nobody can tie the knot. Everything about her is perfect everything including her…
The setting takes place in 17th century Spain in Toledo, the sword making capital city and also well known for their leather. A young, mistreated, yet humble boy, named Santiago, works as an apprentice for an abusive swordsmith in central Toledo. He lives on his own, for his mother and father were lost to the Bubonic Plague quite recently. The only thing keeping him going is the beauty of Toledo, Viola, who happens to be the richest merchants daughter. He has never felt love for anyone other than his parents, but now there is nobody else to love, for she is his possible saving grace.
“Quit your slacking, boy! I need you to run to the market for me.You must pick up leather gloves, leather boots, another apron, and some wine,” said his master, abruptly interrupting his train of thought. Santiago looks up at him and nods frantically with a fearful excitement. He bursts through the shop doors and runs to the shop, but the young maiden had left. Santiago moped around the marketplace, not worrying about anything, hoping that he would eventually run into her. When he turned the corner, standing right in front of him was Viola.
Act 1: “What’s wrong with you, boy? The heat is too high! You’ll make the metal more brittle!” squawked Santiago’s master “I’m sorry master. It won’t happen again,” replied Santiago with a slight tremble in his voice. “I am very distraught. It’s hard to maintain focus after my father’s passing.”
“H-h-h-hi th-th-there,” he blabbered uselessy. With an unexpected reaction,Viola smiled at him. “Cat stole your tongue? Oh well. Let’s start from the beginning. Hi,I’m Viola.”
“I don’t care about your personal life, boy!” screamed his master, smacking Santiago with his leather gloves. “I should have hired a different boy rather than a swine like you.”
“I’m Santiago,” he said managing to maintain his tongue. “You’re different from other boys, but I like it.You’re humble,” complimented Viola
Rubbing his cheek, he went back to work, continuing his project for the King of Spain. The only thing Santiago knew was the heat of the shop, drifting through the window as the breeze flies away, freely through the streets of the City, frolicking in the marketplace and whistling their tune. As he gawks out
“Thank you?” he replied confused. “I usually don’t get complimented.”
“No wonder,” she said smirking at him
“My master always tends to…”
2017-18 Literary Magazine
“WHERE ARE YOU, BOY!”
much but it is something,” said Santiago.
“Duty calls,” Santiago said begrudgingly. “Hopefully I will see you soon?”
“Thank you kind sir. It is not the quantity that matters, it’s the thought,” replied the woman. “Besides, I think it is time for me to repay you.”
“See you soon Santi,” she replied with a bright expression.
The old woman’s figure began to change. It was as if time was starting to move in reverse, for she had aged many years back into a beautiful enchantress with long blonde hair and peach colored skin. She was still staring at Santiago with kind eyes. Santiago, as usual, couldn’t control his tongue.
Act 2: Santiago starts to head back to the shop with almost all of the supplies that are “needed”. He walks through the shop to be immediately welcomed with a slap to the back of the head.
“W-w-w-what just ha-hahappened?” stuttered Santiago.
“Where is the wine! I told you that I needed mead! What were you thinking!”
“You have shown care for others, and for that, I reward you,” she replied. “Whatever you wish shall come true, but there are limitations. I can’t bring back loved ones. That is my only rule.”
“They ran out of wine. I got there right when they sold the last bottle. I tried to buy it off of the man but instead, he slapped me like you just did,” Santiago replied with a sharp tone.
Speechless, Santiago began to think of what he wanted, for it was a difficult decision for him to make. Suddenly, it hit him.
“Watch your tongue boy, or you won’t have one to use!” threatened his master. “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again,” replied Santiago apologetically.
“I wish I could have more time to myself and time to spend with others, for that is what I would like.”
“You should have thought before you said, boy!” screamed the master as he stormed off.
“So be it!” she said excitedly.
After the long hours of the day slowly faded into the night, Santiago was walking back to his petite hut when he saw a woman, old and cloaked in the darkness. He slowly began to approach the woman, with caution. She turned to him and made direct eye contact with him.
Everything around Santiago was still the same, but something felt different, as if a burden was lifted off of his shoulders. He felt free. With that good feeling, he looked up to the direction of the enchantress, except she was gone. There was no sign of her. Santiago, confused and delirious, began to walk home with that good feeling still rushing through his body.
“Excuse me, sir. I was wondering if you could spare me anything, whether it be milk, water, or bread?” the woman asked.
“Tomorrow is going to be a good day. I have a good feeling about it.”
“Yes, I have some bread right here. It’s not
2017-18 Literary Magazine
second for each other on the hills. The scent of the grass and honey filling the air, as the breeze flies, as the breeze flies, and as the breeze flies.
Act 3: The next morning, Santiago jumped out of bed, contemplating whether it was a dream or not. He looks around to see if there was anything noticeably different, but there wasn’t, so he began his everyday schedule. He had something to eat, puts on his clothes and left his house. He started to head into the town towards the swordsmith, but the shop was closed. Everything was boarded up and locked. With excitement, he ran into the marketplace, looking for Viola. Street after street, alley after alley, shop after shop, Santiago searched everywhere, but she was not to be seen, until he came across the bridge by the river, where Viola was musing while looking at the river. Santiago slowly approaches from the street to the bridge. He walked up the bridge and over to Viola; she turned to him with a bright smile across her face.
The End n Create a World Charles Okang ‘20 Main Characters: Marquise- A regular human. He is a blood, wears a red durag, and a red shirt that says “BOOLIN”, claims he is “always throwin up B’s”, plays basketball. His nickname is Tay K because his middle name is Taymor and he always keeps a K. Daquan- He can do anything and everything, he is the realist friend you can get, he is a crip, wears blue durag and blue clothes, replaces all letter B’s in a word with C, his nickname is Cube Setting: On a planet called Sarquise in a city called BloCip.
“I see you have some more time on your hands,” she said.
