Pangaea 2015

PA N G A E A Literary and Arts Magazine

FA L L I S S U E

South Louisiana Community College Department of English

2015

Cover Art by: Kimberly Clement Jefferson “Bridge�

CONTENT

01 | Visual Art

02 | Fiction

03 | Poetry

04 | Other

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Dear Readers, Welcome to Pangaea Literary Magazine’s updated 2015 issue. We know that at SLCC we have an array of talent and creativity and we are very happy to be able to showcase that in the 2015 updated issue. The above Image is “turtle” by Kimberly Clement Jefferson who is also the winner of the Cover Photograph.

FA L L

2015

Untitled

Visual art by A m a n d a E s t r a d a

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LAKE

Visual art by K i m b e r l y C l e m e n t J e f f e r s o n

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Wondering Hearts I look for you everywhere I go.

I see you in the sunshine that bounces off my soul.

I’ve built my castle, but you haven’t come home.

As always, my heart will roam.

My heart will look for you, but my eyes will look away With the sight of a brand new day, will my pain go astray?

I will always want you, seeking you to no avail, We used to be happy, why couldn’t I be, everything you wanted to see?

I hear you in the wind that passes me

I’m not her, but maybe it’s me.

I feel you in the breeze

I’m not perfect, but why would you want that from me?

The trees move back in forth, and I look to see,

I’m everything you needed and more

But it’s not you, just another whitetee I thought I could be, everything you wanted me to be But I fell short, now my castle is a fort

I left your flowers dying by my door When you think of me, think of what I used to see, In you and in me.

Think of me, I used to be free Now I’m trapped and in a war Your flowers are still lying beside my

Poetry by C a s s i d y A r c e n a u x

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Belle

Visual art by R o b b y D a d s o n

Trees

Visual art by C h e l s i e T r a h a n

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Alyaah

Visual art by B r u c e M a y o

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Untitled Duck, Doe, Dove, Deer, Quail Louisiana Sportsman Hunting is so fun Poetry by B r o o k e O r d o g n e

Success in Breaths You walked like a champion, and cared like a friend Strode into the arena like you owned it You’re not a have not, but a have done.

You’re a tree of success, and you win with every breath Head on your shoulders, feet

The future is clay, for you and only you to mold I know that it will be bold There is no real finish line in life, But we all run our own races Take your successes with breaths of appreciation Challenge your mind and become the greatness that’s inside you You’re not just a friend, but a brother, an inspiration

Poetry by C a s s i d y A r c e n a u x

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Hope Snow kissed mountain tops
 and shivering flowers on
 December mornings.

Poetry by M a r y W o o d s o n

Visual art by B r u c e M a y o

Rosalina vs Elsa Change Grow to make a change Be happy and successful Never rearrange!

Poetry by H a r l e n e D e f i l s

Visual art by R o b b y D a d s o n

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Leaves

Visual art by K i m b e r l y C l e m e n t J e f f e r s o n

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Loss Discovered The sun was shining on a brand new

and forth.

swing set in the backyard. Jemima

For hours, it seemed, they played

had just gotten back home from

soccer with a flat ball and pretended

school and was anxious to play. She

dinosaurs were taking over the world.

ran over to Rene’s house just down

Jemima was in the middle of protecting

the road to invite her best friend over for “tea” and a swing. Her friend rode her bike while Jemima walked on the sidewalk. She never mastered the art of bike-riding and preferred to keep a distance from the cursed contraption. They took the shortcut

Rene from the terrible tyrannosaurus rex when her mother appeared at the back door of the house.

“Jemima, sweetie. Come here, please,” her mother called out.

Jemima had never seen that look her

to the backyard instead of tracking

mother’s face and it confused her.

dirt and bike through the house.

“Yes, Momma?

“Hey, look what I can do.” Jemima

“Grandma Ruth passed away this

did a flip in the seat of her swing that

morning.” Jemima stood there, frozen

would have rewarded her with a

in place, eyes staring back at her

scolding from her mother if she saw

mother. She said nothing as she walked

it. “That’s cool,” said Rene as she

past her

stood on her swing, rocking back Fiction by K a y l a B a u e r l e

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Loss Discovered her mother and into the old brick

her house, the perfume bottles she

house. She walked passed the

played with on the antique vanity, the

goldfish all gathered around the top

hugs and kisses she should have

of the tank, waiting for food to be

treasured more, were only a few of those

dropped. She bumped up against it

precious memories.

and water splashed onto the

by before Jemima’s tears finally dried

multicolored carpet. Jemima made

up. She picked herself up off the floor

her way down the hall to her

and walked to the living room where her

bedroom door. She looked at the

mom was, sitting in a big chair with a

pictures she tore out of magazines,

photo album in her hands.“Hey, Sweetie.

taped to the door. As she grabbed the

How are you doing?” “Where’s Rene?”

doorknob a little hiccup escaped her

“I sent her home.” “Ok.” Jemima walked

throat. Hurriedly, she opened the

over to her mother, whose arms were

door and laid down on her back in

outstretched, ready for a welcoming

the middle of the floor, staring at the

embrace. She crawled onto her lap and

ceiling. Then the tears started to fall.

rested her head on her mother’s shoulder

No sobs, just a flow of memories. A

as they both looked through the alum

mop doll her grandmother made for

filled with pictures of the mother and

all the kids to enjoy while staying at

grandmother. “I was only eight at the

Fiction by

An eternity went

Kayla Bauerle

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(Continued )Loss Discovered time. I had only heard of death but never experienced it for myself. I didn’t like it. But I eventually accepted it.”

“Thank you, Miss Jemima. How long will I be sad?”

“Oh, Olivia. I can’t answer that. That is something you’ll have to figure out on your own. But I will always be here for you.”

Fiction by K a y l a B a u e r l e

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Visual art by A m a n d a E s t r a d a

Untitled . The semester is going all the way down to the wire. All the way to end students must be strong with the fire and desire. . William Shakespeare is great acting itch, but dealing with his play and college algebra at the same time is a bitch. . Get ready for the slam hard on test day, because I'm about to go ham on this final exam! . Failure is easy to receive, later on in life it's easy not to achieve. . Dealing with difficulties in life we get fed up, and even though we fed up, we have to keep our head up.

Poetry by T o d r a s S a m

Perfect Shot

Visual art by K i m b e r l y C l e m e n t J e f f e r s o n

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Siblings I know that you don’t understand when I cry sometimes, Or cut myself open to see my insides.

But, you aren’t just my brother, you’re my sibling.

Friend, supporter and dreamer, those words go hand in hand.

I know u don’t understand why I snap and scream, I’m sorry for being so mean.

You’re brave, and kind, eyes open towards the sky.

I know that you’ll never see what I see inside you.

You’re not just my brother, you’re my sibling, You’re all I’ve got, when our parents go, We’re the leaves of what they’ve got to show.

Your 17 today.

My wish for you, is to enjoy the little things and Take life’s curve balls with ease and opportunity.

I love u Mitchell, my sibling.

Poetry by C a s s i d y A r s e n a u x

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Reflections of Conformity When I look in the mirror, I see hardened eyes filled with so much grudge So much pain engulfing an ever flowing love.

Clashing like rivers of different worlds.

Floating in space, like a lost little girl.

Desperate to connect to the person staring back.

A smile so happy hiding so much sad.

What are you so angry about?

Conquered by fears, a coward to doubt.

I scream to myself.

Too weak to move past it, too proud to ask for help.

Skin that flakes in an oily based face, I stare into this woman full of distaste.

If the beauty were there, wouldn’t I see it?

How can anyone else, when I can’t even believe it.

Isn’t there much more to this endless twist of life, than bargain prices and mediocre housewives?

To explore this plane and to intertwine, with others and their worlds even if in the shortest ticks of time I can no longer recognize this face, as it has begun to be replaced by someone other than me.

These tiny shards of glass may have once resembled something close to what other people see.

When conforming is the only feeling that feels wholesome and right, it’s the magical answer to help you close your eyes, after all it’s out of mind when it’s out of sight.

We can all ignore this big elephant in the room when taking chances with life and death because we'd rather be too late than too soon.

Poetry by A d r i e n n e A d a m s

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Haiku The crystal water Sitting In the lush green grass Fluffy cotton clouds Poetry by N i c h o l a s R o b e r t s o n

Untitled

Visual art by T o r i a n t a e L a n d r y

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A Beach Trip to Remember In the summer of two thousand two I moved to Lafayette from Dallas, Texas and met my dad and my Louisiana family for the very first time. This was a life changing experience for me in so many ways because it was when I got to know my family and spend time with them. My family always went to the beach every summer for their traditional beach vacation, and this summer I was to go to the beach for the very first time. I had never seen a beach before so I was extremely excited about going. Not only was this going to be a fun trip for me but I would get to spend the entire week getting to know my dad and all of my Louisiana family. My dad described the beach as the biggest sand box and the biggest swimming pool I had ever seen. I really didn't know what to expect, so I was very eager to get there.

The drive down seem to take forever.

When we finally arrived, my dad took my hand and together we ran to the beach so I could see what it looked like. I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the clear blue water and the shimmering white sand. I stood and watched in awe as the others unpacked and settled in. As soon as I got my swim suit on, my dad and I made a mad dash for the beach. The hot sand burned my little feet and it just seem to squish through my toes.

I spent the entire afternoon running through the waves and kicking holes in the wet sand. My dad was overjoyed to see the excitement on my face. The next day my cousins and I made sand castles and dug around for sea shells. I decided to get real creative with my sand castle and add turrets and a moat all the way around. Much to my disappointment, the high waves soon washed all my hard work away.

Fiction by K e l c i G u i d r y

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A Beach Trip to Remember Lesson learned, never put all your hard work close to the ocean.

A few days after our arrival I decided to help and take out the trash. I ended up pulling the fire alarm instead of the trash shoot.

Bells started ringing and a loud voice came on over the speakers telling everyone to vacate their condominiums. My My dad realized what I had done and called the front desk and explained the situation. Together we then went down to the main lobby to apologize, and to my amazement a fire truck was already parked outside. I was so scared. I thought I was in trouble, but the fireman lifted me up and let me sit next to him in the fire truck. Another lesson learned that day; ask for help if you are unsure of something. I will always have fond memories of that trip, not only

because it was my first time to be on a beach, but because I got to spend time with my dad and my new family.

In spite of traveling to many places since then, the beach remains my favorite summer vacation. I will forever associate the beach with family time.

