eunoia | Spring 2017

eunoia PACT Charter | Volume 2 | Issue 2 | Spring 2017

eunoia V o lume 2 | Issue 2 | Spr i ng 2017

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Creative Staff Editors Christal Ruppert

Cover Art: Carissa Edgington. Flower. Watercolor.

eunoia is the literary journal of the language arts department at PACT Charter School.

Ramsey, Minnesota

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Table of Contents Poetry Rain | Tamara Hageman ………………………………….………..…..6 Many in One | Victoria Heiberg……….. ……………………..………10 Old Soul, Modern World | Victoria Heiberg………………...……...19 Beauty in the Beast | Madelyn Vooge…………..………….……….….21 Sunshine | Maria Barbato ……………………………………………...22

Fiction Floaters | Belle Narragon …………...………………………………..12

Personal Essay 21 | Shania Holland ………………...……………………...…………..9

Visual Art Dreams | Sidney Plonske …………………………...…………………..7 Calla Lily | Evelina Belonovich ………..…………………………..…...8 Surprised | Anonymous ……………………………..………….……...11 Adventure | Sierra Brumm …………………….……………………….18 Eye | Evelina Belonovich ………………………………………….…..20 Merle Dachshund | Hannah Breitzmann ………………...…….……...23

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Rain Tamara Hageman Poem I once tried to understand the meaning of rain; I could never figure out the feeling that the weather’s showers would bring and the numbness that I felt after it had come and gone; time after time, it made me feel as though time could stand still when the droplets fell from the sky and my problems could be washed away as I stared out the window and watched as the earth had been renewed by this gift from the clouds; when I was a child I knew that rain had been a gift and when it came it had no intention of stopping, as if someone was smiling from above, lost in the clouds, laughing as the earth got another second chance from the gentle drops; many don’t realize that rain and everything that it brings with it is a lot like people; the strikes of thunder and lightening are that of one in a dark time; the renewing drops are like the tears that we cry in both happy and sad times; the puddles are that of our own reflection, just like the one that we see everyday in the mirror, except the reflection that we see when we look in the puddle is different from that of what the puddle sees when it looks back up at us; the puddle sees the laughter and smiles and a carefree you and is grateful of our friend the rain; when I was younger, I could never fathom why people that saw their reflection in the puddles couldn’t see the same carefree reflection every time that they looked in a mirror and I found myself crying sad drops of rain because people are in fact a lot like rain and everything that it brings with it, because people in life will come and go just like the showers that the rain will bring the earth and they will never know how much beauty that they bring to us.

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Dreams Sidney Plonkse Drawing

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Calla Lily Evelina Belonovich Drawing

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21 Shania Holland Personal Essay

21 bullets stronger than you’d think.

This is how we honor him, with power and grace. I remember his eyes and how they'd light up his face, and how he’d smile when his favorite songs would play. He knew every word from beginning to end, he knew me just the same. There isn’t one thing to his beautiful soul that I could say I hate. He knew me better than his favorite songs from Zeppelin to Floyd every word I’d ever say. I bet he could repeat quite a few.

He’s the one who truly knew. Here I am fighting a losing battle with grief I hear him say, “You’re stronger than you think.” I know he’d say so but he's at the king's feet. He doesn't know fear anymore or pain at that and I thank the Lord every day that he is finally home. He was tired and ready.

In the paper it said his greatest accomplishment was being a father. I’d say they were right.

He never gave up on me; he never failed me. As many times as we’d fight he always had my back and would willingly give me his life.

21 bullets and so many more memories; what an honor it is to be the one to have called him my dad.

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Many in One Victoria Heiberg Poem

I am an inventor, creating a new set and flow of words I am an architect, constructing a house worth reading I am a gardener, planting seeds of words and watching them grow to beauty I am a lawyer, arguing my case that all art is unique and beautiful I am a philosopher, forming new ideas and keeping an open mind artistically I am a firefighter, fighting the fires of pain and learning to handle heat I am a flight attendant, caring for others and traveling into their shoes I am a doctor, reaching out and doing what I can for the sick Most importantly, I am a writer I am.

