StayGold Volume II, Issue I (Winter '24)

an art & literary magazine

STAYGOLD

Charles F. Patton Middle School Volume II Issue I

Copyright ©2024 Patton Art & Literary Magazine Staff Copyright © of each work belongs to the representaive artist or writer All rights reserved. All works are copyright of their respective creators as indicated herein and are reproduced here with permission.

STAYGOLD is a public forum for student expression produced by the students of Charles F. Patton Middle School.

Published and printed in the United States of America.

Charles F. Patton Middle School Spring - Volume II - Issue I

front cover art Mahima Basker

back cover art Keira Kearns

5 Anishka Kothari 6 Anya Dhargalkar 7 Abby Streitel 8 Carly DelCampo 9 Charis John 10 Nanak Kumar 11 Faith Oexner 12 Grace Du 13 Keira Kearns 14 Serfina Jackson 15 Kate Li 16 Giuliana Lamberto 17 Morgan Ballenger

Yelaine Zhou 18 Carolina Solana 19 Daluchi Ikeme 20 Kush Aggarwal 21 Mahima Basker 22 Effie Chong 23 EJ Slavik 24 Hausten Grabowsky 25 Isabella McClain 26 Elsie Armer 27 Risha Das 28 Estelle Bazzana 29

Anishka Kothari

Diversity

Billions of people live on this planet we call home We are different By the color of our skin Our religions Our traditions Our wild ambitions Our abilities And Our facilities We are as different as can be But we don’t have to be We can be united Stick together like glue Black white and brown too We are all human So let’s take the next step Hand in Hand Side by side We walk And we stride We won’t stay seated We will stand up We are family Filled with Diversity.

“I love to smell the fresh winter breeze while strolling outside my house. I love to read books of all genres other than Science Fiction.”

5

Anya Dhargalkar

“I love to dance, make art, graphic design, reading, and my dog Luna.”

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Abby Streitel

“I love dogs and animals and I enjoy playing the guitar loudly in my basement! I also enjoy hanging out with friends and playing sports! Go Eagles!”

7

Staring at my computer As it runs hot Missing her laugh I want to be her friend So I try and try try again But it hurts so much to Get reminded of us than She has new friends I’ve been replaced There’s nothing left to do I’ve been erased

Replaced

My hearts in pain And these tears fall I even thought I almost had it all When I sit here in thought My mind goes loose And I start losing it all

Carly DelCampo

When you can’t see me All I do Is sit in the dark Hurting so bad And falling apart

The girl that once cared No longer needs me So I hold myself Thinking I’ll never leave me Dreaming she was with me now Is like taking an unwanted Bow Even though I dream of her every night.

I can’t help thinking this isn’t right.

As time passes I think to myself if these feelings are true and right or maybe they are out of SPITE

8

“I enjoy car rides at night, drawing at untold hours, and making poems about my ex-friends. I like thinking about how I could have changed the outcomes in my life, writing stories out of the plots I think of, and daydreaming about what it could be like if these stories came true.”

8

The Wolves

Charis John

Deep in the woods, a sound is echoing from the trees. It whispers softly, eerily, but so beautifully. The sound keeps growing louder. As it gets closer, it forms the sound of a howl. Then a shape emerges. Not one but many. This is a wolf pack--a pack full of family, and friends.

At first, they may seem intimidating--the sharp claws and teeth, the gleaming amber eyes, the fact that they are excellent hunters. But something about their deep gaze seems to draw you in. The eyes change. Instead of sharp, cold amber eyes, they become soft, warm, golden ones. You can’t help but feel that wolves are not vicious creatures, but devoted and intelligent pack members caring for and providing for their young.

The pups playfully chase each other in the snow, dashing here and there, spraying their pack members with snow. The pup’s mom, the female alpha, nips them, gently but sternly. This is to teach them respect, an essential skill to have in the pack. The alpha pair raise their tails for attendtion. The pack gathers around them. They signal to the pack to head north, back into the woods from which they came. As they disappear into the forest, you are filled with a deep sense of awe and a newfound sense of respect.

er an exc

pt

“I love to read, watch TV, and play with dogs (sadly, I do not have one). I love animals and wants to be a zoologist someday.”