Untitled

Visual art by To r i a n t a e L a n d r y

Fiction by K e l c i G u i d r y

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and she and she

so he, swept them away, rubbish

gonna change the world she was. little body, big dreams, bigger talent

how. dare. she. ... enraged he was. dream bigger, reach higher, be more

so he, like a giant syringe

than he

a long draw, the first leech he was.

so she

little swagger, cunning diction, prima

guilted, bullied, robbed she was. the

donna

dreams, the talents, the trust

so she

so he, gluttonous, thrashing, destroying

tender, trusting, wanting she was. smitten, taken, deceived

vexed, if not bleeding the soul he was. devouring the raw, wounded, virgin spirit

so he, like a tiger pouncing his prey so she ravaging, until reaching the heart he

remembering, excavating, fortifying she

was. one claw, one rip, one dream at a

was.

time

forbidding the pillage of the lion-heart

so she

beating within her breast

blinded, yielding, love-struck she was.

so he, frantically wielding wildly

curtsied, toppling out all those big dreams Poetry B a m b i L y n n P a n a g i o t i s

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and she (continued) failing with each swipe he was. fiercely slinging words, intimidation,

pathetic, pitiable, slyly leering his next

indifference

innocent prey he was. destroying the weak, his only means of manhood

so she girding up her loins she was. strapping on courage, corseting resilience, edifying, believing

so she wiser, stronger, braver she was. gathering up all those big dreams, bigger

so he, watching in disbelief, seething

talent

he, he, he who never took ‘no.’

so he, first fight lost, arrogant imp,

mama’s boy, shamed, slapped,

bruised ego

defeated so she saddened yet determined she was. waving, salt streaked cheeks so he, enraged, smug, turning on his heals

looking back only to sling stones he was. tail between the legs, licking the wounds and she casting off the chains, packing bags light she was. head held high, blowing a kiss goodbye, refusing to live the lie.

Poetry by B a m b i L y n n P a n a g i o t i s PAGE

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Spring In The Country The sun shines bright The wind blows with the smell of fresh blooming flowers Site of fresh cut grass And the sound of tractors and crop dusters Yes There is no other place I’d rather be The sun shines bright on a beautiful spring day in the country Poetry by M r s . C h r i s t i a n P . S e m a r

Untitled

Visual art by A l l i s o n B a r o u s s e

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Universal Story

Visual Art by L e a h R o m a i n e

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Bridge

Visual art by Kimberly Clement Jefferson

Sky Water

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Love Unfinished If I die before my time, I pray dear God, you help release my mind.

From the all the worry that fills my heart.

Show my children what remains on the most inner part, deep within the folds, hiding there like a work unfinished.

Show them, God, the beauty of a face pure and unpolished.

Hold their fragile bodies in your ever-protecting gentle hands, show my sons how treat women, and help them understand.

Show them how to yield their impulses and rise to the occasion, bless them with the bravery that once obtained can save them.

Dear God, I beg that you give them the self-assurance I never had, to overcome and inspire, to disregard what wounded me bad.

I pray, that they never seek vengeance even if rightly owed.

I hope that they repay the love that they were once showed.

In the face of disaster, let them stay calm.

Let them feel my love, hear my voice, and be welcome home.

Demonstrate the grace in a dancer’s finesse, whose beauty knows no limit, to never move point or digress.

Most of all, have them know you. To crave you. To believe in you.

To never doubt your love, to forever be in pursuit of the truth.

Help them find comfort in your word and love on their sleeve. As the memory of me sits on a desk for everyone to see, disguised as a Polaroid that they eventually won’t need.

When in the end, all we are is who we are.

There is no splicing of the truth beyond hopeful dreams wished upon a star.

Poetry by A d r i e n n e A d a m s

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Wishful thinking won’t get back the time we've lost, when what we wanted was within a grasp but at what cost?

God, I ask that you grant me the forgiveness I need to not hold hate in my heart.

I ask that you release the secret from the folds before regret tears us apart.

With fingers that stretch outwards in attempts to reach the piece that fills this hole, warm in my bed of soil as dark as coal.

Plant seeds of lavender around the anchor that holds my body down.

Remember my voice or the song that I sing when I don't make a sound.

For every seed is a memory and every memory is one last touch.

So if I die before my time, give the children my love.

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Love is War I’m in love with a man, who can’t seem to want the idea of love But hey, what is love?

Love is a war We drop bombs of happiness and fight over what we want We have to brave the battlefields of affection To be a soldier in the game of love is an honor It’s a brave thing to put yourself, to put your heart, out there, For bullets of want and need to soar through your body For the ghastly scars that wondering love leaves us, For the people who endured, violently, the people that love and life was too great for This is for the people who believe that love isn’t real Soldiers of past wars have hurt you, but now it’s your turn to fight for happiness with another Now it’s your time to cherish the bounties of fighting a long war But war never ends, we all know that The tensions of serendipity, will fall through one day And launch us back into the wars of love Were all soldiers fighting for a spot in the highlights of war, the small victories of happiness We all fight for it

Poetry by C a s s i d y A r c e n e a u x

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Norton Dr.

Visual art by R i c h a r d N o r t o n

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Are We Alone From what we know, we are small Scientist only discovered 4 percent of the universe From what we know there is around 200 billion galaxies Our nearest galaxy is about 179 light years away Traveling at the speed of light for one year is about 5,800,000,000 miles Imagine doing that 179 times‌ So our nearest galaxy is around 1 quadrillion miles away And there is 200 BILLION galaxies from what we know The question is‌Are we alone?

Poetry by B r a n d o n P a r k e r

Untitled Poetry by Andrea Latiolais

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Untitled On the water here My boat is my

3 Haiku Swimming in water now dangling on a sharp hook

chariot Chasing waves all day

one man lies in blood I stand there holding a gun I'm a murderer...

My right to bear arms My gun by my side

Hold on, wait your turn, For patience is a virtue, Time has yet to come...

all day " Merica ", this is the way

Poetry by D e s t a n e e C o l l i n s Poetry by D a v i d M a u n e y

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Peculiar Girl

BLACK

Peculiar girl, what made you weep?

Who made you look forlorn?

Was it those dreadful pack of sheep Who taint with spiteful scorn?

Peculiar girl, forget their jests, Ignore the hurtful sting.

Remember that they are just pests— You differ, take pride—sing!

Peculiar girl, you shouldn’t fear, The others burnt their joy.

They made their world a place to sneer, A place to mock, destroy.

So smile, peculiar girl, don’t hide, You are a work of art.

Sitting on the church’s old, wooden bench, Eyes watering with stubborn, silent tears That have not justly been shed in years.

Watching that closed, unpleasant box, Which is unassuming and too bleak.

Something I really must critique.

With the nonexistence of color That makes it horribly dismal Or just outright abysmal; The complete opposite Of the glee you wore.

You deserve more Than a dead, And cold

Unique—so hold yourself high— stride,

Black.

Love every single part.

Poetry by J a s m i n e B r o u s s a r d

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Hope

Today I fell in love maybe for the first time.

Is there hope for me and you, one day or some other life time?

I came to this place as a disaster, but it opened my eyes to realizing there's no other fish that I'd rather be with than you.

Sweating in fear, I realize someday there will be hope for me and you to become the best fishies in the sea that no one has ever seen.

Why can I come up with something as smooth as this when thinking of you? Still, is there hope for me and you or perhaps in another life time, when we're gray and old? I like the sound of eternity because it sounds great with me and you. Perhaps just perhaps, there's hope for me and you in the near life time.

Poetry by C a r a M e c h e

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A Simple Debate “I’m in the mood for blood,” said Dario,

“True. But I’m still just not in the mood

licking his lips.

tonight. My stomach is a bit sensitive today,”

“You are always in the mood for blood.

Can’t you be hungry for anything else? I mean, seriously,” Angel complained.

said Angel. “Aw, the poor baby.” “Shut up.

“No. not really,” he said.

could just eat him up.”

“But look at this one. It looks so happy.

“You have a problem.”

We will feel better after. Not sick an hour

“What? I can’t like the sexy ones? At least I’m more open to other possibilities,” she said.

later.”

“No. I like the blood.”

“I know. But don’t you ever get sick of all the blood? Don’t get me wrong. I love blood too, but after a while, it makes my stomach hurt,” she said.

So, what about this? He looks mighty tasty, I

“Ok, how about a compromise? What do you say about this one?” he asked.

“And how is that a compromise?”

“Well, two lovers: one turns out to be a

“Ah but that is what I love most about it!

The screams of the stupid victims, guts spilling out everywhere….They practically deserve it,” Dario rationalized.

demon, the other is just a figment of his

“You are so weird.”

“That sounds stupid.”

“That’s why you love me. I don’t know.

“But it’s a compromise!”

Anything else just bores me. I need the

“It sounds awful.”

blood in my life, Angel.”

Fiction by K a y l a B a u e r l e

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imagination. He gets depressed and kills everyone. But it’s for love, so it’s sweet.”

A Simple Debate(continued)

YEKAW YEKAW

“Ok, ok. Seriously this time.” Dario

She slowly opened her eyes, her

pointed out one final movie choice.

conscious dimly awake due to the

“This one looks pretty good. Politics,

encouragement of the morning light. She

romance, and gore.”

blinked at the harsh light, then briefly

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to watch that

closed them to settle the prickling she

show. Perfect.”

“Finally! Why does it always take us

felt from the intensity. While her drowsy eyes adjusted, she realized something rather peculiar. The light was not streaks

so long to find something on Netflix?”

of pale orange or yellow that streamed from the window across the room, but it was a single ray of pure white and that shined directly above her. Her groggy mind could not discern if this was truly an anomaly or not and only ponder over it. With her curiosity piqued, she slowly turned her head towards the source of the light. Her eyes were still adjusting and the closer she got to the source, the stronger the intensity of the beam was, and the more her eyes stung. She could Fiction by A n o n y m o u s

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YEKAW YEKAW only see white through her eyelashes

her as the unknown mass landed on

when she was finally facing the

the hardwood floor. Then there was

ceiling. She reached to rub her

a shuffle of heavy feet before the

burning eyes while slowly

sound of the door opening and

processing the odd events in her half

slamming shut echoed deafeningly

conscience mind, but then she jolted

around the room before settling in

and stopped mid-motion. A loud

her mind. The only sound left that

click had sounded and the fierce

she heard was her thumping

light vanished. Her eyes opened

heartbeat and a loud ringing in her

wide, startled, but she could only

ears. Her mind was completely

saw dots of light in the sudden

blank, as if it refused to rewind and

darkness. In the anxiety that

even try to understand what just

consumed her, she forced her body

transpired a few seconds ago. She

to remain still and hush her rapid

did not care in that moment

breaths. The bed dipped, shook and

because she too wanted to refuse it

creaked in the motion of someone

as reality, and only accept it as a

above her, and she yelped when she

nightmare she just woke up from.

felt something warm and soft brush

She even bit her lip, hoping that a

across her entire body. A loud thud

numbness would prove that it was

and subtle quake resonated around

just a dream, but that shattered

Fiction by A n o n y m o u s

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YEKAW YEKAW when she felt her lip sting and

found a message written in bold black

tasted blood on her tongue. She lay

marker on her ornate mirror hanging just

quietly in bed, waited for her mind

on the other side of the room. It took a

and her heart to settle, and tried to

few moments to read the two words

drive the terrifying memory away

because the words were written

from cerebrum. She did not mind

backwards and she was too on edge to

being in the comfort of ignorance

decipher it immediately, but when she

under pitch black for just a little

finally decoded it, she felt her heart stop

more, or at least until the sun came

and her blood run cold.

up. However, her delusion of sanctuary in the dark quickly vanished by her bedroom light

"WAKEY WAKEY"

suddenly illuminating the entire room. She spun her head to see who flipped the light switch beside the door, but the door slammed shut before she could see anything.