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Surprise Anonymous Drawing

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Floaters Belle Narragon Fiction

I smiled as my weight was lifted off the ground, the air rushing up to meet me, tangling my hair in loops and swirls as the propellers guided me upwards, like a kite on a string.

Why would anybody want to travel by foot? It doesn’t make sense, especially after riding these puppies, soaring through the air at a speed faster than walking, faster than running.

When you ride with these, you go somewhere that’s completely indescribable. It’s amazing how one flick of a switch can take your problems and throw them out the window faster than you can say “On.” I relaxed my entire body, letting the feeling of the wind on my face and the speed of the boots as they propelled me forward take me away. I let myself relax as I enter what some like to call The Serene. Probably because of the way it brought complete peace to those who flew with the boots. I never thought I’d use the term; I thought I’d be like the other ninety-two percent of Aslasine, the other ninety-two percent that felt nothing at all when they flew, but I guess not. The first time I slipped the boots on at the age of ten, I felt a spark ignite within me, and like a lot of other things I'd felt while using the boots, it was amazing. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before, and in that moment, I knew that I’d never be the same again, I’d never be a ninety-two percent.

Part of being not being a ninety-two percent sucks, though, I’ll be honest. There are special rules that apply to us, and unlike the others, we can’t slip through them. The rules on our side are way stricter than the rules on their side, and I had to accept that, no matter how much I hated it.

They had reasons, though, The government up here thought we were a danger to society. They thought we’d hurt others or twist their thoughts from the carefully-planted lies and manipulations that the government fed them every day through the JumboTrons hovering over the cities in clumps like the invisible atoms that made up the world.

An unusual sound brought me out of the serene and back to life as it was. I flicked a switch on the side seam of my boot, the sound of the engine shifting to form a new position music to my ears.

I looked out into the distance, beyond the hologram of mountains and nature and to the one building that centered it all. The Capital Building; the one and only place where the people of Aslasine weren’t allowed to go. I furrowed my brow in confusion, flicked the switch again, and caused the boots to shift gear before I headed down to the city with the small amount of gas that my 12

boots still contained deep within.

As I neared the city, I took in the sights, as usual. I was a sight-seer. I loved to look around and take everything in. It was one of the very few things that calmed me these days, one of the only things that made me feel safe in a world with complete government control. More like mind control.

People like me had no voice here. We were novices; we were the unwanted. We were the people that nobody bothered to ask opinions of because we were the eight percent, the ones that didn’t matter in a world full of ninety-two's.

I passed tree after sham tree, until finally, the Capitol came into view, standing tall against the sun, the glass shimmering like a thousand stars.

A grin spread across my face like wildfire as I passed above the Ruby sector, grazing above all of my favorite places. The Skate Park, the Cluster. I watched as tons of people zoomed across the ramps, and in, out and under the pipes of the Cluster, smiling as I stared down, fantasizing about doing it myself. It was fun things like that that kept people like us in shape, for when they needed us.

They, of course, being the government. They relied on us to do their dirty work, and we relied on them for the cash. The government was the only place that allowed us employment. Everyone else in town was too afraid of the unknown to let people like us work for them. I don’t blame them, of course. The government had been feeding them lies since the day the city was built. They didn’t have minds of their own when it comes to topics like this. Topics like us.

A moat separated us from the city, from the ninety-two percents. I brought up my gaze to the tower once more, making it my mission not to get distracted again by the small details.

I kicked up the speed count on my right boot, then on my left, zooming by house after house in a blur as I sped up the process, of what would’ve taken a few minutes, to taking half the time.

Showing a smile that spread across my face like wildfire, I came to a stop at the base of the tower.

I turned off the engine hidden deep under the leather of my boots, the thrusters on both melting in with the boot itself, becoming one, and disappearing.

I strolled up the winding, smooth gray path set before the towering building in front of me, a nervous and frisky smile playing on my lips.

I reached the door in a matter of minutes, pulling out my ID for clearance so that if I, a floater, get caught with the others, I won’t get arrested. Which would be the common protocol for anyone who entered without an ID. I walked past the security guard in his station, pausing to give him a smile and some small talk before going up to fulfill my mission.

