2021 Pawprint Literary Magazine

PAWPRINTS LITERARY MAGAZINE, VOLUME Art -Elliot Francolla

Art -Annie Thompson

Pawprints Plant High School Volume 1* 2415 S Himes Ave Tampa, FL 33629 Phone: 813-272-3033

Editor’s Letter Dear Reader, Welcome to another edition of PawPrints, H.B. Plant High School’s little-known literary magazine! It’s been far too long since we saw you last, however, we’re beyond excited to have restored this project in such a crazy year—one where connection and collaboration, however remote, have proved to be indispensable aspects of our being.

Our foremost goal in publishing this annual assortment of student work is to underscore the school’s resilient creative community and critical role it maintains within Plant’s walls.

Literature and art serve a purpose broader than we can imagine, and, though some of us will be graduating within the next few weeks, we hope that Plant’s welcoming environment for the arts will continue to flourish as the years go on.

The ’20-’21 PawPrints staff selected musings as the theme for this year’s magazine.

Through the following collection of poetry, prose, and art, we intend to highlight the imperative nature of thought and reflection in a year such as this one, beset with uncertainty.

We’d like to take this opportunity to thank the remarkable students who submitted their works for our consideration this year. This undertaking would be wholly impossible without your hard work and dedication and we know you will continue to inspire in all your future artistic endeavors.

Thank you for reading and enjoy!

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Table of

5

writing

August 23, 1930, found poetry Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

Red, poetry 6 Rachel Bell, class of 2023 8

Diary of Marie Antoinette: Naivete, poetry

Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

Diary of Marie Antoinette: Guillotine, poetry 9

31

Smoke, poetry Anonymous

Legacy, poetry 32 Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021 32

The Toss, poetry Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

33 What Fire Taught the Monster, poetry Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

Falling, poetry Rachel Bell, class of 2023

34

Merry Minutes Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

13

Ship in a Bottle, poetry Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

36

Servant of Ptah Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

14

Tom, short story Shannan Adams, class of 2022

38

Love Tastes Like, poetry Reagan Brannigan, class of 2022

17

What the Future May Hold, poetry Rachel Bell, class of 2023

43

To Break a Promise, short story Ananya Bhalla, class of 2023

19

The Button, poetry Parker Shaw, class of 2021

51

Why Me, poetry Anonymous

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20

The Kind and the Bard, Poetry Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

A World of War, poetry 22 Rachel Bell, class of 2023 27

Eternal, poetry Shannan Adams, class of 2022

Eyes, poetry 28 Rachel Bell, class of 2023

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52

Tulips in the Snow, spoken word Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

54

Yin Yang, poetry Kate Bentley, class of 2023

58

Girl at the Mirror, found poetry Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

Contents

artwork

coverElliot Francola, class of 2023 1

2 5

36Curran

Hampton, class of 2021

Annie Thompson, class of 2022

38Drew

Thorpe, class of 2024

Gal Shemtov, class of 2023

40 Luisa

Peralta, class of 2023

Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

42 Reece

Aylesworth, class of 2021

7

Mia Nguyen, class of 2023

48 Rachel

8

Gal Shemtov, class of 2023

50 Melanie

10

Gal Shemtov, class of 2023

12

Rachel Bell, class of 2023

14

Rachel Bell, class of 2023

17

Gal Shemtov, class of 2023

18

Rachel Bell, class of 2023

21

Mia Nguyen, class of 2023

23

Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

24

Kate Bernstein, class of 2021

26

Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

29

Helena Eisert, class of 2023

30

Mia Nguyen, class of 2023

32

Rachel Bell, class of 2023

35

Mia Nguyen, class of 2023

52 Kate

Nguyen, class of 2022

Bentley, class of 2023

55 Gabriel 56 Gal

Bell, class of 2023

Moore, class of 2022

Shemtov, class of 2023

back cover Reece Aylesworth, class of 2021

Red

It Is all-consuming The crimson captivates The scarlet simmers The burgundy bewitches The maroon mulls The rose desires The ruby deceives The apple satisfies The dawn rises The fire engulfs The burn aches The wound festers The scar remains

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Writing - Rachel Bell; Art - Mia Nguyen 7

Golden Guillotine

Naivete I adorn myself with gold I bathe myself in milk I eat nothing but cake I wear nothing but silk

Writing - Reece Aylesworth; Art - Gal Shemtov

Golden tears are shed When I cry over milk spilt I am finally full, but with regret My noose is made of silk

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Writing - Rachel Bell; Art - Gal Shemtov

Falling

What does love and a well have in common?