She looked around her room to see any damage or any remnants of the stranger. Her eyes immediately

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Fear Trip “So I was thinking of the beach. The kids would love that, don’t you think?” Jemima stares at Ms. Johnson with terror. “What’s wrong, Jemima?”

“Well…I think the park would be a better idea for a field trip. It’s safer,” says Jemima.“Safer? What do you mean? What’s unsafe about the beach,” asks Ms. Johnson.“There are things on the beach.”“Jemima, you are not making any sense. What’s wrong?”“I went to the beach once.”“What happened?”“It was my sixteenth birthday. My parents set up this huge party with all my friends on one of the best beaches in northern Germany…” Jemima was bored with her friends. There they all were making sand castles, gossiping about the other girls and boys, and trying to get “adult drinks” from the Tiki Bar even though they were all underaged, while all she wanted to do was go snorkeling. She walked along the Fiction by K a y l a B a u e r l e

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shore by herself, occasionally kicking at the water. Fed up, Jemima ran to fetch her equipment from the van that shuttled the group, deciding to go snorkeling by herself. The designated snorkeling spot was beautiful. Crystal clear blue water was home to many colorful coral and weird fish dancing among the anemones. Jemima was especially entranced by a strange looking starfish that moved quickly in a straight line. She held her breath and plunged deeper, following the starfish through an opening in the coral forest.

Soon, the light of the sun started to fade as the coral formed a tunnel, forcing Jemima to take out her waterproof flashlight from her bag of supplies.

When she turned her flashlight on the starfish was nowhere to be seen. She swam further into the darkness, and right when her lungs begin to beg for air, found a welcome pocket of air above her.

Fear Trip Jemima emerged, gasping for the breath her lungs craved for, to total blackness.

Her legs ached as she tried to keep herself afloat. She looked around for land to rest on but there is only pitch black water all around her. She swam further into the cavern until she spots a gray triangle not twenty feet away. Jemima stifled a scream. She starts to turn her flashlight off but realizes that this would put her at an even greater disadvantage. Attempting to calm herself she thought that maybe it was just a friendly dolphin. It worked. At least she thought it did, until the black eyes of a hammerhead shark broke the water’s surface. Its jaws widen, showing ugly yellow rows of sharp teeth, as it slowly swam towards Jemima.

“Oh-my-god-oh-my-god-ohmy-god….” She backed up. The shark quickly closed the distance.

Jemima tried to swim faster but was soon stopped by a wall of hard sand. In tears, she felt around her for something - anything - that could help. Her thrashing, sore legs hit open space behind her. She pointed her flashlight at a small hole in the wall where her feet were. Without a second thought she dived through the empty space, which turned out to be another long tunnel.

Not caring about how sore or tired she was, she pushed harder to get away from that shark. She swam for what felt like hours until her feet finally hit ground. Once again, she was back in the crystal clear waters of the beach. A starfish, who looked suspiciously like the one that lured her to the shark nest, mockingly brushed up against her foot.

In the distance she saw her friends playing volleyball, laughing and having fun, with no idea of what had just happened. Jemima walked for five more steps before her legs Fiction by K a y l a B a u e r l e

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Fear Trip finally gave out on her and she collapsed onto the sand. Beautiful, hot, dry sand. Sitting up, she faced the direction of the terror she just narrowly escaped, and spotted a sign. On it was written, in large red letters, “No Swimming,” and a picture of a swimmer being chased by a cartoon shark. Once her speeding pulse slowed down, and some strength returns to her legs, Jemima walked back to her friends.

“Hey, Jemima! Where have you been,” one of the girls called out.

“I have no idea,” she said, “but I am ready to go home.”

As Jemima finishes her tale, Ms. Johnson only nods. She takes a deep breath.

“You know, the park sounds like a great idea.”

Fiction by K a y l a B a u e r l e

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Homosexuality in TV In the history of the United States of

least. Our nation is divided once

America, many have fought for the

again. Christians, bigots, supporters,

Constitution’s grant of Life, Liberty,

LGBT individuals, parents, siblings,

and the Pursuit of Happiness.. In the

celebrities, and many more are

1850’s it was women. Suppressed,

involved in the brawl to guarantee

oppressed, unequal. The Women’s

rights to yet another group facing

fight for equality wasn’t pretty. It divided friends, spouses, and classes, but in the end, women prevailed. In the 1950’s, the fight for civil rights began. Blacks marched and rallied, often supported by women (who had

inequality. Except now, we are in an age of technology and mass communications. Fights can be won using popularity, psychology, social media, and television. So is it working? Does the portrayal of homosexuality on television help

remembered their previous

people around the country to slowly

struggles). News coverage was often

tolerate and even accept it as

of violent riots in the streets and

“okay?” It seems as if so many

later, inspirational heroes to stand for

television shows these days have

the people, such as Martin Luther

characters who are either

King Jr. Now again in 2015 we face

homosexual in real life, or just

another challenge. Equal rights for

playing one on TV. There is no

gays, or marriage equality at the very

concrete evidence, no polls, no Fiction by C h r i s t D o n a h u e

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Homosexuality in TV (continued) studies (that I have seen) to support

rights. How did we get this far? No

that TV is absolutely promoting

doubt viral videos of gay bashing and

homosexuality (and succeeding). But

bullying helped to bring awareness to the

it undeniably does. For so long,

difficulties of being homosexual in our

marriage in the United States has

communities. And no doubt large

been an understood, witnessed

numbers of people coming out of the

agreement between a man and a

closet at the same time contributed

woman, and for so long, no one

(along with the support of loved ones,

objected. If someone did, they stayed

friends, and neighbors.) But as for TV,

silent because it was considered

that’s what I believe ignited the fire and

strange or grotesque to be anything

has, at times, kept it aflame. In 1998, a

other than hetero. When I was a little

hit, yet controversial show, Will and

girl, the saying was “Adam and Eve,

Grace, aired on televisions across the

not Adam and Steve.� But now,

nation. Known for being about two gay

within the last thirty years, big things

males and their close friends, Will and

have happened, and continue to do

Grace caught a lot of attention, and a lot

so. Marriage equality in over 35

of flak. The show was considered

states, the U.S Supreme Court

hilarious by most viewers who watched

upholding DOMA, and citizens

it. People were able to put aside their

joining hands in a battle for more

personal views on the subject of homo-

Fiction by C h r i s t D o n a h u e

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Homosexuality in TV (continued) -sexuality, and just enjoy a show

duty making out between men on the

about two ridiculously funny,

show. Still, while the show was

likeable, and still ordinary, gay men.

drastically conservative compared to

Comparatively, the show wasn’t as

TV today, Will and Grace

nearly as racy as what we see on

unknowingly crossed a huge

television today. Will and Jack were

milestone for acceptance in America.

both gay men, but the most

Of course there were many who still

sexualized character was actually

cringed, but people tend to fear what

Karen. Karen played the drunk hussy

they don’t know. Over time,

and hilarious friend of Jack. In fact,

knowledge and exposure to anything

when it came to inappropriate

will help you to mold a new opinion.

remarks and make out scenes, you

Did the writers of Will and Grace

could bet it was Karen’s line. It is my

intend for this to become such a

belief that since the gay lifestyle was

triumph? Or was someone just

“new” to TV, the writers took baby

testing the waters and looking for a

steps with how much the public

new angle on television? I believe

could grasp. America was still

this ballsy move opened a much

adjusting to the idea of

needed and appreciated floodgate.

homosexuality being acceptable, and

Did a simple sit-com awaken

therefore there wasn’t any heavy

something deep down, suppressed in Fiction by C h r i s t D o n a h u e

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Homosexuality in TV (continued) in our society and rumbling to be

support them in their made up challenges

free? Not all Americans welcome the

of being parents and lesbians in today’s

idea of marriage equality, but the

world. But that’s exactly the whole point.

numbers who do are growing every

Americans watch hours of television per

year. Has the entertainment industry

day, what better way to manipulate

succeeded in helping us to get past

thought than by inserting ideas and

America’s standard of taboo?

possibilities into their minds via their

Shonda Rhimes, a writer for the

favorite shows? Ultimately, continued

ABC television network is well

exposure to the lifestyle on TV will help

known for incorporating character

you to rationalize that maybe this isn’t

likeability, and homosexuality on her

such a horrible thing. In fact, when

hit shows such as Grey’s Anatomy,

observing differences between the sit-

and How to Get Away with Murder.

com Will and Grace, and Grey’s

Currently, Dr. Callie Torres and Dr.

Anatomy, one must wonder how much

Arizona Robbins are not only

responsibility falls on the entertainment

medical specialists, but married, and

industry for the evolution of

have a daughter. They are portrayed

homosexuality and sexual exposure. In

as loving, wonderful mothers. It’s so

the 90’s there was nothing hot and heavy

easy to fall in love with the

between Will, Jack, and other men.

American dream they are living, and

Society just wasn’t ready, and I don’t

Fiction by C h r i s t D o n a h u e

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Homosexuality in TV (continued) believe the writers were either. I

how much the dynamic of the sexual

believe it naturally progressed with

gay and lesbian lifestyles has

acceptance and ratings of the show.

changed between the 90’s and 2015,

Now, in shows like Grey’s Anatomy,

yet we love it! We eat it up and ask

and How to Get Away with Murder,

for more! Let’s face it, Dr. Callie is

there are scenes riddled with

an amazing woman! She’s not a bad

promiscuity and sex! Not just

person, she saves lives, she loves,

straight sex, but lesbian and gay as

and she raises a daughter. She is a

well. In How to Get Away with

friend, a lover, a mother, a brilliant

Murder, a law student is shown in

doctor, and an individual. Callie is

multiple episodes during the first

absolutely not a freak of nature, or a

season picking out men in bars to

demon that belongs in hell like some

take home and have male on male

folks may insist. Maybe

sex with. Shocking? Not in my

homosexuality isn’t a big deal.

opinion, but maybe in others. In

Maybe, just maybe, homosexuals are

Grey’s Anatomy, Dr. Callie Torres

actually plain, coffee drinking, essay

has had sex with two women (on

writing, boring folks like the rest of

screen under the covers) and so has

us. Perhaps they deserve to be just as

Dr. Arizona Robbins, while in the

equally happy, or just as equally

on-call room at work! It’s interesting

miserable like the rest of us. Could it Fiction by C h r i s t D o n a h u e

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Homosexuality in TV (continued) be that all of the celebrities we

What exactly does that mean anymore?

follow on Instagram and twitter are

Normal in each era has significant

right? Half of them are on the

differences. 50 years ago, a typical

rainbow and still have the ability to

household was a stay at home mother, a

pay taxes, and retain awesomeness,

working father, and young children who

(gasp!) What does this mean for

said things like “aw shucks, pop!” Today

America? The influence of television

the tolerance of cultural and religious

on this subject means a few things

differences (especially) has helped us to

for America. We are without a doubt

broaden the scope. It’s not “abnormal”

impressionable, but in the last 10

anymore to be a single parent, a career

years up to 36 states have legalized

woman, or living unmarried with a

gay marriage. Is there any

partner. I won’t give one hundred

coincidence Will and Grace began

percent of the credit to television, even

16 years ago, and Grey’s Anatomy

though it has without a doubt, in my

ten years ago? Is it a coincidence that

opinion, pushed most people past the

as TV introduces more possibilities

teetering stage of “where do I stand?”

and support, more citizens’ rally in

Perhaps this is just an accidental (or

the same direction? Writers are

planned) cycle. A writer tested the waters

succeeding in changing the way our

and came up with a hit. Positive

country views “normal.”

feedback was received which in turn

Fiction by C h r i s t D o n a h u e

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Homosexuality in TV (continued) gave more writers the courage and interest to feed the flame. While the outspoken few in our population may speak a rude opinion, don’t give up on us yet! There is clear evidence that people are coming around.