I lifted up a hand to greet him with a wave, “Abe! How’s the family?” I asked him with a bright 13

smile. We’d known each other for years, since my mother met him and his family at the city’s annual Ceremony for the aging, the one that’s mandatory, even for us.

He smiled and gave a hearty laugh as he turned his head.

“Ever!” He reached out his arms as if to hug me, which we both know he couldn’t, being sealed behind glass, or what looked like it to me. I never bothered to ask, because it didn’t pique my interest as much as other things in the building did.

I gave him a fake hug, which was as much as I could do. He seemed happy by the gesture, reaching under the desk to search for something. He came back up holding in his hand a badge of clearance, with a chocolate chip cookie just small enough to fit by under it.

I smiled and gave him a wink as if to thank him. He winked back and pushed the button to allow me through the gates and into the capitol.

I strolled through the hallways, confident as ever. Why? I wasn’t sure. But I was and I couldn’t complain.

I stopped at the elevator. I was due to head up to the seventh floor and was currently in the first.

This was going to take awhile.

Sighing, I hovered my hand over the hologram button, asking it to come down so that I could do the exact opposite when I actually got on. I chuckled to myself at the thought.

In a matter of seconds, the elevator arrived. Thank God… I thought to myself as I looked at the doors, willing them to open with my mind.

It took another few seconds but it did open, so I really couldn’t complain much. I needed to be not used to getting everything I want at the second I wanted it.

Sighing, I boarded the elevator, my shoes echoing off of the metal walls with each step I took. I was ready for this. I was ready.

Or, at least, that was what I told myself. I didn’t believe it completely, but I tried very hard to convince myself over the years leading up to this exact moment, my moment.

I hovered another hand over the up button, shortly afterward commanding the seventh floor. It took a minute to load, but the second it did, it sped up the long tunnel that held it, chained to the wall like a bad dog.

I smiled with anticipation, my first mission drawing nearer by the second as I stood still. It went up floor by floor, carefully making sure it didn’t miss anybody trying to get off.

I admired the newfound technology in everything around me. A year ago, we didn’t have this; the ability to hover our hands over something in order to command to a machine with our thoughts, 14

willing them to accomplish our needs in a matter of seconds. It was simply breathtaking how quickly we managed to evolve our technology and everything around us. A wave of emotions I couldn’t describe washed over me in a desperate attempt to understand.

A hollow beep came from the elevator, taking me out of my thoughts and yanking me back to the real world, and what was about to happen to me. It was my turn.

The elevator doors opened seconds later, revealing the layout of the seventh floor. The floor itself was surprisingly empty, more than I’d imagined in my head. Off to the side, there was a dull colored office desk, with a woman who looked to be bored out of her mind sitting there, a pen in hand, and filing paperwork as she stared blankly at the computer screen. There was a small waiting area a few inches away, consisting of two moderately bright couches, a table placing space between the seats, and a coffee mug that was old and moldy sitting on a coaster, in need of a very good wash.

I cringed at the smell it brought to the room, bitter and musky.

I walked over to the desk nervously, hands folded behind my back and glancing around to make sure I wasn’t followed, just like they taught me when I was younger.

The lady looked up from her computer screen, placing the pen softly on top of the stack of papers, completely silent as she lifted her glasses off the bridge of her nose and brought them down a few inches, to add some kind of attitude.

I smiled softly. “I….um….I’m here to see the Director…” I whispered, feeling like the silence was needed to keep the room together like if I talked at just the right volume, I’d shatter the room and it would collapse into a pile of glass.

I took a nervous breath as I waited for her to answer.

She sighed for a few seconds, letting me know again how tired and bored she was. I smiled brightly again, thinking it might help lift her clearly down spirits.

She looked up at me with an expression that screamed leave me alone. I shifted my gaze to the floor to gather myself, to take a breath and force myself not to lash out at her like I so badly wanted to. Get a grip…

When I looked back up, I was ready to face her with a bright attitude, one that wouldn’t get me kicked out. I smiled my cheeriest smile and folded my hands over my lap.

“I need to see the Director...” I looked at her name tag that hung from her blazer pocket, “...Pam.” I smiled again, trying my very hardest to be happy and cheerful.