There are many stories about people falling in them.

Once you fall, it’s hard to get out.

Once you get out, you don’t want to fall back in.

The fall is the scariest Part, Fear induced by the absence of control and an unsure future

11

Does a ship in a bottle Know that it’s trapped Or rather would it care?

That its journey will not end As clay waters do not bend strings and resin preclude an elsewhere But the ship can still see the world As dusty as it may appear And maybe that is enough and more Though it travels not through real motion Perhaps time is its ocean And boredom a never met seashore

Writing - Reece Aylesworth; Art - Rachel Bell

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Writing -Shannan Adams; Art - Rachel Bell

Tommy Tenor was an ordinary little boy. He woke up at eight every morning to walk to school, sat at the desk he shared with two classmates for eight hours, then walked home along the old forest path by the river. He liked to watch the fish.

Some days, there was a long stick sitting by the side of the river. He would pick it up, and pretend that he was dueling an evil pirate lord as he pranced along the path, dodging stray tree stumps. The fish were his allies, cheering him on from 14

the water with tiny little bubbles of encouragement that burst when they reached the surface. He always won the battle.

Time passed. The ordinary little boy grew into an ordinary teenager. Tommy Tenor went out with his friends almost every night. He became an expert at sneaking in through the back door at night without waking his parents, even when he couldn’t see straight. Especially when he couldn’t see straight.

His new friends had cars, so

he had no need to walk down the old forest path by the river.

The fish kept talking though, their sorrow popping open and spilling across the surface of the water. They missed having someone to cheer on.

He wasn’t winning fights now.

So much so, that when he was rejected by every college except for the one he didn’t want to go to, just down the street and famous for its subpar education, he couldn’t even muster up the will to be disappointed. He just packed his bags and left.

College was a blur.

He had a girlfriend. She was okay. He had friends. They were okay, too. He was acing his classes in the major he didn’t care about. But that was okay, too.

Four years.

Then three.

Two. One. And he was looking for a job. Apparently, the job interviewers could tell that he didn’t care about his field at all, because he kept getting rejected. He moved back in with his parents and tried to ignore their concerned gazes pounding into his skull. His girlfriend broke up with him, saying she wanted “stability”, and that she didn’t want to put in the effort to maintain a long – distance relationship. He took a job at Publix.

He developed a habit of going back to the river by the old forest path, not to duel evil pirates, but to fish. He usually made quite a good catch; the fish flocked to his reel. Their last breaths burst from their frantically flopping bodies, wondering how that little boy who played with them could become the man who now ate them for dinner.

He got a job opportunity managing a string of Publix’s in Florida. He took it, thinking that the land of sunshine might make him happier than the small town where he grew up.

He packed up, said his goodbyes, and moved.

He didn’t look back.

His days drifted into an aimless monotony of retail work.

He met a nice girl who he liked well enough, and married her.

He had two kids. They kept him up at night with their endless squeals; his employees looked at each other knowingly and joked about the exhaustion that came with fatherhood. His parents passed away within a week of each other. He laid lilies on their grave.

He returned to the river by the old forest path for one last fishing trip before packing up the last vestiges of his childhood.

The fish weren’t glad to see him. They no longer flocked to his reel.

He came home empty – handed to an exhausted wife and two hyper toddlers.

He moved into a nice house, got a promotion and a nice car.

The kids grew up; now they were the unruly teenagers that snuck out and in in the dead of night. Tommy Tenor and his wife were not happy. The divorce was finalized on their first son’s fifteenth birthday. He got the house. His wife got the kids.

He turned fifty.

Then sixty, and still stocking shelves.

Sixty – five, he retired. He had always intended to travel when he retired, but his back and knees ached, and all the sights to see were so far away.

It didn’t seem worth the trouble. Besides, he was happy sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch of his house and watching people walk by.

His kids had kids of their own now, and some days, his house was filled with the squeals of small children once again. He eyed his sons knowingly, seeing their eyes bagged down by the exhaustion of fatherhood.

But he didn’t joke.