People are seeing that maybe this “controversial” lifestyle isn’t as bad as they were taught to believe. There is clearly a demand for it in drama and reality TV. And while the industry gives us what we want, dose by dose of gay, we take it in, we accept it, we love it, and return our satisfaction in ratings, in frequent parades, and in the voting polls.

Fiction by C h r i s t D o n a h u e

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Ugh! I hate this!

“I just don’t understand why I can’t

named Alyssa who is diagnosed with

get through to her, Emily. I mean,

dyslexia. Mom has told me about her

I’ve tried every method I know that

several times. I tried to explain to my

helped you to study and it isn’t

mom how people with dyslexia think and

working! I’m racking my brain

feel. It’s extremely difficult to explain to

trying to come up with a solution.”

someone who hasn’t been in my shoes. I

Mom tells me as she comes through

decided it was time to meet Miss Alyssa.

the door after a long day at work. I

I didn’t have school because ACT testing

knew exactly what she was talking

was in in progress at my high school. I

about. “Mom, you have to

arrived a few moments before Alyssa’s

understand that you’ve helped me

class started. My mom worked

over several years. It doesn’t or

individually with her because her level

won’t happen overnight. Also, you’re

of ability was much lower than her grade

my mom and I trust you. I wanted

level. Also, she doesn’t work well with

you to help me. If a teacher I barely

others. I was sitting at the table she

knew would try to help me in any

normally has her intervention class when

way, I wouldn’t get it either. I would

she walked in the room. I saw the

put up a wall to hide the person I

aggravation and exhaustion on her face.

really was.” We were talking about a

She was very tense, and I could tell she

little girl in her intervention class

had an extremely thick wall surrounding

Fiction by E m i l y

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| 48

Ugh! I hate this! her. Looking at her small brown

was dyslexic, and I knew how she felt. I

eyes, that are covered with her bangs

didn’t want to make it all about being

when she feels insecure, I could see

dyslexic so, I changed the subject. I told

that there were so many feelings

her I was about to graduate from high

bottled up inside that little girl. I

school. As soon as I told her this, I

could relate to each one she was

remember seeing the surprised and

feeling. As I watched her slowly

confused look on her face. You see, I

walk to the table where we were

knew she had told my mom that she

sitting, all those feelings of anxiety

wanted to quit school. She said the

came rushing back to me. The

intervention class was stupid, and she

feelings of aggravation, sadness,

couldn’t do all the things my Mom was

disappointment, anger, anxiety, the

teaching her because it was too hard. I

list goes on and on. Once she sat at

explained to her how I fought for 13

the table I said, “Hi! How are you? I

years to get to the place I was at now.

am Mrs. Angie’s daughter. I’ve been

When I told her that I was going to go to

wanting to meet you.” She had a

college once I finished high school, she

hard time looking at me face to face.

seemed shocked. I told her if I could do

I knew she wasn’t going to talk to

it with my mom’s help she could do it

me until I made her feel comfortable.

too. “Nothing is impossible i you keep

I started telling her how I

trying! Set your mind to it, and you can Fiction by E m i l y

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| 49

Ugh! I hate this! make anything happen. Most of all,

all those who deal with a variety of

don’t listen to all the negative

different disabilities. As I watched her

comments people might say about

go back to her classroom, it took me

you.” Once I told her this, I think it

back to a time when I was in her third

helped her to feel comfortable. Once

grade shoes. Before I was told that I had

again, trying to lighten the mood, I

dyslexia no one knew why I had so much

showed her my senior pictures. I

trouble with phonics, writing and

asked her which one she liked the

distinguishing numbers. My journey

best. After taking her tiny hands out

dealing with dyslexia began in

of her pockets, she finally brushed

Kindergarten. I was able to recognize my

the hair out of her eyes. Alyssa

letters only by the sound they made. My

finally looked at me and smiled. She

teacher would play the "fix it" game,

gracefully pointed her tiny finger and

where she would say sounds, and we

showed me her favorite one. After

would blend them to figure out the word.

about 30 minutes of talking to her,

I was horrible at this game. My teacher

she needed to go back to class. I

would tell my mom, "Don't worry she'll

realized in that moment that I wanted

get it.” I passed on to the first grade

to help children that were just like

where things really changed. I had a very

us. Children who go through this

hard time reading written words. Orally,

horrible thing called dyslexia, plus

I had no problems. My mom started to

Fiction by E m i l y

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|50

Ugh! I hate this! volunteer at the school to learn how

classroom where my mom was

she could help me. By the middle of

substituting that day. As I opened the

the year, the teacher told my Mom,

door, I saw my mom looking at me. All

"She is lazy, and you are paranoid.”

the emotions I was feeling at that

From that point on my mom and dad

moment came rushing to the surface.

never gave up. In second grade, I had

Tears of disappointment and sadness ran

a wonderful teacher who cared. She

down my face as I told my mom that I

took extra time with me, and she got

made a 40/F on the test. She could see

me into a Learning Center class.

that I was extremely disappointed. She

School was still very hard, but I felt

was also disappointed, and she was still

better about it. I struggled through

very upset. Mom kept asking me,

third grade, but I was promoted to

“What?! You knew the information

fourth. One day, when I was in 4th

backward and forward! We have been

grade, Mom and I were on the way

studying this information for weeks!”

to school. We were studying one last

Not knowing what to say, I just kept

time for a big test I had scheduled

crying. After the dismissal bell, we had a

later that day. After the teacher

talk with one of my mom’s elementary

graded my paper and handed it back

school teachers, Mrs Lucito. She was the

to me, I slowly walked though the

Administrative Assistant at my school.

dimly lit halls to the first grade

She suggested that my parents have me Fiction by E m i l y

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| 51

Ugh! I hate this! evaluated to see if there was

usually very good with creative things.

something wrong. I went through

Learning this really explained a lot about

several different evaluations before

me. It was the perfect explanation as to

getting a straight answer. I was

why I had trouble focusing while I read.

diagnosed with dyslexia, dysgraphia,

It also explained why I had no

and ADD. My parents, along with

confidence in myself. I refused to read

the rest of my family, didn't really

aloud in class because I was always

understand what all of this meant at

afraid someone would laugh at me when

first. My parents and my

I couldn’t pronounce a word correctly.

grandmother researched these

No one ever knew that I was dyslexic

disabilities for a few weeks. They

because I kept it a secret. I was very

were trying to find out exactly what

insecure about my disability. I witnessed

it was and all the different ways they

how other kids treated the children with

could help me become successful.

special needs, and I didn't want to be in

Dyslexia is a disability that makes it

that position. This also explained why I

difficult to learn phonics, recognition

love photography and working with my

of certain letters and numbers, along

hands. I also write all of my feelings

with a list of other difficulties.

down in a special journal that no one

Although dyslexics have the most

sees but me. Soon after we found out I

trouble with these issues, they are

was dyslexic, I started going to a class

Fiction by E m i l y

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|52

Ugh! I hate this! after school in Lafayette for dyslexic

special place like this to go making them

kids. My teacher, Ms. Nelson, made

feel comfortable and successful. As I

all of the six children that were

went through middle school, I knew that

chosen for this class feel very

I would never laugh at anyone while

special. I made some really good

they were reading. I knew in my heart

friends there. I learned a lot about

that I never wanted to see anyone being

how to deal with my disability. I

picked on for their disability. I wish

learned several shortcuts that helped

everyone truly understood that just

me not have so much trouble in

because you don’t understand why a

certain subjects. All of these things

certain person is the way they are doesn't

made me feel good knowing that I

give you the right to laugh at them. So, I

finally had a place where I didn't

made it my duty to try my absolute best

have to be nervous to read or say if I

to be nice and friendly to everyone who

had a problem understanding. Being

might be a little different. Once I

nervous never bothered me in this

finished with the class in Lafayette,

class. I knew that we all had the

which lasted until I was in the 6th grade,

same disability, and we were all

I felt very confident in myself. I knew I

dealing with the same problems. I

could do it! I didn't have to cry and say

wish every child that goes through

“Ugh! I hate this!” Don't get me wrong, I

any type of disability could have a

still had bad days where I couldn’t Fiction by E m i l y

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| 53

Ugh! I hate this! understand something because of my

expense makes it difficult for people to

disability but my family helped me

find out about their disabilities. I hate to

through it. They kept telling me

think that all of those people get teased

“You can do it!”, “Don’t ever give

on a regular basis! The more disabled

up!” “Never say can’t.” These words

people are teased, the more likely it is

helped me through a lot of my dark

for them to give up on school and life.

days. I wish I could tell every child

They are always told they couldn't do it,

that has a disability that! Those are

or that they were stupid or dumb. I

the words that keep us going through

started to research more about dyslexia

all the confusion and insecurity. In

as I got older. I learned that a lot of very

the world there are about 650 million

successful people have this disability.

people with disabilities. About 17%

For example, Albert Einstein was called

of the world is dyslexic. This is

mentally slow and unsociable. Thomas

unreal to me, the fact that this many

Edison was sent home with a note from

people are diagnosed with this type

school saying “he was too stupid to learn

of disability. There are several

and could not be taught. ” Steve Jobs,

people who don’t know what’s

Beethoven, Leonardo da Vinci, and even

wrong and just struggle through

Tommy Hilfiger are also more successful

school. This is mainly because it is

people who struggle with this disability.

so expensive to get evaluated. This

Can you imagine what the world would

Fiction by E m i l y

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|54

Ugh! I hate this! be if these people had given up on

year. The teacher might just be

school and life? They were all teased

aggravated and ready for the child to

a lot through school, but all of these

move to the next grade. If this is the

successful people had one thing in

case, then learning will never get any

common. They all had one person or

easier through the rest of their years in

thing in their life that got them

school. It’s not only about them learning

through the tough times and showed

how to read and write, it’s also about

them easier ways to learn particular

them having confidence in themselves.

things. I want to be that person for

Having the mind set that they can do it,

maybe the next Einstein or the next

makes all the difference in the world. I

Beethoven! I want to show all

want to be that special person for all

children that think they can’t learn,

disabled children to look up to. I think I

they really can! I want to help them

could do this because I know exactly

through their elementary schooling

how they are feeling. I know how

because honestly this is when the

stressful it is having a disability. I want

teasing and struggles hurt them the

them to see that you can be successful

most. If they don’t do well in

and still have a disability. Most people

phonics and learning their numbers,

don’t realize this is even a possibility. I

most teachers just promote them

want to help all children with many

thinking that they will get it the next

different types of disabilities. All disabFiction by E m i l y

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| 55

Ugh! I hate this!