She looked down to the papers held and trapped to her clipboard, smacking her lips together in boredom as she read, and I waited with my last ounce of patience, hoping it would last through this and help me enter the Director’s office.

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She looked up and smiled. “Everlyn Rhyes?” she asked me with a raspy, husky voice like she hadn’t had enough to drink. I nodded in approval.

She smiled. “The Director will see you shortly. Have a seat.” She gestured to the couches lazily and pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose once more, focusing on her computer screen, clicking what seemed like every few seconds.

I smiled and nodded, turning around and steered myself in the direction of the twin couches. with the small wood table, glass surrounded in an oak frame, dropping whatever hint of a smile there was instant.

I wasn’t a patient person, which, when paired with the fact that I’m a floater, really downs my case.

It makes me look exactly like what the government forces everyone else to believe. I’m the spitting image of one of “them.”

I plopped down in the chair, exhausted from the day’s work and let out a long sigh as I relaxed, letting my body mold into the form of the couch, letting all of my stresses flow out with it.

I waited by the unwashed and very unpleasant smelling coffee mug, waiting and waiting for the second when the Director would call me in for my first mission.

It was pretty awesome to know that I could change the world, with a single file. A single piece of paper given to me could change the course of Aslasine’s history forever.

My adrenaline rose, bringing my spirits up with it. I looked at the door nervously. At any moment, that door could open and change my life.

I forced myself to take a deep breath, relaxing against the couch once more as I focus my gaze on the beige couch in front of me, melting into its pale color and imagining different scenarios that would go down in the office just down the hall.

Like magic, my name was called by a woman that, judging by her voice, was in her mid- to latetwenties.

“Everlyn Rhyes, the Director will see you now,” she said with the same raspy voice that she had before, her words slower than ever.

I stood and strolled down the hall nervously, keeping my arms at my sides as I made my way into the Director’s office. In the early leadership books, he would be known to the citizens as a ‘President’. Shrugging as the random piece of information pops into my head, I kept my stride steady and eventually, I ended up in the Director’s office, the office I’d always dreamed of, the one my life depended on, in a sense.

I smiled at the young woman, who shut the door silently, and I looked forward, to face the Director himself. He looked young, but not that young. Mid-thirties I guessed silently with a small nod.

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The Director turned to face me. He had a sharp jawline, his eyes chocolate brown and his complexion pale. I didn’t expect anything less. His job was very stressful, and it was said that he was appointed at the youthful age of twenty-five. I looked closer, finding just then a small and growing beard, it seemed recent.

I shrugged and shook my head slightly, bringing me back to the office. I looked around. The office itself was a standard office, desk in the center of the room, chairs to sit in right in front, but pushed back slightly, to provide room and space for the residents, and a window behind the desk, filtering in the light of day, the sun shining brightly.

I looked to the corner of the room, where a chair was hidden, and it wasn’t empty like I’d assumed it would be. There was a boy sitting in the chair, casually, like he had no desire to be here. We locked eyes for a split second before I returned my focus to more important matters, striding over to the chairs that sat before the desk, sitting before the Director himself.

He smiled slyly at me, sitting down himself and folding his hands in front of him on the desk, looking into my eyes with interest like no other.

I smiled back awkwardly, looking around the room as the force of his gaze bore into me, weighing me down with intensity.

He smiled at me. “I can only assume you know why you’ve been summoned,” he concluded with a light sigh, moving his gaze to rest on the boy in the corner.

Summoned was an ugly word. It said that he had complete control over me, and even though I listened to everything he said, he had nothing on me. I listened to him out of the will of the country, what I’d do for the people. Not because he had dirt on me, control over my every move. He had nothing on me. Not now, not ever.

I nodded and smiled, not daring to say a word.

He nodded back, making an awkward silence hang between us.

Smiling, he spoke up again. “It’s time for your first mission,” he tells me with a sly smile and a fire burning in his eyes.