Paragraph 1: [Marquise and Daquan both are from two different gangs, Marquise is a blood and Daquan is a crip, on the same planet which is very similar to earth.] One day a 16 year old boy, Marquise, was walking down the street, not paying attention because he was on his phone. He took the wrong turn and he ended up on the wrong block. A block run by crips, and of course he was wearing all red with his shirt that says “BOOLIN” on it clearly stating that he is a blood. When he looked up from his phone he realized where he was. When he tried to run it was too late. He was surrounded by crips and their infamous leader, Daquan. Marquise saw all of them and knew he was bound to die, and he was ready to accept it. He put his head
“Yes, I do have time,” Santiago replies.
“Would you like to spend the afternoon with me? I was hoping you would promenade by,” she asked.
Viola and Santiago spent the entire afternoon with each other outside of the city, over by the hills and valleys, looking out towards the river. They enjoyed every minute they had spent with each other, as the time was freely spent. They formed a growing love, which grew even stronger than ever. The love they shared was powerful, and they would spare every last
2017-18 Literary Magazine
down and was ready to die, but when he lifted up his head, it was just he and Daquan. He did not know what had happened to all the other people around. He had heard the rumors that Daquan had powers and could do anything but Marquise believed that is impossible on Sarquise. Daquan looked up at Marquise and called him by his nickname only one person, his father knew, Tay K. He asked Daquan how he knew his nickname and Daquan all of a sudden started floating. Marquise thought he was high but he was not. Daquan told him it was really happening and that he could prove it. He told him, “Forget about the gangs right now, let me show you some real G stuff.”
something and that everybody can get along despite their differences. Marquise said that he was happy Daquan showed him what he did and maybe they could hang out another time. Daquan said “sure” and then they parted ways, only to see each other the next day for a gang war that did not happen because Marquise and Daquan were getting along. In a world where there was always fighting and killing, for the first time ever there was peace. n My Romance Story Liam McKiernan ‘20 Chick ching! The cash register opened as Liam handed the car salesman his debit card.
Paragraph 2: Daquan turned into a blue and red pterodactyl and Marquise got on his back. A portal came, and they went into the future. Daquan showed Marquise everything, how he would die, all the kids that would die from each of their hoods, and all the gang wars that would continue to happen on Sarquise especially in BloCip. Marquise began to get very sad. He got so upset that Daquan decided to cool him down by going to explore different planets. They went to all the planets in the solar system and had fun with all the people on each. Some planets were all bloods and some were all crips.
Liam said, “No need to put anything in there. I’m using my card.” Liam paid the first payment of the $15,000 2200 Chevy Sonic Turbo he was purchasing. The car dealership, Liam had to admit, was pretty sketchy. He was a little creeped out but came to realize that the car was nice and there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it. Later that night Liam was on his way to his girlfriend Laurel’s house. He went to go pick her up and surprise her with his brand new car. He pulled into Laurel’s driveway and called her. Laurel said her mom wouldn’t let her out that night, so she had to sneak around the back. Liam pulled around the back street and Laurel screamed, “OMG! I can’t believe you got a brand new car. It’s amazing babe!” Liam picked her up and they were on their way to see a movie. They drove in the old, dark parking lot and parked the car. Laurel said, “What’s this button do?” “Click” All of the sudden lights flashed. It was like they were
Paragraph 3: Then they went to a planet where it was just full of amusement parks where anyone could come. It did not matter if you were in a gang or not. Everybody went there and got along. They went on every ride, ate so much food, and met so many different types of people. When Marquise and Daquan were back on the block were they had met, Daquan told Marquise that he hoped he learned
2017-18 Literary Magazine
blinded by the light for a moment, and when they opened their eyes back up to see what was going on there were cars hovering all over the place along with Liam’s car. It was like they time traveled. The movie theater seemed all lit up and very advanced in technology. They must have been in the future. They eventually found the newspaper that read the year of 3015. They both were shocked with excitement and insisted on exploring as much as they could as a couple. They skipped the movies and saw many holograms, flying cars, floating houses, robots, and more. They were both astonished, but it was getting very late. Liam insisted on going back while Laurel begged him to stay. Liam eventually pushed the button and they appeared back at the old movie theater, and it was now closed. Liam brought Laurel back home, and they both said goodbye and I love you. After this night they kept going back to future over and over again for the next three weeks. Liam eventually told Laurel he was sorry, but he thought that it was not good to travel like that anymore and that all their friends and family would know they were missing but did not know where they were. It was beginning to look to strange. He told Laurel he would be giving the car back to the dealership and getting rid of it for good. But Laurel became obsessed with the time travel. That night while Liam was sleeping Laurel snuck around Liam’s house, found his keys, and got in the car. Before he knew it she was gone. The car flashed away. The next morning Liam woke up and his car was not there. He found a note where he put his keys though. It read,”I’m sorry babe. I know you didn’t like the time travel but I need to live this experience out. Stay strong.
Love, Laurel.” From that day on Liam reported his car missing to the police but couldn’t do anything about Laurel. She was gone and if he told the police what really happened they would never believe him. Liam’s first and only love was gone. He was left heartbroken. He received a check from the insurance for his missing car and tried to get a new car from the same place but none of the cars were the same and none of the cars had the button. Not even the 2200 Chevy Sonic Turbo. Liam from that point on never found Laurel again and remained heartbroken losing his true love forever. n The World in Which Only I Exist Amit Chandra ‘20 They are all nothing but insects, living out their meager lives until they rot and wither away into oblivion. Why do they even exist? Is this some simulation that I decided to partake in an eternity ago? Perhaps the memory of it receded into a crevice in my mind. I have been living with these creatures that dub themselves “humans” for as long as I can remember. I have seen them make careless errors time and time again, failing to make even the most basic of decisions. Some days when I am feeling especially bored, I attempt to interact with these creatures. It is always futile. My hand slips through their bodies every time without fail. Considering that I can see them but they can not see me, I managed to come to a conclusion long ago. This is a world where only I exist. Every day is the same as the last. I watch them and the silly decisions they make time and time again. Oftentimes I
2017-18 Literary Magazine
see a pair of creatures locking their arms around each other and moving against one another. At first, I assumed that it was a precursor for some sort of fight that was about to ensue, but that brawl never came.
most lavish and alluring thing that I have ever seen. I wanted to touch it; something I had not attempted to do for a very long time. For a moment, and only a moment, I thought I would actually be able to feel it. Once again, it was futile. I would be lying if I said that I truly understand what I am feeling. How can I find something that does not exist so enticing?