-ilities. All disabilities affect a child’s confidence the same. I know exactly how to help them tear down that wall they build up around themselves. I can and will help them learn how to build a wall just for blocking all the negativity that they will hear throughout their lives.

Fiction by E m i l y

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|56

Untitled “There used to be a tree, right

a strange old man. I nodded my

over there. No, not there. You’re

head. Unlike other worlds, where the

looking at it all wrong.” The old

skies were blue some days and

man reached out with his claw-

spattered with a cloud or two other

like fingers, cold from bad blood

days, our own world had no such

circulation and covered in mottled

variation. We sat beneath a canopy

liver spots, and wrapped them

of thick, dense white clouds, never

around my little boy face, turing

changing in their thickness or their

my head until I opened my mouth

denseness. We knew that there was

to cry out in pain. Instead, I bent

a true sky out there, of course. We

my body forward, hanging my

weren't ignorant, despite what they

upper half upside down. “Yes, just

say about us now. But for us, the

so,” the old man said, satisfied.

clouds may as well have been our

He patted me on the head,

sky. We never saw past them. “The

patronizing. “The tree, it grew

tree was a rumpled old southern tree

from the sky. You see up there?

of some sort, and it had the sweetest

Where all of the clouds are?” I

smell you can imagine. It just popped

straightened back up and sat

up one day, it’s tippy-top branch just

down, crossed legged, at his feet.

skimming the tippy-top branches that

This was my favorite of Lemmy’s

grew the way they were supposed to

stance old stories. He was a

grow, big and strong and right side Fiction by A u d r e y C o o t s

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| 57

Untitled (continued) up so that freckled faced little

up in the middle of the night, and he

boys like yourself could climb

spotted this tree, and he went to get

them.” Here, Lemmy paused,

his mama. She didn’t believe a word

chewing something that I was

that came out of his mouth, and she

sure I didn’t want to know about.

spanked him a good ‘un, sent him

Old men always seemed to be

straight back to bed. But Kembly was

chewing something gross, and all

a meddlesome little boy. “Soon as his

I ever wanted was bubble gum. I

mama went back to sleep that night,

didn’t understand why they’d ever

Kembly snuck out his bedroom

want anything else. “The first

window and stood on the bank of

person to see it was little Kembly.

that little river there. Yes, yep, that

He was- oh, I’d say right about

same river you’re lookin’ at, right

your age, I’m guessing.” Lemmy

there. Kembly skipped stones there

winked at me. Kembly had been

every day, and he wasn’t afraid of the

right about my age for the last

dark waters and the hurried current.

four years, and I never bothered

Those were just the background

to ask whether Kembly was four

noise of Kembly’s every day life. So

or five, or six, or seven. This year

Kembly, he just started walking. He

I’d be eight, and Kembly would

waded in ’til the water got up past his

be eight, too. That’s just the way

head, and then he started swimming.

it was. “ Little Kembly, he woke

By the time he got to the other

Fiction by A u d r e y C o o t s

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Untitled (continued) side, to that bank you see there,

that tree cleared. And do you know

with all of the normal trees, he

what he saw?” “The sky, with lots of

shouldda been plum wore out,

pretty bright stars and comets and

but he wasn’t. Nope. Not this little

space ships!” I answered. I knew that

boy. “Kembly didn’t waste any

this was wrong; this was

time. He shimmied himself right

certainly not what little Kembly had

up the tree nearest that

seen on that night, but it was the

abomination in the sky, and he

rehearsed answer that all of us

shimmied quick-“ Lemmy slapped

learned in school- so that we

his hands together to

wouldn’t seem ignorant when foreign

demonstrate just how quick little

dignitaries came to visit and asked

Kembly was- “and he was at the

us about our knowledge of the

tip top before he knew it. Now,

worlds beyond our own peaceful,

what he did there changed his life

clouded in skies. Lemmy’s eyes grew

forever. “He reached out one little

wide. “No, no, boy, not at all!” he

finger, dirt under the nails just like

said. “Kembly saw another world,

yours, and he touched the tip of

just like this one! It was a mirror to

that upside down tree. The way

this world, almost exact in every way,

Kembly told it, his whole body

except that the boy who was clinging

started shaking, and for just an

to that upside down tree wasn’t a boy

instant, the clouds right around

at all, but a very old man. “He looked Fiction by A u d r e y C o o t s

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Untitled (continued) at Kembly and he said, ‘By

branch. “Well, now, Kembly got all

Heaven! I’ve turned right back

sorts of turned around. Suddenly, he

around!’ And he started groping

was hanging upside down from the

for Kembly’s hair, trying to switch

very topmost part of an old tree, and

places with him. Can you

he was very scared. But he wiggled

imagine?” I let my eyes grow big

himself around and then he started

in their sockets, showing the

the work of climbing down that tree,

shock and fear that I knew

quick as he could, to check on that

Lemmy wanted to see in his

old man. He thought to himself, Why

audience. Kembly fought the old

was that old man climbing this tree?

man off, and to his surprise, that

Old men have no business climbing

old man fell down his side of the

trees. “When he got to the bottom of

tree- fell right down to the bottom!

the tree, he saw a thin trickle of

Kembly was a good sort of boy,

blood coming from the old man’s

so he didn’t hesitate. He looked

mouth, and the old man wasn’t

over his shoulder once, to make

breathing. Kembly got very scared,

sure that the lights in his house

so he went back to the tree right

were still off and his mama wasn’t

away, intent upon climbing all the

coming after him, and he jumped-

way back up and all the way back

just like a monkey- from his

down his own tree to get his mama-

branch to that upside down

she could help this man! “But when

Fiction by A u d r e y C o o t s

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Untitled (continued) he looked up, he realized that the

She was nursing a cup of tea,

other tree was gone. The clouds had

rocking gently back and forth. “She

resumed their rightful place at the

looked right at him, her hand frozen

top of the world, and the branches of

in midair, and her teacup fell to the

his tree were no longer there. “Well now Kembly really started to panic.

How would he get home? “That’s when he looked around and realized that he was home- at least, sort of.

You see, his house still stood right

floor with a clatter. ‘Kembly!’ she shouted, scaring the poor little boy to death. She rushed forward and hugged him tight, pulling him into her bosom, and Kembly thought he’d

here, his porch right where we’re

never smelled anyone so

sitting now, ‘cept in that other world,

comfortable-smelling. He wasn’t

and the only difference was that the

afraid anymore; instead, he was

lights in this house were on. So

madly curious, the way any little boy

Kembly ran to the bank, swam

your age is, and rightly so. How do

through the water, and ran to the

you learn about the world if you don’t

house. He charged through the door,

ask about it, anyhow? “So Kembly

and what do you think he found? His

started right in with his questions,

mama sitting at the kitchen table, sewing? His daddy smoking a pipe?

“No, sir. He found Charity, a sweet old woman, sitting at the kitchen table where his mama used to sit.

and Charity answered them the best she could. She told him that that old man was Kembly himself, all grown up. He’d come through some sort of Fiction by A u d r e y C o o t s

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Untitled (continued) wormhole, and he was in the

He worried me half to death with all

future- yes, the future! Can you

of his nonsense, but he claimed he

believe that? “Charity was

knew how he’d die and challenging

saddened by the news of her

Jimmy Alcove to a swim race across

husband’s death. Little Kembly

the currents wasn’t it.’ Here the old

wanted to go to him right away,

biddy paused and smiled to herself,

but Charity told him that she’d

fond of her memories the way all of

known it was going to

us old folks are. You’ll get there one

happen. ‘“You see,’ she told little

day too, youngin’, don’t you worry

Kembly, ‘Kembly told me that his

one bit. “Anyhow, she kept going.

parents never believed him, but I

Told Kembly that he had a mighty

did. He told me that years ago,

fine life to look forward to, but he

when he was a little boy, he

best be getting back home now

climbed to the top of that tree out

before his mama woke up, and

there, and he saw himself, and

before anyone else in the town saw

he saw his future, and he married

his freckled little face and his bright,

a very comfortable old woman,

cherry red hair- yes, just like yours!-

and they had a very comfortable

and recognized him from the pictures

old life. Thus was his excuse for

on the wall. Kembly was a good little

all of the misadventure he got

boy, so he did as he was told, and

into when we were teenagers. He

sure enough, when he got back to

Fiction by A u d r e y C o o t s

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Untitled (continued) that tree- the other branch had

tightly to her chest. She was crying

reappeared. “He shimmied his

and carrying on so much that Kembly

way up one side and down the

was afraid something bad had

other side, and the sun was just

happened, and it had- but

starting to rise when he got

to him. “When his mama finally

home. “But you know what? The

pulled away from him, Kembly was

lights in his house were on, and

shocked. She’d aged overnight. Her

he was afraid he’d get in trouble if

face was now the face of a little old

just waltzed right back in through

lady, and it took him awhile to

the front door, so he went and

understand that while he’d only been

climbed back in through his

gone for a night, time must have

bedroom window. His bedroom

been running differently here than it

was just the way he’d left it, so he

was over in that other world. His

didn’t think anything was amiss,

mama finally settled down enough to

and he fell right to sleep,

tell him that he’d been gone for

exhausted from all of the climbing

over forty years. “She’d always held

and swimming he’d done

on to the hope that he’d return one

throughout the night. “But when

day, so she left his bedroom just the

he woke up a few hours later, it

way it was- the way any grieving

was to the sound of his mama

parent would do. And sure enough,

screaming and hugging him

here he was, still a little boy, right in Fiction by A u d r e y C o o t s

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Untitled (continued) front of her. “She was a smart

That’s what the townsfolk said- that

woman, but she didn’t bother to

little Kembly must be an orphan, and

question the details surrounding

a right sweet one, too, and sure he

her boy’s return. She was just

favored the little Davens boy who’d

glad to have him back home, and

gone missing forty years before, but

the townsfolk who were old

things like this were impossible. He

enough to remember little

took to calling himself by a different

Kembly’s disappearance shook

name so as not to upset anyone, and

their heads at him. His former

there you have it, all tied up in a nice

schoolmates were now parents

little bow- Kembly was back home,

and grandparents themselves,

only forty years too late, and he

and they would wrinkle their

supposed it was a little inconvenient,

brows at him and comment on

but that was fine by him. “Kembly’s

how remarkable it was that this

dad had died years before, and

little stranger looked so very

Kembly was sad about that, but he

much like Kembly, but no, it

wasn’t very sad about anything else.