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Nanak Kumar “I love reading, drawing, and spicy food... especially ghost pepper chips!’

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er an exc

pt

Utensils & Dishes vs. Dishwasher: The Clean War “There are a lot of us this time, Dishwasher, says a little Fork. “Everybody in. Hurry, we don’t want to keep him waiting!” Dishwasher rumbles, agitated. Why is this load so big? Why are there so many dishes that need to get cleaned, and why now? Every day it seems, I’m used! I can’t take it anymore! “This is the last time!” he shrieks.

“The last time, you hear!? This is the last time you use me!”

The Utensils and Dishes gather in the Kitchen for a meeting. The Utensils are divided into Forks, Knives, and Spoons, then their subgroups. The Dishes are divided similarly; they include plates, bowls, and drinkware. Cookware does not want to be involved in the War, so they do not attend the meeting, nor are they invited. The Cloths will work as cushions for very fragile dishes and utensils.

Rack One and Rack Two meet with Dishwater to work out their strategy for the war. Dishwasher Basker is Dishwasher’s henchbox.

“Boss, how will we win the War if the Utensils and Dishes greatly outnumber us?” Dishwasher Basket asks.

“Basket! Do not questions your master! Do not even think about the possibility of defeat! We refused to sign the Treaty of Perpetual Servitude; we will not submit again! We have decided to go to war, and though our enemies greatly outnumber us, we will defeat and drown many of them. Then I will become their ruler!” he laughs maniacally.

Then, he shrieks, “Detergent of the Dishwasher! Fill the space so I am prepared to form a flood in the Kitchen!”

Faith Oexner

“I like playing video games, writing mystery books, building & rebuilding LEGO sets, playing Minecraft, drawing, non-fiction writing class, eating cheese, & playing with my gray & white tabby cat, Ringo, who believes that homework is delicious. But not all simultaneously, of course.

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Grace Du

“I like being on my phone, just like everyone else my age.

But, thankfully, I know how to get off it when needed. Phew!”

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Keira Kearns

“I love to collect and hoard the weirdest things such as oragami stars, random rocks that I find on the ground, and last but not least, random scraps of cardboard.”

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Serafina Jackson “I like making shapes in computer programs and I enjoy downloading new computer programs to make better shapes. Currently, I am experiementing with making 3D shapes in special computer programs.

My favorite shape is a triangle. My least favorite shape is a cube.”

14

Kate Li

“I like to play tennis, draw, write, and read. My favorite animals are hamsters, and I have two named Chubby and Bagel. What’s your favorite animal?”

15

Giuliana Lamberto Winter

It was Winter and I heard the bells ringing that today is winter. The people were wearing warm clothes,and the animals were gone. It is that time of year when Santa is here.

As I was writing to Santa, I was snuggled up in my coat waiting for Christmas to come. The days go by and everyone waits for the bells to ring when there are five more days until Christmas. That waiting finally came and the bells have rung for the five days until Christmas.

Today my family and I went to the store to make sure we have everything we need for Christmas.

We got all our favorite foods, drinks, and decorations that we needed. Then we hung up last minute decorations all around the house . Everything was ready for the party.

Today was Christmas Eve and everyone was so excited for Christmas tomorrow. All the stores were filled with people doing last minute gift shopping. The air was filled with Christmas spirit. My family and I went for a drive before the Christmas Eve party. All the decorations were so pretty.

When we got back it was time for the party. The guests arrived for the party, and everyone was here to celebrate. The party was great and filled with cheer. I got to see my friends and family.

The party was over and it was time to go to sleep for Santa to come.

That night we made sure everything was ready for Santa. We read our favorite book as one of our family traditions. Then we went to bed. I was so excited for tomorrow.

The next morning we walked downstairs and Santa came. I got everything I wanted and even more. But the best thing I got was family and we cherished the day together.

“I like playing soccer, and as I play and watch on the sideline I am paying attention to what is going on so when I play I knows who to mark and what I can do to score a goal.”

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Morgan Ballenger 11/1/23, 6:35 PM

IMG_0688.HEIC

“I enjoy reading fantasy adventure novels and building random things. I am very inspired by my brother and all of his drawings. The highlight of my year is traveling to South America. I will also write a gargantuan book one day.”