They repeat the same things over and over again like a pattern. One may think that this would become uneventful after a while, but somehow it does not. Every single one of them repeats the same thing over and over again in a slightly different way from the others, so that it makes each of them interesting in their own, pathetic way. I guess that I am not better than them in that sense. I watch these creatures daily and never cease to be amused by everything that they do. The difference is that I exist, and they do not. I am superior to them.
Her physical features are not the only parts of her that are attractive. She has the most wonderful personality. She is independent and confident, but not in an overbearing way. She makes such witty and clever jokes that have never failed to make me chuckle. In addition to all of this, she is the kindest and most caring human I have ever seen. I want to talk to her and have some sort of conversation, anything at all. I keep attempting this, each time hoping that she will happily greet me and ask for my name. My wish never came to fruition.
I have heard the word “love” uttered by the creatures for a very long time, but I never truly understood what it meant. I managed to decipher a vague definition of the word. I guess that I would describe it as the strong attachment someone feels to someone else. This attachment could be so strong that they would be willing to risk their life for the one they love. Life is incredibly precious to these creatures. It is another thing that I will probably never be able to understand. Perhaps my lack of understanding is one of the reasons why I will never be able to love someone, but that does not matter. I exist and they do not. I do not need to prove myself to these figments of my imagination.
Diane went on with her life. She graduated from a prestigious university, became a therapist, married, had two children, retired, and eventually passed away. It was the same cycle that I had seen in so many other humans, but hers was the most special. Diane was unique and wonderful in such a way that was different than any other human on the planet. She had her little nuances that defined the person she was. Her life was something that my close-minded self could never imagine, and it was certainly not something that could be cooked up in some simulation. Diane helped me realize that I was not the only person who existed in this world. This is a world in which only I do not exist. n
I saw a beautiful creature today. Perhaps the word “creature” is unfitting. This human had the most magnificent smile that one could ever lay their eyes upon, and its hair was the
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Revenge Mark Altieri ‘20
rudely responded. “I heard your wife has cancer, and I can make her one hundred percent fine for a small cost.” The man was creepy looking, dressed in all black. But what he said sounded almost too good to be true. I nervously asked him “How is that possible?” He told me, “I was born with some powers, but as quickly as I can heal I can also harm.” I answered “OK, but what’s the cost?” “Two hundred thousand, and if you don’t pay I will put a curse on you.” I wasn’t sure how I would be able to pay him off, but I cared too much about Jennifer to let that stop me. “OK, you got yourself a deal.”
Jennifer and I had been married for three years when something happened that would change our lives forever. I’d met her over blueberries in Stop & Shop back in 2084. I almost hadn’t made that trip, but I was so hungry and wanted to drive my new red lightning-powered hover car. So I went and while I was shopping I saw the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life. She was picking out blueberries. “C’mon you got this,” I repeated in my head as I was walking up to her. “Hi, I’m John” I said to the beautiful girl. “Hi, I’m Jennifer.” My mind was racing trying to come up with a conversation topic. “Do you like blueberries?” I frantically asked. She started laughing and responded “Yes, do you?” I accidentally shouted, “Yes, I very much do!”
Everything was going well now that Jennifer had miraculously recovered without hyporatanius therapy. But we kept getting these scary notes left on our apartment stairs. “Pay or else.” We were already struggling to pay for the apartment; there was no way we were going to be able to pay off two hundred thousand on top of that. One day after work I came home and saw the usual note on the stairway, but this one said something different. “Now you shall accept the consequences for not paying.” The next couple of days everything that could possibly go wrong did. We both lost our jobs, the hover car died, and then we got kicked out of our apartment. OK, now this was personal. Since I had no job I decided to spend all my time trying to find the man who put this curse upon me and to kill him. Jennifer was staying with her mother about 50 miles away. I roamed the streets for days on end looking, and I never gave up. Today, I finally saw the man who put this curse on me. I ran directly at him with my knife in my pocket and confronted him. I shouted, “You take this curse off me and
We were only married for four months when Jennifer started feeling sick and was coughing a lot. I didn’t know what was wrong so we hopped into the hover car, and I rushed her to the hospital to get their input on what was wrong with her. Since the Lightening Age came, tests were really fast so even though we were there much longer than I’d expected, after two hours we knew what was wrong. “Mrs. Smith, I’m sorry to inform you that you have severe lung cancer.” When I heard the words come out of his mouth my heart sank. The doctors recommended the very latest hyporatanius therapy, but said there wasn’t a very high chance of recovery. While they took her for more tests I walked out to the hover car, and a man I have never seen before stopped me. “Are you John?” he softly asked. “Yes, who are you?” I
2017-18 Literary Magazine
my wife or I will kill you.” “Then you will have to kill me,” the man calmly replied. I went to my pocket to pull out my knife and it is gone. I looked up and he had it in his hands. “Are you sure you want to do...” Before he could finish I punched him right in the face. He tried to fight back but had no chance, because my anger couldn’t be stopped. “This is what you get for making me lose my job, my house and most importantly my mind.” He stopped fighting back and lay still on the ground. He was dead. n
whole class laughing including Sam, Charlie is embarrassed and worried. He looks to Sam and tries to tell him that it wasn’t on purpose, but as soon as Charlie opened his mouth a loud bark came out for the second time. The class continued to burst into laughter, so Mr. White had no choice but to give Charlie a detention. Charlie received a detention for barking in class. Charlie did not say anything for the rest of the day, and on the bus ride home he noticed that his body was covered with fur and his ears became poiniter. Luckily for him it was cold out so he had a coat and a hat to hide himself until he got home. After several weeks of this happening Charlie figures out that everytime he has the hiccups he turns into a dog. He slowly learns to control it, however his parents do not know about their son and his secret.