Then there was a nursing home. Sickness. An oxygen tube. His sons always looked grieved when they came to visit; the grandchildren were oblivious. He began to remember the days when he used to duel with pirates on the old forest path by the river.

He missed the trees. He missed the fish. He missed the days when things were so simple, when one could defeat

their enemies with one swipe of their stick – sword. The enemy he was facing now was the one holding the sword.

He tried to ask his sons to let him visit the river where he had once played as a boy, but they only stared at him uncomprehendingly. The nurse eyed him solemnly.

“It’s one of the delusions,” she said, nodding knowingly.

She looked like his wife. He wondered what had happened to her. Had she remarried?

Been happy? He hoped that she had been happy.

The enemy came in with the shadows on the darkest of nights. The wind roared by outside, and Tommy Tenor watched, paralyzed, as the pirate grinned at him and raised his sword. He closed his eyes.

The marble gravestone read: Tom Tenor. Father, husband.

He will be missed by many.

Rest in Peace.

Nobody came to visit.

In the river by the old forest path, the fish swam restlessly, whispering their encouragement to the little red – haired girl. It was her first time on the path, and she had found the perfect – sized stick to duel the pirates.

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Writing - Rachel Bell; Art - Gal Shemtov

Vehicles soar through the air overhead Luminous buildings pierce the sky Technology now further ahead With abundant water, nowhere is ever dry The scientists here are getting a big head Still creating new inventions that fly Everyone is now healthy and fed, Thanks to massorganic farming and more medicines to buy Hoverboards are so passé, rocketboots are the new trend instead Our fields trips to the past never seem to dissatisfy The predecessors cleaned up their mess, so the fate of their posterity they wouldn’t dread And the fantastic life that we now live, won’t ever cease to mystify!

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Writing - Parker Shaw; Art - Rachel Bell

My heart’s too young for my growing chest plates, I need to shed the glasses, ‘fore it’s too late Why can’t I just succumb to my reality, The leaves grow bitter in the lukewarm tea Why does my body grow faster than me?

I look behind, instead of what’s in front of me A great wide future where I can really thrive, Then I’ll truly learn to be alive I’m just a boy trapped in a man’s body, My memory is clear, yet my future’s foggy Vacant dreams, and empty ambitions, Mind unborn, but my life’s begun The floor is crumbling, not a tile to stand on, I miss my friend, who’s eyes sparkled upon A rising sun, signifying a new day, Brand new day, but it all feels the same I see the door, first steps I take, The end of a child, a choice I must make The life of a working man, Kill my true self, that’s the plan

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the King and the Bard I am not tired I need not sleep But I am fatigued From the reality I keep To close my eyes And build a new story Not of concrete substance But of tales of glory And just for a moment I shall leave this place In search of a new world One that takes up no space Empires roam my mind And when times are hard I become ruler of the all Both the king and the bard So heed me now, subject And forget this not There is no thing as powerful As the power of thought

Writing - Reee Aylesworth; Art - Mia Nguyen

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Writing - Rachel Bell; Art - Reece Aylesworth

A World Of War

Insignificant and afraid When will the world be peaceful for once?

The barren earth is still and silent after cries of war Tongues of fire lick the ground Why do people crave more than can be given?

Forgotten and alone Fantasizing that the world isn’t caving in There is a hollow pit where my stomach should be I lay on the cold, dirt ground and shiver Someday, there will be no Earth Bullets rain down nearby as confirmation Hopeless and abandoned This may never end Will there ever be a day that I won’t be alone and unwanted? Is it even possible for the violence to end?

All wishes seem to be a lost cause People need to learn how to get along Is this our future?

Art - Kate Bernstein

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Writing - Shannan Adams; Art - Reece Aylesworth

Eternal The moon hangs heavy in the ever – darkening sky, the last vestiges of light fleeing over the horizon, conquered by the invading army.

The stars are out tonight, twirling on their painted curves; not a care in the world.

Not of this world and its earthly troubles.

They are blazing, made of untouchable fire.

They stare back upon our primitive world and scoff at our mortality.

For what is a fleeting second of life compared to eons?

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27

Eyes: the windows to the soul.

A labyrinth is nothing compared to your eyes because I am hopelessly lost in them.

Eyes: the pinnacle of beauty.

A rose is nothing compared to your eyes because I am captivated by their allure.

Eyes: the bottomless pit.