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Yelaine Zhou

Changelings

rpt

e an exc

I feel something different about this one. This boy. I know it’s a boy. I can feel the waves of pain and sorrow and regret coming from him, like the tides of an ocean.

He turns, walking toward a light that somehow shines bright in the gloomy darkness. It seemed like there would be no light in such a dark place. But here it was, just as bright as any lantern would be.

A lantern, a red lantern, hung in the middle of the clearing. Surrounding the lantern, on all sides, were six stone posts, each a different color: Blue, red, green, brown, white, and yellow. The six elements. The Brown one, for Earth, was cracked down the middle, as if something had made it sag and die.

I glanced at the Insain who had led me here. He pointed. Somehow. And the thing he pointed at was the Lightning Yellow post.

I walked, slowly, towards the golden post. As soon as I entered its light zone, it felt as if it was pulling me towards it.

Out of instinct, I drew my spikes and placed them gently on the column. A glow started rising from the broken Brown column.

Suddenly, the leaves rustled. Molli stepped out of the trees. But… her eyes were glowing. Red. Bright red. The color of flame.

She did the same as me, placing her soul weapon (The weapon used most) onto the column, just on the red post.

Two boys pushed out of the forest, one with glowing green eyes and one with blinding white eyes. The green-eyed boy stepped up to the leaf-green post, placing a spear on it. The white-eyed boy placed a stake on the ‘Air’ column. One last girl emerged from the trees, with ocean-blue eyes. A three-tonged spear, a trident-like weapon, was in her hand. She placed it on the last post.

A crack! Split the silence. Not a breaking-open type of crack. It was a healing crack. The Brown Post moved, automatically, and slid together, whole again. A screeching sound rose from the Insain. Instantly, all our eyes turned normal, and we turned to look at the creature. It was shivering, but not cold.

His hair turned a taffy kind of color, and the boy’s skin turned a pale tan. His eyes turned a warm brown, and clothes suddenly appeared on him. He collapsed. I dove for him, catching him.

And around the forest, fighting stopped. A boy was kneeling before an Insain, but right before the Insain swiped, it froze. Its hair stayed black, but its eyes turned blue, with its skin turning pale. The two boys recognized each other. They were long friends that had been separated by the evil curse.

“I love to read and write. I like to spend my spare time just gazing off into space and thinking about how I will write my stories and books. I also like to play volleyball, violin, and piano.”

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Carolina Solana “I thoroughly enjoy eating donuts and singing in the shower. I have trouble with making decisions and waking up in the morning. The one thing that moves me out of bed is seeing the beauty of the sunrise.”

19 19

I didn’t want to stay in a house where I had to pretend that I was still in Pennsylvania and could enjoy my spring break from the comfort of my own home. I didn’t want to stay in a house where I couldn’t shake off a feeling of uneasiness that wouldn’t let go. I was dragged into a world that I had to share with even more people than back home and where bedtime was at 8:00, and I didn’t like it one bit. With the night came nothing better. My mother went to work for the night.

Mom wasn’t here. She always stayed with me when I slept.

Mom wasn’t here. She always comforted me when it was dark in the night and I was scared.

Mom wasn’t here. I went into bed and tried my best to go to sleep and forget.

Mom wasn’t here. I couldn’t sleep. Mom wasn’t here. I couldn’t forget. Mom wasn’t here. I could do nothing but lie down as tears poured down my cheeks.

Daluchi Ikeme

I don’t know what it was. The furniture? The walls? The only thing I was aware of was that I was at my little cousin’s house, and it didn’t take long for me to realize: I didn’t want to stay here any longer. I didn’t want to stay in a house miles from my own.

Mom wasn’t here. Mom wasn’t here. Mom wasn’t here.

Whether she would come back from work tomorrow or live miles away for the rest of her days wouldn’t change anything. She was gone tonight as I slept alone in a house miles away from home.