A Boy’s Best Friend Anthony Smarrelli ‘20 Sam and Charlie have known each other for years. They go to school together, they hang out together, they even go on vacation together. The two friends are inseparable, however their junior year of high school will change everything that they know about each other. Both boys live in the suburbs of New York on a narrow street in a quiet neighborhood. Sam lives four doors down from Charlie in a white, raised ranch on a hill with maintained grass and a big backyard. Sam lives in a slightly bigger house that is red with cars and tractors rotting away for years in his yard. Months away from getting their driver’s license Sam and Charlie can’t wait to drive to school next year.
Sam has always wanted a dog, but his parents won’t let him get one. Occasionally Charlie gets the hiccups and turns into a dog for Sam. The two of them run around and go for walks around the neighborhood. Charlie thinks that it is cool to be a dog especially knowing that he could be the dog that Sam has always wanted. Through this relationship the boys grew closer to each other and developed a need for each other in their lives. As a human friend or a dog friend the two of them will always be there for each other. n
The new school year has started at Elmwood High, Charlie and Sam find out that they have the same Math class together with Mr. White. After about a month into the school year Sam is talking to Charlie trying to figure out a problem in Math when all of a sudden Sam responds to Charlie with a bark. With the
Island Dreams Michael Dion ‘20 It was cold, wet, and dark. I got up off the ground to look around. I couldn’t see anything but the moon. The waves crashed
2017-18 Literary Magazine
along the shore. Where could I be? I walked closer towards the shore, realizing where I was. I was on an island. I don’t understand how this can be possible I was just in the room. I sat at the shore and watched the waves break until I saw sunlight. I was all alone, no one to talk to me or comfort me. I can’t survive, I’m a city kid whose only exposure to nature is central park. Sure I’ve seen shows like Lost or Survivor, but I can’t do this in real life.
As the sun began to set, Jonie and I roasted some kind of meat over the fire. “Spencer”, she said, “How do you honestly believe you got here?” “I wish I could tell you. I live in New York. The only island I can get to is Staten Island”, I said. I have been contemplating for almost an entire day and not a single theory of mine can make sense. I didn’t hop in Santa’s sleigh and land here. I couldn’t have just floated here in my sleep. “Maybe it’s time for you to wake up”, Jonie said. “Wake up. Wake up, Mr. Spencer”, she kept shouting to me. My friend John then popped out of the bush and started saying it too. Then, I open up my eyes and find myself back in history class. Mrs. Jonie is in front of me, John beside me. “Mr. Spencer, I have been teaching for almost 20 years, don’t pull that ever again”, she said. John laughed as I got yelled at. “Okay, let’s get back to out lesson on the Oceania Islands”, Mrs. Jonie said as I put my head back on my desk. n
It has been almost a day since I have eaten anything. I finally get the courage to venture into the woods. I turn every corner hoping to find something like a coconut or banana. Something would be nice. I walk for almost an hour and then there it was, a strawberry patch. I rip off each berry and shove it into my mouth dripping juice all over my clothes. I couldn’t care less. I was starving. As I eat my twentieth strawberry, I hear a rustle come from a nearby bush. I jump back praying it wasn’t a dangerous predator like a lion or gorilla. But it wasn’t an animal, it was a woman. “Who are you?”, she asked me. “Spencer, who are you.”, I reply. “Jonie. How did you get here? Is anyone with you? Is there a boat or plane?”, she asked hastily. She asked at least thirty questions that I couldn’t even understand. As she kept babbling on and on I couldn’t help realize how familiar she looked. Once she was done talking, she took me back to her camp. “I’ve been living here for almost 20 years. Food is scarce but there is a freshwater lake nearby”, she replied. She took me over to the lake and I drank and drank. I finally felt like I had some stamina and energy to try to survive.
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Why does my mother grieve when she knows I had to leave?
Bee Kind Ethan Wicko ‘20
I don’t know maybe the idea was too much for her to conceive.
Who’s light, round, and tiny, quite a cute little fellow?
Why does my sister try to teach and help me?
Why, a bumble bee is, dressed in black and in yellow!
I don’t know maybe because your brother picks you up and helps you to see.
Sting you? He won’t! He’s not a fierce wasp!
Why do I not believe after I hear the confession?
But don’t get confused! They’re easy to swap!
I don’t know maybe because your teachers want you to question.
Say, I bet you like eating your plump juicy fruit, Without bees they’d be scarce, not a pumpkin to boot.
Why do I get upset when it is at my discretion?
Honey! Now there’s something we can’t live without,
I don’t know maybe because you get lost in your mind.
That nectar is from bees, just flying about.
Why do I shed tears in the memory of?
So plan a small picnic, the date you should save,
I don’t know maybe because they were quite the find.
And next time you see, Mr. bee, give a wave!
Why do I wait years for the one I love?
The One Thing I Know Brian Romaniello ‘20
It’s because “love is patient, love is kind.” (1 Corinthians 13:4)
Why does my coach after hours of hard work still critique?
Concussion Shane Franklin ‘20
I don’t know maybe because your coach doesn’t want you to be weak.
Concussions are bad they’re tough and scary
Why does my baby cousin see me and through pure joy let out a shriek?
The light it burns and it hurts
I don’t know maybe because he is excited and hasn’t seen you in a week.
Finally it’s quiet,
Why does my father heed if he knows I will disagree and proclaim my own creed?
It’s a ring so loud it’s aggravating
I don’t know maybe because the least he can do is plead.
My focus its short
The noise I hear is loud rough and hurts But what’s that sound coming from my ear I want to run but its still their When I read my stomach hurts 46
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Its night but I can’t sleep
Summertime, shine your light upon the soil,
Its morning and I still have gotten no sleep
So all those beautiful dahlias can sprout,
What is it happening to me
Summertime, disperse your warmth throughout the soil,
I may be thought is was a dream I call the doc
So all those fireflies can light up the dark night sky.
He says come down let me take a look and see He says it’s a concussion So now I see it wasn’t a dream
Summertime, fill all the schoolchildren with cheer and joy,
But tis a concussion that has chained me from being free
Bring families closer as they go on new adventures, The Lake Alexander Cruz ‘20
Send the sweet smell of BBQ throughout the neighborhood,
The cool wind blows into the forest
Fill the beaches up will youngsters looking to catch a tan.