couldn’t be him. But good for

This world had new gadgets and toys

Missus Davens that she’d found

to play with, and new television

a way to move on from her grief,

shows to explore, and Kembly was

and obviously helped out a little

just at the right age- right about your

orphan boy in the process.

age now, I said- to want to learn

Fiction by A u d r e y C o o t s

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Untitled (continued) about all of these things instead

never felt, or claimed so, anyway.

of feeling like the world had up

Lemmy didn’t like to rush off

and left him behind. So that’s

anywhere. “Still,” he said quietly, and

what he did. And when he was

I think he’d forgotten that I was there,

thirteen and he met a new

listening to his story still. “It makes

neighbor named Charity, he told

you wonder. If… If he, little Kembly,

her he was gonna marry her one

could somehow go back to that time

day, and that he did. He played to

when his mama was young and strict

his heart’s content and he never

and strong, and his daddy was still

worried about anything, because

around, and his friends were all his

he knew when his end would

own age and hadn’t gone up forty

come, and just like the old

years over night- mightn’ he want to

woman version of Charity had

try that? To go back and live it all

told him- it wouldn’t be through

again?” Lemmy spat something dark

any misadventure or accident

over the porch rail and into the dirt. I

here. Idn’t that something?” The

liked this story, but I was getting

old man’s eyes were glazed, and

bored. “I’m gonna go play baseball,” I

he was staring off into the

told him, dusting myself off. “Right,

distance, watching the waters

right,” he said. “You go do that.” I

flow between the two banks with

jumped from the porch and headed

an urgency that he, himself, had

across town to the Fiction by A u d r e y C o o t s

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Untitled (continued) I jumped from the porch and

regardless of Lemmy’s warnings, I

headed across town to the

wanted to enjoy my childhood

Diamond Field, where the other

without realizing I was enjoying it.

boys my age would be mid-game,

His stories were entertaining, but the

and Lemmy called one last

melancholy tone he took toward the

thought out as I jogged away:

end of this one always chilled me.

“Enjoy it, boy,” he said. “Even if

That night, when his wife was

you get forty extra years, it goes

sleeping, Lemmy swam the little river

too fast, and you’ll want it all back

and climbed the tree across the

one day. Enjoy it while you can!” I

bank. When his wife called in help

quickened my pace, wanting to

getting his body off of the ground and

get away from him now. I was

back across the water, so she could

seven and a half, and I didn’t

give him a proper burial, everyone

want to think about the strength

seemed surprised but her. I caught

in my knees, the way they moved

her alone for a moment, sitting in a

without pain, the way I could

church pew while everyone else was

jump without aching, the way I

shaking hands at the back of the

could fall without breaking. That

church, getting ready for the

part of my life, the old part, the

ceremony to begin. She was smiling

painful, aching, waiting part, was

softly to herself, and she patted my

years away, decades away, and

shoulder fondly when I slid onto the

Fiction by A u d r e y C o o t s

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Untitled (continued) seat beside her. “It was him,

we’re only called to believe. Who am

wasn’t it?” I asked. “Lemmy

I to say that one is harder than the

was… was…” “That’s okay,” she

other? Sometimes believing is…

said quietly. “You can say it.” I

Well, it’s as impossible as a boy who

cleared my throat, calling up my

never aged, not a day in forty years,

bravery. “Lemmy was Kembly? It

and it’s as impossible as a woman

was a true story?” The old

finally getting over her grief with the

woman winked, and a single tear

help of an orphan who looks just like

slid down her cheek. “You tell

her missing son. What do you think?”

me,” she said. “Was he trying to

I nodded my head at her and agreed.

go back?” I asked, and she

“Do you think I’ll be chosen to

nodded her head. “We all try to

believe or to go on an adventure?”

go back, in some way or other,”

“I’m sure you’ll have an adventure of

she said. She gripped my knee.

your own,” she said. “Right now,

“Listen, sweetie. The universe

you’re being told to just believe.

chooses special people to do

Don’t question it. Just live in the

special things. Sometimes we’re

magic of it. Lemmy was- Kembly was

called to perform a great deed, to

a gentle, kind old soul, even when I

do an amazing thing, to have a

met him. We were just babies back

great adventure, to achieve the

then, barely teenagers, and he was

impossible… And sometimes

already just as good as a Fiction by A u d r e y C o o t s

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Untitled (continued) person can get. “You strive to be

I hoped that for him, and I hoped,

like that, okay? Adventure comes

too, that he would help me to find an

to people who can still be good,

adventure of my own. Until then, I’m

even when they know deep down

content to pass his stories along,

that they’re a little more special

waiting for the day when I find my

than the rest of us.” She patted

believer, the other half of the

my head fondly. “You just be

necessary components of the epic

good now, child.” I watched them

adventure that I know awaits us all.

put Lemmy out to sea that day, disposing of his body the way that everyone in our world disposed of bodies: by giving them back to the water. And it seemed to me that he wasn’t lonely or sad; instead, as I watched him float away, I thought that Lemmy was just beginning a new adventure, one where he could be young again, and where his knees wouldn’t ache when he jumped.

Fiction by A u d r e y C o o t s

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The Company Washcloths Bring The alarm clock’s buzzer ended

cheeks and made the pink wallpaper

with one last, shrieking beep as

pale in comparison. Jules steadied

Jules’s hand pressed the small,

her shaking hands and applied

black off button. Her withered

make-up to her gentle skin. She

hand retreated back under the

pulled her ever-thinning hair this way

blankets as she took one final

and that way before settling on a

relaxing stretch before leaving

bouncing bun. Her happiness

her bed. Slowly, as old ladies do,

radiated throughout her entire being

she gently raised herself to greet

as she chose her outfit. Would he

the sunlight pouring into her

notice the rose on her cheeks?

room. Her bed didn’t make a

Would he compliment on her outfit

sound as her frail form rose off

today? She pondered these

the mattress and stood on the

questions before choosing a simple

bedside rug. Ever so slowly, she

green blouse and long skirt that

made her way to the bathroom

complimented her eyes. After

and habitually checked the

approving of her outward

calendar near her mirror. The last

appearance, Jules began to tidy up

date box without a red marker

the living room area. She moved her

slash was circled. She rechecked

lounge pillows to the far corner to

with bated breath… today was

make the sofa seem more inviting.

the day! Excitement rushed to her

The morning could not have been Fiction by W y n S t - J u l i e n

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The Company Washcloths Bring (continued) ore beautiful, so it was only

the day from making her to

natural to open her screen door

uncomfortable. Minutes turned to

to let in some natural light. Jules

hours in her mind. The soft music in

prepared a large plate of cookies

the background did little to take her

and a pitcher of lemonade. She

mind off the waiting. Surely, she must

positioned the refreshments

have fallen asleep for a few moments.

outside near her rocking chair.

It was unnatural for anyone to wake

Everything looked picturesque, a

up so early. Jules startled awake at

perfect postcard for a small

the sound of the van engine trudging

country home. Lastly, Jules

along her long driveway. The white

turned her radio on a very low

and blue vehicle was a welcomed

volume in the living room. ‘Young

sight in the cloud of dust. Jules waved

people,’ she thought, ‘like a home

to the driver as he got out and made

with some noise.’ The clock

his way to the porch. “Good Morning

struck the hour and Jules took

Ms. Jules.” The gentlemen patted

one last look at herself in the

down his navy blue suit as he went to

mirror before sitting comfortably

the back of his van. “It looks like you

in her rocking chair outside. The

have another package.” “Really?”

anticipation of his visit eased the

Jules responded. “I wouldn’t have

pain in her joints. The porch roof,

guessed. How are you Johnathan?

somewhat, prevented the heat of

The postman walked up the

Fiction by W y n S t - J u l i e n

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The Company Washcloths Bring reaky, off-white steps and handed

The ice was nearly gone from the

her a small package. “I’m good

glasses so Jules just poured the

ma”am. The wife says hello.”

contents in the sink. She closed the

Jules slowly signed her name on

screen door, and turned the radio

the paperwork. “Would you like

dial off. Jules knees pounded with

some cookies and lemonade,

pain underneath her skirt. As she

Jon?” Jon, not looking up from

considered taking some medicine to

his clipboard, replied, “No,

ease her ailments, Jules opened the

ma’am. I have to reach before

small package. A new dishcloth slid

noon.” “Oh, I see.” Jules tried to

out of the wrapping, which she

hide the sadness in her voice by

promptly folded and placed in the

pretending to stifle a yawn. “Well,

cabinet. The little door of the cabinet

take care. See you next time.”

could barely close with all of the

Jon parted from her porch with a

wash cloths Jules had collected.

smile. Jules watched the van back up, nearly missing her neglected bushes, and pull out of her driveway. After taking a few moments to collect herself, she brought the cookies and

lemonade into the kitchen.

Fiction by W y n S t - J u l i e n

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Bayou Paranormal "Not many people believe in the

specialist. He solves technological

paranormal." I'll never forget

peril by trouble shooting and solving

those being the first words that

problems for the computers and

man said to me, saying them with

other various electronic devices in all

a grin from ear to ear. He has

surrounding campuses. American

personality with a

entertainment

heart of gold, always

desensitizes our belief

laughing and smiling

of ghost in many

where ever he goes.

movies, television

He is a jolly man with

shows, and video

a hobby most people

games, leading us to

would find kooky.

conclude that ghost are

Randy is a ghost

simply superstitions

hunter by night,

and only meant for

sometimes conducting

entertainment value.

paranormal investigations on

Randy is a firm believer of the

SLCC campuses. By day he

paranormal, spirits, and demons, so

works behind the scenes for

much so that he's on the search for

South Louisiana Community

the truth about ghost. He's a

College as a level one network

paranormal investigator part of a group called 'Bayou Paranormal', a

Fiction by S t e p h a n i e P i z z o l a t t o

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Bayou Paranormal (continued) hiatus with two remaining

stop the pinching but it happened

members. Star is the leader and

each time." he said. "So you believe

Randy is the technology

the pinching was done by a ghost?" I

manager. As we sat in the chilly

asked. "Yes but not just any ghost. My

IT office my very first question,

grandmother use to pinch my feet

the beginning that lead to this

when she was alive. My grandmother

moment was on the tip of my

was the one pinching my feet that

tongue. "What inspired you to

night. When I got out of bed her

become a ghost hunter?" Randy

apparition appeared in front of me. I

made a whole hearted laugh

been a believer ever since, I want to

followed by a long exhale. He

speak to the 'other side' and learn

folded his arms and leaned back

more about spirits." "That's actually

in his office chair "Well... when I

pretty amazing." I said in awe. That's

was 16 my grandmother died. I

exactly what he does in Bayou

was going through a tough time

Paranormal. The group has

so I wanted to get into music, but

investigated in graveyards, schools,

my mother wouldn't allow me.

insane asylums, and private residents

One night while I was frustrated

in effort to communicate with spirits.

and lying in bed I felt someone

Paranormal investigation is not a

pinch my feet, but no one was

game of how far can you provoke

there. I tried moving my feet to

spirits. Their goal is to disprove any Fiction by S t e p h a n i e P i z z o l a t t o

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Bayou Paranormal (continued) unusual report as paranormal in

put in place using HD video or

origin. They have to think logically

infrared to capture any spirits that

and be skeptical during

manifest. They also carry around

investigations. Each person in the

hand held cameras, k2 meters,

group is assigned a position that

Ovilus', and voice recorders. Once a

has specific duties. Hours of time

spirit chooses to make themselves

and effort is put into what they do

known, the equipment is able to pick

from start to finish they must be

up their signals in many different

alert, focused, organized, and

ways. They time stamp and take

careful. Preparation for an

notes while investigating to keep

investigation is a process of

track of their recordings. The most

planning. Randy is the equipment

prominent device they use is the

manager, his main priority is to

Ovilus. The Ovilus is a device

make sure all the devices are

specifically used by paranormal

working properly. He also

investigators to help communicate

provides extra batteries, because

with spirits. It's similar to dowsing

spirits tend to drain the power in

rods having the capabilities of

devices to use as energy. There's

measuring electromagnetic fields

a central location where a

that it turns into audio readings. It

computer is set up to monitor all

has different settings to pick up

devices. Next the cameras are

different readings.