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Adventure Sierra Brumm Digital Media

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Old Soul, Modern World Victoria Heiberg Poem

Just another old soul from the past, Put in this decade, it won’t last Little interest in current things, a modern disease Reclusive outcast in the breeze Doesn’t fit in and hides itself Left its social life on a shelf The sound of silence echoes Hanging by a thread of life but won’t let go It just keeps living and roams the halls And if life was a walk, it’s working hard to just crawl All around, there’s empty noise And life’s gifts seem hard to enjoy As every day passes, it is filled with dread And is strongly convinced that it is better off dead Happiness is what it feigns To hide its insecurities and pains But it’s just enough, not too much Finds another unhealthy crutch It is too late, but it never seems to arrive And the current family is a broken 4 or 5 Seems like most people are too blind To see this spirit fight to be alive

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Eye Evelina Belonovich Drawing

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Beauty in the Beast Madelyn Vooge Poem

Your outer appearance may come off as brooding to others They may part when you walk by They may cower in your presence But, they, they have not looked into your eyes They have not seen the calm and gentle soul hidden from sight They have seen your hard outer shell that tries to hide the soul That outer shell has one weakness Those eyes Glimmering, glowing, gleaming Those beautiful pale, blue eyes Shining as bright as the north star The window The window that the brood is not in The window where the light shines through The gentle light of those pale, blue eyes

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Sunshine Maria Barbato Poem

Sunshine brings fun times Sunshine can bring the worst times Or the sunshine can bring the best times in the world Sunshine can cry like the rain that brings flowers to life Sunshine can have the brightest smile and brighten up your life But sometimes it gets hurt and wants to run away Some want to hurt the sunshine and tuck it away The sunshine is a gentle touch That no one knows Because they want it gone from them as if it were a burden That sunshine is a little baby just waiting to be saved By someone who calls them by name Someone who doesn’t call them a burden But someone who will love them Someone who will give them a name and take away the pain Will you be the one to call this little one by name

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Merle Dachshund Hannah Breitzmann Painting

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Contributor’s Notes

Sierra Brumm likes video games.

Sidney Plonske is a freshman in college. Don't worry, that isn't a typo. She just wishes she was a freshman in college, not in high-school because then she is that much closer to being done with all school.

As you can tell, Sidney loves summer, and hates sitting in a chair for seven hours, even though that's all she does at home anyway because she is lazy.

Belle Narragon is a freshman at PACT and can usually be found at the library, picking up more than a few books, which is what sparked her interest in writing. She can be found almost any day of the week devouring a good book, drawing or writing to her heart’s content.

Hannah Breitzmann is senior at PACT whose interests include reading, drawing, and riding horses. She also loves Jesus and enjoys playing with dogs as well.

Tamara Hageman is a freshman at PACT that likes to right poems about rain. Tamara writes tales of the drops because she is from California and didn't know what rain was before she moved to Minnesota, according to her peers. Enough said.

Victoria Heiberg is a junior at PACT and loves Language Arts and Art with a burning passion. She loves listening to music, aesthetics, watching YouTube videos, and writing. J.K. Rowling and Kurt Cobain inspired her to write. She quite quirky and hopes you enjoy this spring's issue of Eunioa.

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Carissa Edgington is in 8th grade and when she isn't writing she's probably somewhere looking up prompts or character ideas. She also sometimes likes to draw with oil pastels and text friends.

Maria Barbato is a freshman and loves to take her dog for a walk and read! The book that she is reading right now is The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien.

Evelina Belonovich is a freshman at PACT and has a very artistic and creative mind. She is known for always laughing with her friends and she loves to spend time with friends and family.

Shania Holland is an 11th grader who grew up in the south and less than a year ago decided to move to Minnesota. She enjoys writing and spending time with her dog and doing missionary work with her church, Church of Hope. She is very loved by all her friends and brings a smile to everyone's face. Shania sees writing as an outlet that helps her express her feelings in better words easier to understand. She hopes to one day become a missionary and incorporate writing into the healing of many people.

Madelyn Vooge is a junior at PACT. She has trouble in school, but tries her very hardest to keep her grades up, while in the meantime writing coolio poems and short stories (and watching Supernatural).

She has five siblings and they interfere with her creativeness. They must be stopped. She hopes you don't think her poems are bad.

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Belle Narragon Carissa Edgington Maria Barbato Sidney Plonske Tamara Hageman Evelina Belonovich Madelyn Vooge Shania Holland Hannah Breitzmann Victoria Heiberg Sierra Brumm

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