Through the lush grass Past the sleeping bear
Summertime, you are truly my favorite time of year,
Onto the sparkling water And when it reaches the lake
You bring out the good in everyone,
May the water calm down
You lift the burden of everyday life,,
For that there are fish inside
You let everyone just kick back and relax,
And humans that must drink from it
And really enjoy their life to the fullest.
Summertime Ryan Sullivan ‘20
Summertime, what do you mean you have to go?
Summertime, why don’t you come and stay a while?
It can’t be fall already, the fun was just beginning, Summertime, just stay a little while longer,
Take off that warm winter jacket and hat,
Please, summertime, please,
In exchange for a pair of sunglasses and a bathing suit,
Come spread your rays upon the Earth, And melt all that dreadful snow upon the ground.
2017-18 Literary Magazine
an extraordinary path to be an extraordinary person. With my goal of being the starter on the football field, everything fell into place. By mid-season, I was the starting running back for Notre Dame-West Haven and I led the SCC in rushing yards. The following week against Wilbur Cross was my senior night. Two minutes into the game, four rushing attempts in, I tore ligaments in my ankle.
Fail to Succeed Kaileb Cadet At Notre Dame, I knew no one and I was no longer the star running back like I was at Jonathan Law. I was fifth string. At practice I wondered if I made the right decision by attending Notre Dame. I was on junior varsity and sadly, my season ended four weeks early because I got a concussion. Heading into my junior year, I was determined to be the starter on the football team since I worked so hard to get that spot. By mid-season with about five carries, I realized that my dreams of starting might never take place. During the Thanksgiving game against Hamden, my season was cut short again with another concussion. At that point, I thought nothing could get worse.
After sitting on the sideline I had flashbacks and questions for myself. Should I have come to Notre Dame? Am I meant to play football? All those thoughts swirled around in my head because I never was able to finish an entire football season in my high school career. Instead of thinking about all the negatives, I went home that night realizing that Notre Dame was the best decision I could have made. My football career taught me that every time I got knocked down with an injury, I was able to get right back up and carry on and pursue my extraordinary path. Before attending Notre Dame my average was a 2.9 GPA and I had no goal of succeeding academically. Now, at Notre Dame-West Haven, I have played varsity in football, wrestling, and lacrosse. I am also in the National Honors Society, a peer counselor, and maintained a 3.6 GPA. What I learned from all my struggles on and off the field is that all that matters is how you finish the game of life, not how you start it! n
The following summer going into my senior year, my mother got laid off from work, and I had another big choice to make: stay and live with my mom at our cousin’s house or live with Eric and his family. That was the hardest decision I had to make, but in the end, I chose to live with Eric and his family. This proved to be the best decision I could have made because my mother wasn’t as stressed, which took a lot of pressure off of me. During the summer, I was determined to get two jobs and still make time to work hard to officially be the starter on my football team. I woke up everyday at 5 in the morning to go to the gym, get to the YMCA by 8 a.m. for my first job, and be at Trader Joe’s by 5 p.m. for my second job. I realized I had to take
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Harry from Harlem Matt Smokes ‘21
kids to line up. He gave the kids the run down saying that first they will first do drills, condition, and then scrimmage. Harry could not wait.
Chapter 1 The Tryout
Once conditioning and drills were over, it was time for scrimmages. Coach Smalls took notes about all the players but scrimmages are what will determine whether or not you make the team. During the scrimmage, Harry did not play well. His shot was off, his passing IQ was terrible, and his man was scoring on him every time down. Now was decision time. Coach Smalls named everyone who made the team. “The 12 players are James Rawlins, Chris Jenkins, Daquan Smith, John Richards, Jacob Lawler, Henry Felchinson, Avery Mansberg, Jonathan Raybens, Dylan Conner, Jake Peck, Fletcher Hansen, and Harry Chesters. Thank You” After hearing this Harry realized that his dream might be over.
The day had finally come. Tryouts for the freshman basketball team. Harry Christopher, a 14 year-old boy from Harlem, had been waiting for this day his whole life. He knew that his dream of making it to the NBA starts here. Harry had been working and training himself for this since the 7th grade. Ever since the death of his father and not having that male figure around the house, Harry had to face some tough roads. Even though his father is dead, all of his hard work in athletics and academics is dedicated to his father. It was 11:00 A.M. Harry’s mother told him to get his backpack together and meet her in the car. Once he was all done, Harry closed the door to his room and prayed. After praying, Harry locked the door to his house and met his mother in the car. While in the car, Harry listened to gospel music on his phone. Harry was a man of God. He loved going to church and he loved gospel music. After a 20 minute car ride, Harry’s mom dropped him off at St. Matthew’s, his school. As Harry got out the car, his mom hugged him and wished him good luck.
Chapter 3 The Timeline After being cut from freshman, Harry didn’t want to play basketball ever again but he got back up and tried again. 10th grade, he did not make JV. In 11th grade, Harry did not make JV or Varsity. Now its 12th grade. This was his only opportunity to make an impact to college scouts and prove his worth to a D1 school. Harry talked to Coach Smalls to see what he could do to make the team. Coach Smalls gave Harry a weird look and did not answer him. So Harry went home and thought about that weird response. Soon Harry realized what Coach Smalls told him. He told him to pretty much stop overthinking. So Harry went to work.
Chapter 2 The Results As Harry walked in, he saw about 3540 other kids in the gym. Now about 20-25 of those kids have never played basketball but that other 15-20 kids have that same dream as Harry, make it to the NBA. Coach Smalls told all of the Mind’s Eye
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Chapter 4 The Comeback
Chapter 6 The Big Game
Harry had been training himself day and night. Condition himself to run around the track and put work in the gym everyday. Once tryouts came, Harry dominated the competition. The point guard James Rawlins was being bullied by Harry. Harry made some of the greatest passes ever, his shot was on point, and James didn’t even get to put a shot up on him. When Coach Smalls made the roster, everyone on the freshman team was there except for James who was replaced by Harry. At the end of the tryout James said to Harry, “I will be back and I am going to make a fool out of you.” Harry replied, “I can’t wait.” James then stormed out of the gym.