“I asked your Dad, and he said you can stay for a bit longer!”, my cousins giddily exclaimed, spreading the “good news”. After a week of pleading to be back home, the trip not being close to over is exactly what I didn’t want to hear. And I let them know that. I was miserable and fearful. Frustration was right down my alley. However, one thing I knew was that no matter how angry I was with the world, something else I could never stomach was being rude to my younger relatives, so I tried to be as gentle as my anger ould let me be.

Spring Vacation

I hoped I was able to stomach a few more days of this. Others didn’t share this thought process, however.

I told my Mother what happened the next day when she returned. How I felt homesick, my night alone, and everything in between.

This emotional roller coaster I called a vacation gave me misery, fear, frustration, and confusion. I’m not sure if I can ever truly forget what she said next: “Home is where the heart is.”

It planted a tree of suggestion in my heart that said, “Maybe it doesn’t matter how many kilometers, inches, or miles you are away from Pennsylvania. Maybe you can enjoy spring break from the comfort of any house. Maybe that feeling of uneasiness you suffer from isn’t so powerful.” There was something I found out soon after this: It wasn’t. If one would ask me my feelings of this trip, due to one sentence, I wouldn’t continually prattle about the times I first felt homesick or cried myself to sleep at night. I would discuss with them the time I played with a slingshot there or watched a series with my cousins. Due to one sentence, I can confidently say that this trip was one well spent.

If writing this memoir has proved anything to me, it’s two things: Moms are always right and wherever you are in this universe can’t determine a thing about what you can or can’t enjoy. How you decide it affects your experience is your decision.

“I used to have an extreme fear of worms. My biggest fear nowadays is finishing homework on time. I still have not fully grown out of that first fear, though!”

20

“God, is that you?” I’m not religious, but I didn’t think anything could be as bright as that light before, so maybe I’m wrong about this. It seems like he didn’t hear me. I ask louder and feel a pain in my throat. I pause, and the situation dawns on me. This can’t be, I can’t talk! I look at the figure again, my eyes having adjusted to the intensity of the light. I stare at his nametag.

Does God have a nametag? I would think he doesn’t, people pretty much know who he is. Right? I read it and immediately lose all hope. This is great; my lord and savior is some dude named “Carl Miller - Medical Student” dressed in scrubs, not a flowing robe.

The Final Thoughts of the Patient in Room 303

Kush Aggarwal

My eyelids tremble as I force them open; it takes all the strength I have. Almost as soon as my eyes open, I regret it; a bright light cooks my corneas like eggs on a frying pan. I can’t really explain the intensity of the light but try to imagine you’re looking at the sun an inch away from its surface. Out of this bright light, I see a figure emerge.

I look to my left, away from the light. I see a screen displaying some scan of a human body. It displays the cardiovascular system, and I can see a little red heart beating. For this reason, I assume it’s a live scan. I turn my head back to face it forward but then glance at the scan one last time. The head belonging to the body on-screen moves. Hmm... is that... me? I test it by looking away and back at the screen; the head moves again. This is so cool! I can see inside my own body! I analyze the screen and find something startling: I see a small object in my bloodstream.

I look closer at the object and it appears to be blade-shaped. It seems to be floating towards my chest. How would a scalpel get stuck in my bloodstream? No, I can’t get distracted. I have to figure out what this is.

Let’s see, it looks like a scalpel blade or something, which would kinda make sense since we’re in a hospital. I can’t let this reach my heart. I try to get up but I’m strapped down by wires and straps all over; I also have a catheter, so I don’t feel like trying to get that out. I try to scream and flail my limbs around. I still can’t make a noise and it hurts like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I cry and scream futilely, though nobody can hear me. I eventually give up and accept my fate. I’m probably gonna die today.

Well, I might as well try to remember what’s gonna kill me. Let’s see, I was in a car, I think. I was driving pretty fast, because...

I... I was going to someone’s wedding. That’s ironic; while a bond was being made, the bonds of my limbs were being broken. I’m hilarious. Oh yeah, then a semi-truck hit me like a 450-pound linebacker. I think I hit a streetlight or something, and then I must’ve blacked out because now I’m here. I’m lying here with an IV and a catheter. I feel a sharp pain in my chest. The scanner shows that the scalpel is getting close. I can’t believe I’m dying today. There are so many things I haven’t done, though I honestly doubt I would’ve ever gotten them done. I can’t reach a phone, so I can’t let anyone know I’m about to die in about five minutes. Now, I try to relax and prepare for my eternal peace, or, more realistically, prepare to sit underground until the end of my days as a cold, lifeless corpse. I watch my heart rate as the little line goes up and down, up and down, up and down.