Fiction by S t e p h a n i e P i z z o l a t t o

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Bayou Paranormal (continued) These readings are combined

relying on light. Spirits absorb any

and each combination of

surrounding heat sources and can

readings corresponds with a

easily be identified with a flir. K2

database of words. This makes

meters measure electromagnetic

the Ovilus able to translate a

fields that spirits draw in to use as

spirits' words through

energy to make their

a voice recorder.

apparition form. In a

Sometimes spirits

way, Randy and his

follow you around

team provides

silently throughout the

therapeutic services to

investigation. Their

spirits. They give them a

presence can be

chance to speak out

picked up by a flir or

while treating them with

k2 meters. Flir stands

respect and giving them

for 'forward looking

empathy. The best way

infrared' it picks up infrared

to draw out spirits is by asking them

radiation from heat sources to

questions. Many of the questions the

create a picture. During

team asks spirits are their names,

investigations when it's dark a flir

how they died, why are they still here,

can help distinguish shapes by

and if they are ready to move on.

detecting temperature rather than

They generally provide yes or no Fiction by S t e p h a n i e P i z z o l a t t o

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Bayou Paranormal (continued) answers that can be heard on

one they may turn to Randy and his

voice recorders. Spirits are not

team for help. A man whose mother

always poltergeist out to harm the

unexpectedly passed away was

living. If anything, they want to

experiencing strange noises in his

contact us in a peaceful matter,

home. He suspected them to be his

but are unable to do so without

mother, but had no way confirm it.

scaring us. Since they are

Randy and his team came in and did

invisible they make themselves

a full fledge investigation for free. As

known through eerie sounds,

it turns out it was the man's mother -

chilly contact, and occasionally

she wanted her son to start taking

moving or knocking over objects.

care of his family. From that day on

It is rare when a spirit makes

he changed his life for the better and

themselves visible. If they do they

took better care of his kids. Perhaps

typically appear as glowing orbs.

the spirit of the mother needed to

As described by Randy, they are

give her final words to her son before

entities who have been unable to

she could pass on. Not all spirits are

pass on because they feel

friendly or seeking out relief. On

unresolved. Their services have

occasion the team has encountered

also benefited the living. When

demonic spirits. Randy recommends

people are still in mourning an

never provoking any spirits

unexpected passing of a loved

especially if they are unfriendly.

Fiction by S t e p h a n i e P i z z o l a t t o

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Bayou Paranormal (continued) Another member made this

demonic possession. The best way to

mistake when he dared a spirit to

repel demonic spirits is to carry holy

scare him during an investigation.

water. As a safety precaution the

He got more than he asked for

team performs prayers before and

when a camera flew and hit him

after an investigation. They pray to

in the head. Ouija

the archangel

boards are a big no-

Michael to help

no, using one is only

protect them from

asking for trouble. If

any unknown

you anger a spirit they

demonic entities

may leave burning

that may haunt

trinity scratches on your body, the

the investigation sight. Prayers are

mark of a demon, as seen in the

also performed to ask for a spirits'

image below of trinity marks on

blessing to be on their ground. Then

Star's back. The worse possible

they pray again at the end of the

situation is possession, even if

investigation to help prevent any

they are momentarily, could

lingering spirits from following them

endanger a person or team

home. They also perform prayers to

member. On rare circumstances

help a spirit move on. Those who

a priest may be brought into an

experienced the passing of a spirit

investigation to repel or remove

say that it feels like releasing a large Fiction by S t e p h a n i e P i z z o l a t t o

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Bayou Paranormal (continued) large breath of air after holding it

the end of the investigation Randy

for hours. Despite their spiritual

sat on an old couch to request the

protection, Randy's family still

young spirit to stay behind. When he

believes he is prying into the after

got back up he didn't feel cold any

life. They consider his practice

more and the k2 meter would only go

dangerous and invasive in the

off when it was on the couch. They

affairs of spirits and demons.

performed a prayer to help the young

Lingering spirits may never be

spirit cross over, but it was

able to rest in peace. Even

unsuccessful. Randy still hopes that

children's spirits may stay aside

some day she will pass over to finally

for the rest of their after life. One

rest in peace. It's assumed that she

of the on campus investigations

still lingers the old torn down

Randy has conducted included

campus. Randy has done over 250

an old campus in Hessmer

investigations in his life time. He

Louisiana. A small spirit no taller

doesn't always find spirits lurking

than a five year old stuck around

around every corner. Sometimes a

Randy throughout the

scary old building is simply an

investigation. The left side of this

abandon building with mice in the

thigh stayed cold and his k2

walls. But all the dust, sweat, and

meter would go off when held on

reviewing countless hours of audio

the left side of his body. Towards

and video recordings make it all

Fiction by S t e p h a n i e P i z z o l a t t o

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Bayou Paranormal worth it. Being able to help people, both living and ghostly, and the sense of adventure is enough to keep Randy going. He sees no end to it in the future, in fact he only sees it becoming better. He anticipates a larger community of people will become interested with new and better equipment developed.

Fiction by S t e p h a n i e P i z z o l a t t o

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Broken Things He threw a plate at the wall. It

apologize or clean up the mess. He

wasn’t unexpected. The air

didn’t even let her voice any of the

surrounding the room had been

questions that rested on the tip of

tense the moment he arrived late

her tongue. He just left, a brief

for dinner. And the anger that

mixture of shame and regret flashing

accompanied him had been so

across his features as he went. That’s

potent, she could almost feel it

the thing about giving into anger,

seep into her own skin. It twisted

she mused. When you let it consume

his face, causing him to look like

you, there’s rarely ever enough time

a smaller version of their father.

to think before you acted. In Darren’s

She’d done nothing to soothe

case, his anger-induced impulsive

him at the time, only waited for

act for the evening involved

the inevitable explosion. He

throwing around her dinner plates.

didn’t disappoint. After his

She wondered what hers would be.

outburst, he immediately pushed

Wordlessly, she got up from her seat

back his chair and made his way

and began sweeping up the mess.

towards the lone couch in the

Once the last bits of ceramic had

living room. He made no effort to

been disposed of, she stood back a

Fiction by J a s m i n e B r o u s s a r d

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Broken Things moment longer to give him a

could only see the back of his head,

chance to cool off. The silence

she knew for certain he wore a

that followed was heavy,

hateful sneer. “Had a bad day.”

weighed down by her brother’s

“Really? Hadn’t noticed.” Banter.

anger and her own wariness of

That was what they needed. She half

the situation. The tense air

expected him to respond with some

stretched and held, until her

sarcastic retort of his own. Or at least

untouched food became cold

a childish insult telling her she was an

and the rays of sunlight filtering

idiot. But the air was too thick, too

through her window dimmed.

tense for it to disperse that easily.

When she finally did speak, her

After another stretch of silence, she

voice was timid and unsure. She

hesitantly walked over towards the

felt like she was trapped in a

other side of the couch, peering

room with a dangerous animal.

down to catch a glimpse of her

And maybe she was. What’s

brother’s face. He was distant and

wrong?” she finally asked. She

unseeing. “Hey, really, what

heard him laugh incredulously in

happened?” His jaw clenched twice

response. And, even though she

before he responded. “You know

Fiction by J a s m i n e B r o u s s a r d

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Broken Things what’s funny?” It wasn’t a

hoped were counseling answers. “I

question he expected her to

know that, but—” she started, but

answer, and even if he did, she

paused briefly before deciding on

wouldn’t know how. “I didn’t kill

something entirely different to say.

anyone.” Confusion marred her

“They know that. They’re just

features as she sat down next to

looking for someone to unload their

him. “What?” “I didn’t kill our

anger on. It will pass, Darren.” It was

mother,” he stated bluntly and

easier to explain away everyone

she winced involuntarily. “Or

else’s doubt in him than to explain

anyone else. And—and those

her own. “Why does it have to be

other two morons that put

me, then?” She watched as one of

themselves in the way for her

his hands rose to clutch a fistful of

didn’t die because of me. I didn’t

his hair. He held on to the black

do anything!” A twinge of anger

strands so hard, she thought he

struck her at his callous remark,

might simply wrench it all out. “I

but she pushed the emotion

didn’t know he would—I didn’t

down easily enough. Instead, she

know.” You should have, she

tried to sooth him with what she

thought. They’d been warned about

Fiction by J a s m i n e B r o u s s a r d

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Broken Things their father countless of times—

the story of Darren’s past with their—

how violent he could be. For her,

his father. She didn’t even stand a

the warnings didn’t really matter.

chance trying to understand it all.

Their father barely played a role

“Calm down, Darren,” she pleaded.

in her life growing up and, after

Somewhere along the way he’d

their parents’ divorce, he ceased

gotten up from the couch and

to exist to her completely. Her

started pacing around the room. His

little brother, on the other hand,

movements were jerky and

refused to believe the warnings.

uncoordinated. His fists were tightly

He shared fonder memories with

balled in his hair. And his face was

the man (he was the little boy

contorted in a mixture of pure anger

their father always wanted, after

and deep hurt. He looked crazed.

all). And to Darren, that man—

“None of those people are worth

that murderer—was still his

your anger. Just sit, take a breath,

father. Helplessly, she watched as

and calm down. Please.” When he

her brother fell apart. There were

turned to stare at her, her breath

so many intricate pieces

hitched at the sight of his glassy

decorating the puzzle that told

eyes. He was trying to hold back Fiction by J a s m i n e B r o u s s a r d

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Broken Things tears—from anger or from

“The taunts are only going to get

sadness, she wasn’t sure. “Calm

worse, you know.” “Don’t think like

down? How can I calm down? Do

that,” she sighed. “The entire town

you know what they’ve been

doesn’t blame you. It’s just some of

saying to me?” They’re not

the ones immediately affected by it

saying anything, she wanted to

are still… coping with the disaster.”

say. But that wouldn’t be true.