St. Ray’s came out gunning. With an 8-0 lead to start the game, it wasn’t looking like this was going to be an easy win. Soon after, St. Matthew’s made a run of their own going on to take a 14-0 run and lead by six. This whole game was back and forth but the fourth quarter made the whole difference. Harry played his heart out, notching 16 points in the fourth. Right now the game is tied 76-76. 10 seconds remained on the clock. Harry caught the ball. He dribbled and hit a quick hesitation and a snatch back. Harry shot a deep, contested three with 1.9 seconds on the clock. As the buzzer sounded, the shot falls!!! The crowd went nuts because this is the first TLC for St. Matthews. Harry knew that his hard work paid off.
Chapter 5 The High School Season
Chapter 7 The Offer
Harry went on to have a phenomenal season. He averaged 28.9 points, 11.2 rebounds, and 11.9 assists. Although, his career was not over. Harry wants to lead the St. Matthew’s Mavericks to a TLC. They must win the three games they were gonna play to win a TLC. First they beat Roselle Catholic 79-45 and then went on to beat Teaneck 81-69. Now they had the biggest challenge of their life. They had to go up against the St. Raymond Sharks in the TLC championship. St. Raymond are the reigning champions for the last three years. Harry knew that this is what will cement his legacy in high school basketball.
After that high school season, Harry was given a lot of college offers. Kansas, Syracuse, Duke, Arizona, UCLA, Oregon, and Villanova. The one that stood out the most was Seton Hall. So on live television, he announced that he would be heading to Seton Hall University. Head Coach Kevin Willard introduced him to the team and those guys he would be playing with. The only catch was, college isn’t as easy as it seems. Chapter 8 The Season (Part 1) Harry didn’t think college was as hard as it looked. Go to class, pass all my tests
2017-18 Literary Magazine
and get to the NBA. Once the season came, Harry found out the truth. Days when he had basketball practice and a big test weren’t easy. It even made Harry do some things he did not want to do. After the season was over, Harry went on to average 14.9 points, 6.7 rebounds, and 8.3 assists. Now tonight is the night when Harry has to get ready for the NCAA tournament and his final. That night, Harry’s roommate Jim offered Harry some drugs. Jim said, “This will help you concentrate and calm yourself.” Being pushed Harry accepted, but he thought about it at first and realized not to take them. Harry realized that this decision may have just saved his career.
this was going to be one awesome matchup. Late in the game, the score was 79-74. UCLA was up. With two minutes left, Harry went to work. Bringing Seton Hall back to being up by 3. 45 seconds was left in the game and in 24 seconds, Crimson set up a play and drained a 3 to tie the game . With 25 seconds left, Kevin Willard called a timeout. He wanted Harry to get the ball, call an isolation and score a layup. Who would have thought that this would be accomplished but not in the same play. As Harry got the ball from the inbound, he called for an isolation but little did he know that as soon as he caught the ball, Crimson was right there. Crimson stole the ball and went on a fastbreak.You can see the UCLA bench going crazy as they believe they are going to take the lead. Little did they know that Harry would be there to block the shot. So as Crimson was going up for the layup, Harry blocked it, caught the rebound, ran down the court and scored a contested layup. Three seconds remained and Seton Hall decided to press. Crimson got the inbound and was forced to take a full court shot. The shot missed and Seton Hall won the game. The camera pointed at Harry showing Crimson a sign of respect. Now it’s on to the Final Four.
Chapter 8 The Season (Part 2) Later on, Harry went on to pass his final and get his training in for the NCAA tournament. Harry led Seton Hall to a 14-0 record that season and gave them the #1 spot in the east. Knocking off big conference schools South Carolina to get to the Round of 32, and then Xavier to get to the Sweet 16, and North Carolina (the defending champions) to get to the Elite Eight. Right now, Seton Hall’s Elite Eight matchup was the UCLA Bruins. UCLA was led by their star point guard Joseph Crimson. Crimson was in the vote to be Player of the Year. Crimson and Harry both had the same goal in mind, get to the Final Four.
Chapter 9 The Championship The Final Four matchup between Seton Hall and Arizona was not as competitive as people thought. Seton Hall went on to win 8869. Head Coach Latrell Massenburg was furious and quit his job as coach. Now it was time for the biggest game of Harry’s career. Seton Hall
The tip was up and Seton Hall won. Harry came down and made a ferocious dunk. The student section was hyped only for Crimson to come back. Harry then realized that
2017-18 Literary Magazine
vs. Duke. Duke was led by their point guard James Rawlins. As the game was about to begin, James mouthed to Harry, “I’m back.” Though the game was close, James was getting into Harry’s head. By the time the fourth quarter began, Harry only had 8 points. Then Harry went off notching 8 more points in the fourth quarter to bring Seton Hall back and tie the game. 30 seconds remained in the game and it was tied at 64 a piece. James came down and got the ball stolen from him by Harry, fouled him and got the and 1. 15 seconds are left and its 67-64. James comes back down and gets the ball stolen again by Harry. Harry scores a layup and turns the score to 69-64. With 5 seconds left James shoots and misses a halfcourt shot and Seton Hall wins the NCAA championship. Harry had a big grin on his face and you can see Rawlins come down and hug Harry and say to him good game. Seton Hall cut those nets down and celebrated their victory.
ESPN, Harry murmured to himself, “Who would have thought that I could make it this far?” n The Golden Break Oliver Shannon ‘20 The score is tied twelve frames to twelve frames. I have just taken the previous frame, that means I get to break in the decider. We have been playing for two hours and three minutes, and I have gone through four glasses of water. The sweat is beating down my face like a river in the mountains after a rainstorm. The referee announces, “time for the deciding frame, Oliver Shannon to break.” I amble my five-foot three-inch twig of a body up to the beautiful blue Diamond brand pool table. I glance over to the referee as he hands me the rack for the nine different balls that will scatter around the pool table in a few short moments. As he hands it to me I try to stammer out a “thank you” but my voice is raspy, and I only manage to croak, “thank.” I turn back to the table. I feel the flexible but durable plastic in my hand as I place it on the soft felt. I find the balls labeled one through nine and put the 1-ball in on the top of the rack.