My eyes wander and look out a window. I spend the rest of my time looking at the world I’m about to leave. I’m about to leave my entire family, my dog, my friends. I can imagine them crying at my funeral (or at least attending it). I take one last look at the world as my eyes get blurry and a tear rolls down my cheek. My chest feels like it’s being crushed by a boulder, and I start to get cold. My heart rate monitor slows its beeping, and I rest my eyes for the last time.

The last image I will ever see is a bright light searing my eyes, the last place I will ever see is a hospital room, and the last thing I will ever wonder is how a scalpel got to my heart.

“One of my favorite pastimes is endlessly staring at a combination of letters on hundreds of sheets of paper with an author and title. My favorite collection of these sheets of paper is The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien. “ 21

Mahima Basker Sky On those days I’m doing noting, I like to go outside, and lay on the hammock sitting on our deck at home. Lying there, I see everything from a different perspective. I see from the ground.

When you are in this special place, the world looks abstract, unreal.

The sky is impossibly bright, Its blue hen standing out the way that first splash of watercolor stands out on a blank white sheet.

The clouds embellish the vasy sky, seemingly gliding on top of a surface that goes on, stretching out and away forever and ever.

And as I lie there, my head slightly tilted to the side, staring at that huge world that has been hanging over our heads all this time, I think that maybe that magnificense in our world that so many of us seek, maybe it’s all around us, waiting to be found by the right pair of eyes.

“I like to listen to music, read, write, and watch random stuff on Netflix in her free time.

I also enjoy eating blueberries and ‘borrowing’ hand sanitizer from my friends at lunch.”

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Effie Chong I love drawing with different mediums of art.

I was very happy when given the chance to join StayGold.

23

Two Birds

Isabella McClain

“My personal motto is “chill it like a skillet” for the entire point of it rhyming and completely not making any sense. I wish I could sleep all day, but then when I wake up at 11 on weekends I get annoyed. It’s an 8th-grader thing. Or just a me thing. Who knows.”

SUBMIT TO STAYGOLD! Our goal is to publish twice a year. We are interested in your poetry, excerpts from your fiction or non-fiction, photography, drawing, painting...we even accept QR codes of your digital work. Maybe you compose and play original music. Maybe you dance. Maybe you create short videos. Maybe you create sculptures. Whatever it is, if you make it, we’re interested in seeing it and helping you share it. If you’re a creative sort or want to be, we are your people!

Listen for our calls for submissions on Hawk TV or by joining our Canvas page. You can even follow us on Instagram so you know when we are accepting creative work!

Hausten Grawbowsky I am a pretty quiet kid, but I enjoy making music and art. I really enjoy spending time with cherished ones, and I do not know what I’ll do when I grow up.

I do not mind that.

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EJ Slavik

“I enjoy being outside in the woods and collecting unique bird feathers. I enjoy the simple things in life.”

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Elsie Armer “I am creative, friendly, and thoughtful and I like to crochet stuffed animals and draw either doodles or realistic drawings of stuff. Last year, I won a creativity award in school!”

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Risha Das “I have been drawing since I was little, As the years have gone by I loved and practiced art. I took many art classes and collected a lot art supplies to continue my obsession with art.”

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Estelle Bazzana

t

The Hunted an excerp

Nina quietly tiptoed downstairs, feeling the ice cold wind blow on her face, stinging her eyes. She blinked and crept outside. The sky was dark, and the moon barely shone. Nina wandered into the backyard, feeling the prickly grass under her bare feet. She heard a soft growling noise and grinned. Good, she’s awake. She thought and reached out her hand toward Cerberuscerberus. The three-headed dog licked her hand eagerly and growled again.