A ravine is nothing compared to your eyes because I am diving irrevocably into them.

Eyes: the light-consuming void.

A black hole is nothing compared to your eyes because I am pulled closer by their invisible force.

Eyes: the curious phenomenon.

A bumblebee’s flight is nothing compared to your eyes because I am intrigued by their mystery.

Writing - Rachel Bell; Art - Helena Eisert 28

Writing - Anonymous; Art - Mia Nguyen

I woke up.

Oh the smoke is here again.

I inhaled deeply.

I used to feel it but it’s been so long it doesn’t hurt anymore.

Right?

I walk around my world as it burns.

Inhaling the fumes as if I’m embracing an old friend.

There was a bit of time not too long ago when my world was being rebuilt, when it wasn’t burning.

There were small fires, but were put out quickly.

The smoke barley formed.

The smoke didn’t stay.

But its back again.

Thick and dense once more.

I remember when it choked me.

About 4 years ago.

And I barley escaped but not without the scars.

I thought it was gone forever.

But its back again.

The smoke.

Lingering.

It makes me want to crawl away and hide.

It makes me want to lie in bed and cry.

It makes me want to tell my friends goodbye.

It makes me want a new life.

It makes me lie awake in bed at night.

It makes me stare at the walls and lights.

It won’t go away.

I can only pray the fires will die down, and the smoke grow less dense.

I pray every day that I am spared from being consumed.

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Writing - Reece Aylesworth; Art - Rachel Bell

Legacy

Size 8 shoes to fill Passed down through generations Hand-me-downs that don’t quite fit Heirlooms and expectations

32

Toss

the

Hello my name is Schrödinger Would you care to place a bet We flip a coin, Heads or tails Only one can win, And yet I propose a hypothetical After we make the call which of us would have won If we did not view the fall The odds are fifty-fifty A simple one of two But if one cannot be proven Then how can one be true?

What fire taught the monster Christmas lights and electrical fires Wild roses and wilder briars In every thorn a lesson learned Of how Christmas trees glow When they’re burned

33

Even the most depressing days Of a week of weeping Have merry minutes That make time worth keeping

Writing - Reece Aylesworth; Art - Mia Nguyen 34

35

Servant of ptah Let art be my religion I pray with graphite-smudged palms If paper is my church Let these verses be my psalms

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Writing - Reece Aylesworth; Art - Curran Hampton

Love tastes like Love tastes like the coffee residue of sloppy kisses too early in the morning and lazy 5 more minutes please Love tastes like half chewed spearmint-gum make out sessions between periods full of stolen glances and scribbled love notes Love tastes like red wine stained lips and romantic dates full of meaningful stares and plunging silk necklines Love tastes like smeared peanut butter on your fingertips and the most hilarious sticky situations Love tastes like buttered popcorn and cuddling up in the red velvet seats at the movies Love tastes like fresh strawberries at picnics and yellow sundresses under the summer sun Love tastes like hot coco covered kisses full of frozen noses and cozy, warm sweaters Love tastes like everyday things made special by you

Writing - Reagan Brannigan; Art - Drew Thorpe

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Art - Luisa Peralta

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To Break a Promise

Writing - Ananya Bhalla; Art - Reece Aylesworth

Jade sat in a tall oak tree, the moonlight cascading through the foliage, breaking into tiny diamonds that filled the forest. It was silent except for the girl’s quiet humming. Her long curls fell across her face as she watched over the woods and above the dark silhouettes of trees and vines that engulfed them.

She was high up. Higher than she normally dared to venture, especially in the dark. But she couldn’t care less as she hummed and waited for him.

He came to her like the autumn breeze, softly and quietly.

Without even having to look, she knew he was sitting beside her with a soft smile on his face.

“Hey Jay”, he greeted gently, “How’s everything been?”

Her heart clenched at the sound of her nickname; one he’d given Jade after finding her perched at the top of the willow tree outside their childhood home when they were little.

“Decent. Ma’s been cookin’ non-stop for a charity function at the college. She says that cookin’s good for the soul, and is willing to attack any sorry bastard who says otherwise.”

Her brother chuckles warmly.

“Can’t argue with Mama. But I was asking about you, Jay. How have you been holding up?”

Jade shrugged. “I miss you.