Chapter 10 The Draft After working out with the 76ers, the Lakers, the Suns, and the Nets, Harry did not know where he might end up. In his mind, he would be blessed to play for any team. Three weeks after, Harry and his mother were in Brooklyn at the Barclays Center for the NBA Draft. Soon after, Adam Silver came out and was ready to say who the first pick to the Suns was. “With the first pick in the 2022 NBA draft, the Phoenix Suns select, Harry Christopher from Seton Hall University.” After putting on the hat, taking pictures with Adam Silver, and being interviewed by Ramona Shelburne from Mind’s Eye
For those who have never played 9-ball before, the rules are as follows. The player only uses the balls numbered one through nine. You always need to hit the lowest number ball on the table. Most of the time players will “run the table” by striking every ball into the pocket in numerical order. A player can also hit a combo shot as long as they hit the lowest number ball first. The first person to hit the 9-ball into a pocket wins. So one can
2017-18 Literary Magazine
win by either running the table or hitting a combo shot off the 9-ball forcing the 9-ball into a pocket. This also counts if you happen to hit the 9-ball into a pocket off the break.
lower my chin onto the cue, and I imagine the line in which I will strike the cue ball and make contact with the 1-ball. I pinpoint the line I want to take, and I strike the cue ball with everything I’ve got. I hear the intimate sound of the cue striking the cue ball. Pop! Shortly after the sound of balls scattering and crashing into each other rings in my ears for a second or two. Finally as I choose to look up I watch the balls slow down and everyone’s eyes stare at the 9-ball. The 9-ball was rolling to the left middle pocket. As I study it crawl along the felt, I sense time come to a halt and the sound of the crowd getting rowdy just blurs out. It was just my eyes and the 9-ball. I examined the trajectory of the 9-ball and thought to myself, “this has a chance of going in!” Finally, I regained hearing just soon enough to hear it dip into the plastic inside the pocket and roll out of sight. The crowd blew up. Never before had a player won a tournament off of a golden break. I am still watching the now empty pocket, and I realize what has just happened. I turn around, and my opponent is standing there with his hand extended to give me a handshake. I turn to face him and shake his hand. He tells me, “Congratulations and hell of a way to end it.” I return his comment with a, “thank you, this match could have gone either way.” He just winks at me and turns around to head back to the locker room. I watch as he disappears into the doorway and I can’t believe what has just occurred. n
Once I placed the 1-ball on the top of the rack I followed by lowering the 2-ball and the 3-ball right behind it forming a small triangle. I glance around the end of the pool table looking for the only striped ball, the 9-ball, and I place it directly behind the 2-ball and the 3-ball surrounding it with the 4 and 5-ball. I continue to locate the 6, 7, and 8-balls and put them behind the previous balls forming a small diamond of balls. Now the rack is set up as I have seen it millions of times before. The familiar shine from all the balls in the overhead light reminds me that the balls, in less than one minute, will be dispersed throughout the entire eight-foot length of the table and that there are billions of shots that I could choose. I walk around the left side of the table, and locate my chair. I take one last sip of the crisp ice water next to my seat and I grab my loyal break-cue. I step up to the opposite end of the balls and the referee hands me the shined iridescent cue ball. This time I can manage a full, “thank you” and I place it about six and a half inches from the right cushion. I can feel the thousands of eyes stifling down on me as this break could literally, “make it or break it” for me. I grip my cue loosely, feeling the sweat from my hands slipping a little on the cool plastic coating. I bend down to get a good sight of that one ball. I position myself in the stance that I could do in my sleep. The feeling of the comfortable rug shoots up my legs as I have my feet firmly on the ground and my right knee bent. I carefully
2017-18 Literary Magazine
The Unthinkable Joseph Kelly ‘20
anything in his whole life. He followed his daily routine with waking up and going to volunteer at the Soup kitchen. After the quick walk down the road from his apartment, he arrived at the building practically running inside to meet the man with the Yankees jersey. The man was inside, located right where he expected him to be. John anxiously approached this man looking forward to talking to him. “Excuse me, my name is John.” The man with the Yankees jersey replied “Hi, can I get you something to eat?” John explained to him that he was not a customer but rather a volunteer, who had spent ten years of his life volunteering and how he had a great appreciation for baseball. “Oh, okay. I have been playing for the Yankees for seven years now. Come and try out, you would make a perfect match for our team.” John yelled “Really! This is something that I’ve only dreamt about! What is your name?” The man in the jersey looked at him and said, “It does not matter who I am, just meet me at Yankee Stadium tomorrow afternoon.”
John never thought he could make it, never wanted or had much of anything in his life either. His expectations were very low and he had a negative outlook on most things. His passions consisted of reading, volunteering, and spending time with his family. However there was something that John did have, and only one thing he really had, a true appreciation for baseball. He spent countless hours watching, reading, and even studying this hobby of his. In fact, he visited baseball stadiums several times as each season came around. If there was one want, one goal that John wanted to accomplish, it was eventually becoming a major league baseball player. He didn’t know much of anyone. John spent his days and most of his time volunteering at a local soup kitchen down the road from his apartment. Everyday he would come in, never late, very passionate about the small responsibility that was his. His shift of volunteer started at ten in the morning and ended at two in the afternoon, five days a week and every week of the year. People did get to know him here, he had occasional waves but people only went as far to give a quick “hello”. John didn’t mind this however, he prefered to keep to himself since he didn’t like saying much anyway. As he was just finishing up his shift on a quiet Tuesday afternoon, he noticed something different, a man wearing a Yankees jersey. He recognized this famous person but it wasn’t very clear of who he was. John thought to himself, “I have to talk to this guy, I’ll do it tomorrow.”
Tomorrow afternoon had come and as John was approaching the large and overwhelming entrance to Yankee stadium. Who else would be standing there but the man with the Yankee jersey. He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that this person did not actually blow him off. The man with the jersey stood their and said, “Follow me, we are going to batting practice to see what you’re made of.” John did as he said, confused saying “okay?” As he walked onto the field he still didn’t feel sure if this was a prank or not. The man snapped “come on!” John replied, “What do you mean come on?” “Come on, here is your bat. Hit some of
Tomorrow came as quickly as ever for John. He had never acted so ecstatic to do Mind’s Eye
2017-18 Literary Magazine
these fastballs and if you do it well enough, I’ll put you on the team.” “Oh, okay.” John replied. The first of five balls were thrown and John whacked them out of the park, the second and third ball came at him and they went out of the park as well. John just stood there in awe, thinking to himself why was he this good when he never picked up a bat in his life. After ten straight balls that consistently went out of the park, he finally got a job offer with the Yankees.