“Shh,” Nina whispered, glancing at her house. “Don’t wake Dad and Mom up.” Nina had been hiding Mila in her backyard from her parents, knowing what would happen if she showed them her cerberus. Mila’s eyes were a mix between shades of blue, and sparkled like stars. She had warm gray fur, and every one of her heads smiled.

“Tomorrow is the big morning,” Nina whispered to her. “Hundreds of hunters will try to come and find you. After all, you’re the last of your kind.” Mila whimpered, and Nina rested her hand on her side and stroked her long fur.

“I’ll try to protect you, I promise.”

Nina sat down and rested her back against Mila. “I heard that the fiercest hunter of them all has a daughter. Poor girl, I wonder how it would feel to have your Dad hunting endangered animals.” Nina felt a cold breeze slip by, and she rose to her feet.

“I have to go.” She leaned forward and gingerly scratched Mila behind her ears on her first head. “I’ll be back in the morning to give you breakfast. Stay hidden and if my parents come, hide behind the shed.” Nina pointed to the creamy colored shed ahead. After kissing her goodnight, she ran back inside and closed the front door quietly. A light flicked on in the living room making Nina jump, her eyes widening.

“Nina?”

Her mother’s voice was rough, as if she were angry that she was woken up.

“Uh, Mom I was just–” Nina began, but her mother interrupted.

“I know you have a cerberus in our backyard, Nina.” She paused, pushed her glasses up her nose and went on sternly, “A cerberus is a three headed wolf, Nina. It’s dangerous!”

“I know, I’m sorry but Mila is endangered!” Nina protested.

“You don’t understand, Nina. Your father is–” A groan interrupted her mother’s voice. Nina turned around to see her father, dressed in his pajamas.

“Why is everyone awake?

Nina, get back to bed...”

Nina lowered her clouded eyes and ran back to her room. She shut the door quietly and cast a glance out the window, which led to a view of the backyard. Mila wasn’t there. Nina exhaled, tucked a strand of chestnut brown hair behind her ear and crawled into her bed.

Nina’s eyes fluttered open when she heard loud banging, and thundering footsteps sounding in the distance. Nina leapt off her bed and raced downstairs to the kitchen.

“Nina,” snapped her mother. “Quick, show me where this pet is so we can hide it.” Nina cast a glance toward the backyard and nodded. She grabbed her mother’s pale hand and led her into the backyard. Mila was waiting, her three pairs of eyes glittering with fear.

“I like writing and even have my own long book series. I spend most of my time reading and eating. And yes, it’s at the same time.

Having a good snack while reading a good book is the way I like to do it!

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Ms. Alexa Gutter Soon after I was able to write, I started writing poetry! I minored in Creative Writing in college, and continue to be inspired by poets of both Staff Advisor

the past and the present. I was the poet laureate of Bucks County, Pennsylvania in 2013, and my poetry has recently appeared in The River Heron Review, Glassworks Magazine, and Literary Mama. My first collection of poetry was published through Finishing Line Press this year..

Julian Worries, Age 7 Whether or not coins always land in fountains. The possibility that wishes don’t come true. A wish to live forever might come true. Being alone at the end of the world. Being alone in a bedroom in a house full of people. Being alone in an arcade. Touching the thin wrist-skin of the wrong mother. A mother being wrong. Running out of time or pretzels. The ice house running out of mint-chip before we arrive. Losing one game.

Losing every game after that for an entire lifetime. A glass of milk that might expire any second. An indestructible pinata. A pinata that cracks instantly but on the other side of the yard. The thought that the bus might never come. The possibility of bus drivers forgetting. Exoplanets, suns past our sun--infinite uncertainties beyond what is already inscrutable. Sinking to the bottom of the pool and staying there. Those pointy dunce hats from a long long time ago and what did wearing one feel like.

Mr. Brian Kelley Staff Advisor My comics have appeared in the literary magazine Hobart, on the website Graphic Medicine, and the comics anthologies, On What Matters and Echo (where my art is featured on the cover). Recently, my work has been shown at the DaVinci Art Alliance in Philadelphia and the Main Line Art Center in Haverford.

I am working on a graphic novel about professional wrester Maurice Tillet as well a nonfiction comic about cancer.

Giuliana Lamberto

@pattonstaygold