“It’s been a year.” “Well, are you

Family members of the two other

over it yet?” The response came out

victims—her mother’s best

automatically and she didn’t quite

friends—had made a scapegoat

mean for it to sound so biting.

out of him. And, as terrible as it

Unease slowly crept through her as

was, she couldn’t blame them.

she watched him stop pacing to

He’d been the one to let their

stare down at her. But for once, the

estranged father in the house,

heat of his anger wasn’t enough to

after all. It was awhile before

deter her. Staring straight ahead, she

either of them spoke again. And

eyed her reflection in the darkness of

it was, unsurprisingly, Darren who

the TV screen before she continued,

decided to break the silence first.

ignoring Darren’s glare altogether.

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Broken Things “Look, I won’t just pretend that

simply, as if that would end the

everyone is out to get you. That’s

conversation. At that, she felt that

not healthy, Darren. You need to

spark of anger again. It followed her

talk to someone—someone other

as she pushed herself from the couch,

than me. You’ll see that there are

whispering in her ear to do

more people around you who

something, something, something,

care than there are—” He

but never telling her what. “No, we’re

stepped back abruptly and

not done talking about this,” she

walked to the other side of the

snapped. Her words came out bitter

living room, as if to try and

and biting, and once she started, she

distance himself from her. “What

couldn’t stop them from tumbling

do you know? You’re not with me

out. “Your pity-parties are getting

all the time.” “I’m with you

old, Darren. You want everyone to

enough of the time,” she

stop treating you like a ticking time

reasoned. “You’re not thinking

bomb? Then stop acting like you’re

straight, but—” “Just shut up,

ready to follow in our dear father’s

alright? I’m done talking about

footste—” Suddenly he was livid. In

this with you,” he growled

rushed, angry strides, he grabbed her

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Broken Things by the shoulders and pushed her

stepped away from her. Her head

—hard—against the bare walls of

raced and the ever-increasing pain

her apartment. An outraged gasp

shooting down her back did nothing

escaped her lips then—because

to help. She should have just kicked

he’d never put his hands on her

him out right then and there, she

before—and her breath held as

mused. He was almost a legal adult,

her body tensed. “Stop trying to

he could manage on his own, right?

be my therapist,” he continued

It would have been the more logical

harshly, his hands digging into

thing to do, surely. But a large part

her shoulders. “You don’t know

of her couldn’t. She knew this violent

what you’re talking about.” The

person as her brother. Even when

more he spoke, the less angry he

she caught glimpses of their father,

seemed. He just sounded tired,

he was still her brother. So, choking

like he was reprimanding a small

back a sob, she pushed herself off of

child that had just done

the wall and made her way towards

something disobedient. “Let go

the only real family she had left. She

of me,” she replied shakily.

felt like she was walking on the edge

“Now.” He scoffed as he

of a cliff, waiting to be pushed off at

Fiction by J a s m i n e B r o u s s a r d

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Broken Things any second as she approached.

All that was left to do now was wait

When she neared him, he

for the inevitable fallout.

stopped his pacing and looked down at her, but did nothing else to stop or encourage her. Once in front of him—eyes downcast and hands fidgeting by her sides —she slowly looked up at her brother with what she hoped was forgiveness, before cautiously leaning in to hug him. The gesture was tense and uncomfortable and did nothing to ease her worries, even when she felt him relax. “I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly very calm and composed. A heavy silence fell between them again.

Fiction by J a s m i n e B r o u s s a r d

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The Law Within the Child As I walked into the auditorium at

I was not in a dream. January 6, 2014,

Mississippi Gulf Coast Community

was the first day of my Paralegal

College, everything and everyone

Technology Course. The beaming of the

around me began to move in slow

fluorescent lights, the chatter from the

motion like I had taken the blue pill

other students about their experiences

from the Matrix. The speaker began

with law just really made me feel like a

to ask everyone to be seated, but his

kid at Christmas! I was nervous and

words began flowing out of his

excited at the same time, anticipating the

mouth like molasses, slow and

next surprise which was the arrival of

long.The students seemed to not

my professor. Mrs. Starks walked into

have a care in the world as they

the classroom and she was as round as a

carelessly began to take their seats. I

beach ball. Her short frame was dressed

sat down in my seat, my body felt

in very stylish clothing, her hair neatly

warm as though I was wrapped in

cut in a sassy bob, and her nails were

my grandmother’s homemade

freshly done with French tips. She had a

afghan. I could not believe I was

very pleasant and warm face, something

actually fulfilling my desire and

I wasn’t expecting. The very first thing

going to college to study law. At that

that she said when she stood in front of

very moment, I knew it was real and

the room was, “Welcome to the

Fiction by L e A n d r e a n D a n d r i d g e

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The Law Within the Child Introduction of Law!” At the age of

liked how they would secretly hide their

seven, little girls either wanted to be

family issues, because I could definitely

princesses, play with Barbies, or play

relate to that. My mother and father had

dress up. Well I wasn’t your average

divorced when I was three years old. My

seven year old. My cousin and I

father was in the Army, and at that time

would play Rescue 911, cops and

he was fighting in the on-going war

robbers, and when we would pretend

called Desert Storm. My father re-married

to be adults, we would both be

and my mother began dating my sister’s

lawyers. That was our dream! The

father. He was very strange. He reminded

very first time I could remember

me of Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. He seemed

watching the television series In the

as though he had multiple personalities. I

Heat of the Night, I loved the

never liked him from the beginning. I had

excitement of questioning witnesses

an instant dislike for him like the smell of

and putting evidence together. I

dirty diapers. At times, I felt like the war

loved how confident the lawyers

was right in our home. January 27, 1995,

were and how they wanted justice

after midnight, the sky was still. There

for their client. They lived and

was an eerie feeling in the air and the

breathed the law as though it was

cold temperatures added to the feeling.

their only source of survival. I even

My mother’s boyfriend stormed into our

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The Law Within the Child house yelling and cursing at her. My

and forth and he was grabbing her like

mother quickly said with fear in her

an angry father would his child. They

eyes and strength in her voice,

continued to argue and I began to walk

“Wake your sister up and get in the

toward the profane language and loud

car!” I immediately did what I was

screams of anger, fear, and resentment.

told like a faithful dog to his owner.

By the time I reached the kitchen where

My sister and I quickly got into the

they were, my mother’s boyfriend

car. It was a little cold inside,

grabbed a knife and stabbed my mother

because we had pajamas on, but it

in the chest right in front of me! I could

slowly began to warm up as the car’s

not believe my eyes! I was seven years

heater began to blow out warm air.

old witnessing the murder of the woman

As my sister and I waited for our

who gave birth to me and raised me. As I

mother to join us, she began to fall

gazed at the bright red blood on the floor

asleep. The eerie feeling began to

and the blood that created ty-dye on the

creep into the cracks of the window

now murder’s shirt, the only thought in

of the car. I knew something was not

my head was to run and get help.

right inside of our house. As I

Realizing what he had done, he began to

walked into the house, my mother

scream in complete agony, “I’m sorry, it

and her boyfriend were arguing back

was an accident!” I ran out of the house,

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The Law Within the Child barefoot and in pajamas down the

words like a broken record I replied, “Sh,

dark cold street called Hayes Street.

she’s de… she’s dead, my, my mom! He

Not thinking about my sister who

killed her!” Standing behind him was my

was asleep in the car or the bottle

grandmother who heard what I had said.

glass and rocks that were piercing

She quickly disappeared into the darkness

my feet. I was thinking about getting

like a thief in the night to make phone

help. As I arrived at my

calls to my uncles and my aunt who

grandmother’s house, panting like a

arrived moments later. Everything was

thirsty dog, I began ringing the

happening so quickly like a well-

doorbell frantically while yelling and

rehearsed movie screen. Unfortunately, it

screaming at the same time, “Granny

wasn’t a movie. It was the reality of my

open the door please! He killed her!”

life. “Ok everyone, we will now go over

I could hear hard, quick steps

the rules and procedures of questioning

moving toward the front door like a

both parties to collect evidence for a

giant wearing boots. My grandfather

case”, said Mrs. Starks with excitement in

appeared at the door with fear in his

her voice as though we were about to

eyes and concern in his voice, “Slow

begin a real interrogation with the

down baby girl and tell me what’s

accused and the accuser. The students

going on?” Cracking and skipping

began to get excited like kindergarteners

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The Law Within the Child right before the recess bell rang. As

seven years old ma’am.” Surprised by

we began to discuss the investigation

my answer she quickly began to write

process and how the plaintiff,

down what I had said, appearing as

defendant and witnesses were

though she was scribbling because her

questioned, I began to get butterflies

fingers moved so fast. She proceeded

in my stomach. I was both nervous

with her next question. With concern in

and excited about learning how to

her voice and anticipation in her eyes she

properly proceed with the subject

asked, “Can you tell me everything that

matter. I started thinking about the

you saw at your mommy’s house?”

day I was questioned by police about

Before I answered, I paused for a brief

the murder of my mother. As I sat

moment. I began to think about the

down on the floral print chair in my

episodes of the television show In the

grandmother’s formal living room, I

Heat of the Night, and how telling the

could feel the eyes of the police

truth will lock up the bad people. How

officers piercing through my skin

justice would be served and how my

like nails. “How old are you

testimony will put a murderer behind

sweetheart?”, asked the dark haired

bars. I began to get excited about how

female officer. I confidently replied

the law has rules and that a person was

with a serious look on my face, “I’m

innocent until proven guilty. The law

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The Law Within the Child inside of me spoke loudly from

groomed with a nice suit and tie on. He

within saying that my mother’s

was a tall Caucasian man with strong

boyfriend was guilty until proven

facial features. He also had a leather brief

innocent, but there was not a shred

case in his right hand that had lots of

of evidence in the world that would

important paperwork inside. He sat the

prove his innocence. Several weeks

brief case down and said hello to all of us.

later, it was time for trial. I was

He opened the brief case and asked me

neatly dressed in a navy blue dress

very politely to come and sit next to him.

with a crisp white collar. I had two

He was ready for war. He was ready just

big, navy blue ribbons on my neatly

like I was. We wanted justice to be

twisted pig tails. The patent leather

served. He began to go over with me

Mary Jane shoes on my feet were

what would happen in the court room and

glistening as the lights from the

the questions that would be asked. I was

lawyer’s office shined on them. My

excited! At that moment, I knew exactly

grandmother, grandfather, and I sat

what my passion was and that was to

in the office until the lawyer arrived.

become a lawyer. I wanted to help others

When he walked in, his presence

with legal situations and give the best

radiated through the room. It was

advice on how to go about handling them.

confident and strong. He was neatly

I wanted justice to be served. I craved it!

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The Law Within the Child When class was over and Mrs. Starks had begun to dismiss the students, she noticed I was still sitting down gathering my things. As I began to leave, she stopped me as my foot hit the door. With a soft, yet serious tone in her voice like a mother speaking to a child she said, “I can see you truly have a passion for law.” I smiled and put my head down for a split second and replied, “When I was a child, the law was inside of me and now that I have the opportunity to apply it to society, I’m ready to share it with the world!”

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