I wore my clothes like an epidermis We cleanse ourselves from inpurness Helping all the kids made me glad Taught them how to multiply and add Most of the kids were not bad Teachers never got mad My quote from Matthew is from line 38 Being kind can open up Heaven’s gate Helping makes you feel great Don’t make your actions something you will hate
“Beep! Beep! Beep!” John’s loud alarm clock went off like it usually did every morning. He thought to himself what a great dream he had and started to feel depressed for himself, knowing that nothing that good could ever happen in someone’s life. After thinking about this, he got up and got ready for his daily routine at the soup kitchen. n
Teaching all these kids made me realize I never truly opened up my eyes The only limit are the blue skies That’s what it takes to become wise Keep rejecting Satin to win I told them if there’s evil, don’t give in We are all born with Original sin That’s how I compare this to Baptism
Service “Learn” Connor Mordecai ‘20 (Clear Throat) Sophomore Service at Holy Trinity School
Responsibility comes with a lot of care You can’t always do what you want anywhere You also need to be aware Your actions are what people will compare
Mom woke me up the first day Still half asleep but I heard her say C’mon Con let’s get ready for the day Didn’t wanna get up just wanted to hide away
I learned a lot from this event The teachers lay down the foundation like cement They made a huge indent(in my life) It pays off for all the time we have spent
Then we hurried in the caddy to my old school Brought back memories like the carpool We used to think that we were so cool All we used to do was fool
That’s my story about this In the end it was all a bliss Here is my thesis Take advantage of your time so you don’t miss
I must say that I was nervous Now I had to start my sophomore service
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Religion Service Song/Rap Liam McKiernan ‘20
Lyrics: That was that, We had fun In the sun, Almost done Baptism follows belief Help the kids do not grief All again on repeat Just with God, Never stop About to take it from the top Marcus Smart but ain’t no flop Chef Curry drive pick and pop Those new J’s I’m about to cop Boy yes you just got dropped Guess what I just stopped I’m done Man those kids had fun Should have seen the smile on their faces
Intro: Service Project for Mrs. Collura’s class. Esketit! Lyrics: Mom woke me up at 8:00 Got my shoes on out the door I was ready to rock Got in the Mercedes and rolled up my socks On my way to ACES ain’t other places Got there and said hi to the kids Made them breakfast in the kitchen orange juice with the lids Thought it would be bad because it would be wacky At first I was mad but then I was happy I guess it was because my day was kinda crappy But then I had fun like the robot named Chappie We went on the courts to ball up The gym teacher John was like yo what’s up We played a lot of games The kids felt like Lebron James Running fast flying planes We played football Always yelled move the chains
Service Project Poem Oliver Shannon ‘20 School is out which means time to sleep in! At least until ten or eleven every day. Then time to practice sports and maybe go to work. But there is another duty dwelling within. “Hey man, wanna chill today?” “Of course” “Come to my house and we will go to the beach.” “Sounds good, it’s my off day.”
Quote Improv: NOT SCRIPTED So the quote i chose from Matthew 25 was verse 36, “I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me,” this means a lot to me and it went along with what i was doing with my community service with the kids. Just having a good time, helping them out, being there when they needed me. So yeah. Let’s go!
Then comes tomorrow Just another summer day The cliche summer heat and melancholy Overwhelms myself with sorrow.
2017-18 Literary Magazine
At mass on Sunday, listening to the gospel, boredom is on the brink I hear the words of Matthew “For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat” “I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink”
On the way home I started to think “Wow, I really made some of those kid’s days.” I thought about how refreshing it was to do good for another person. Almost like baptism, at a simple sink. I really love teaching and being able to educate young minds. As I have been taught, “Always learn and always strive to inspire others to learn.” All in all, I really love helping others find what binds, Binds them to God and each other.
“I needed clothes and you clothed me” “I was sick and you looked after me” “I was in prison and you came to visit me” Service towards others, ahh now I see. Once mass concluded I called the principal at my middle school. I asked her, “is the ‘arts and beats’ camp going on this summer?” She replied with an exciting, “indeed it is” Now saying no to that, that would be cruel.
Texas Immersion Trip 2018 Aidan Shea ‘19 The Texas Immersion trip was an eye opening experience. Along with 5 other ND students and 2 teachers, we had a fun week of helping those in need, absorbing the culture of Texas and becoming part Texan. On the trip we worked at the San Antonio food bank, ridding the fields of weeds and allowing the plants to grow so someday they can help feed a family in need. The trip was one that I will always remember and cherish as one of my favorite ND moments. n
I arrive on that Monday, at nine ante meridian I meet the kids and they split into groups I go to the music room and wait for them to arrive They storm in like enthusiastic Olympians. I spend the day, laughing and having fun. The kids also learned a lot about music. The day ends and I say “goodbye” I look at everything and think, “look at all I’ve done.”
Texas Service Immersion Trip - Aiden Shea ‘19
2017-18 Literary Magazine
European History is an elective course at ND taught by Mrs. LaMonaca. Students are tasked with studying and recreating a significant work of art or invention from the periods of history covered in the course. Below are some of the various recreations made by students in the course.
European History Project: Libyan Sibyl, Sistine Chapel, Digital Drawing Gianmichel Di Gangi ‘20
European History Project: Tomb of Pope Julius II, Paper and Foam Board Michael Maher ‘20
European History Project: Recreation of the Pieta, Clay Roy Sebas ‘20
European History Project: Printing Press Thomas Scott ‘18, Roy Sebas ‘20 and Brendan Clerkin ‘20
2017-18 Literary Magazine
Notre Dame High School One Notre Dame Way â€¢ West Haven CT 06516 www.NotreDameHS.com 2018
The student Literary Magazine created by Notre Dame High School in West Haven.