We both do, Ethan. I’ve wanted to tell her for so long that I can still see you, talk to you. She deserves to know.”

Jade looked over to her twin brother, taking in his strong frame, dark curls, and careful brown eyes.

“You know you can’t do that.

She’s finally beginning to move on, and it ain’t right for a son to cause his parents’ harm. I’ve done enough harm already, especially with you.”

Jade smiled wryly. “We’ve been over this, Ethan. There’s nothin’ wrong with me talkin’ to my brother.”

“When your brother died a year ago in a car crash, there is.

Jay please...I can’t keep coming back here.”

Jade’s jaw clenched as she took in the slight blue hue to her brother’s tanned skin, the subtle reminder that she couldn’t simply drag him home with her.

She absentmindedly scratched at one of the jagged scars on her arm.

“There ain’t any discussion here, Ethan. You promised me.”

Ethan sighed, “I promised that I wouldn’t leave. And I won’t leave, not really. But it’s been a year, one whole year of putting your life on hold.”

Jade stubbornly shook her head. “Meeting every once in a while doesn’t put my life on hold.”

At that her brother swung off the branch, nimbly jumping onto another one below her so he was at facelevel.

“Really? Walking out in the middle of the night almost every day to meet a ghost and talk until the sunrise doesn’t take a

toll on you? Come on, Jay. I’m dead, not blind. Rhea is your best friend, yet you haven’t reached out to her in months.

You’ve got nasty circles under your eyes, and you can barely keep yourself upright. You’re not going to graduate college if you keep this up.”

Jade couldn’t help but snap, “So what? I love you, you idiot. Am I just supposed to walk away and leave you behind?”

Her twin just shrugged. “Jay... you were supposed to do that months ago.”

Tears of frustration pricked her eyes as she spit out, “No, you don’t get to do that! I swore that I wouldn’t ever leave you when we were upside down in a car in the middle of a damn highway. I told you that against all odds, I wouldn’t leave you.

You promised the same, Ethan.

So don’t you dare say anything different.”

Her tears were freely flowing now, and at the sight, her brother quieted. Jade gratefully placed her hand over his, cool underneath her touch.

Amidst the magic of nighttime wilderness, the two silently sat together in their favorite oak tree until the sun arose and painted the forest red. ******************************* For a year, Jade had travelled from their meeting spot to home before four thirty in the morning with no trouble. Ma had always been a deep sleeper. So, it was 43

a surprise when Jade found her sleeping on the doorstep of their ramshackle home, wearing a blanket around her shoulders. Jade gently shook her shoulder. “Hey, Ma. You alright?”

She groggily opened her eyes. “Oh, I must’ve fell asleep again.”

Jade held her hand out, helping Ma up. “What you doin’ out so early, anyway?”

The woman offered a gentle smile. “My job. Someone’s gotta make sure you come home every night.

want to. I just hope you know that when you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here.”

Jade sighed, tension dropping from her shoulders. “Thank you.”

Ma pressed a soft kiss onto her forehead. “Just doin’ my job, sweetheart. Come inside, let’s get some food in your belly before class.” ******************************* It was a quiet morning, the birds silent amidst a fiery sunrise, when Jade finally took Ma

morning, as Jade picked at her bacon and sunny-side up, she decided it was time.

“Ma, could I talk to you?”

It was an innocent question, but it had Jade’s heart racing, her adrenaline rushing as Ma calmly made her way to the table.

“Of course, Jade. If you want to.”

Jade took a deep breath, struggling to find the words.

“This will sound crazy, but just hear me out. It started as a feeling, like someone was there, but I didn’t believe it until I saw

“But it’s not impossible for grievin’ folk to cope by

hallucinatin’, especially when they’ve been through trauma.

I mean, this is what? Your brother’s ghost?”

You think I haven’t noticed my own daughter sneakin’ out of the house from midnight to sunrise? Trust me, you ain’t as sly as you think.”

At Jade’s bewildered face, she clarified. “I’ve known for a long time now, Jade. I even followed you to that tree of yours a few times, saw you sittin’ one of the branches just talkin’ to yourself.”

Jade flinched. “I’m sorry, it helps with...”

“You don’t need to explain, darlin’. I figure you’re old enough to grieve the way you 44

up on her offer.

She’d just come back in tears from another long fight with her brother, who’d become increasingly distant as the weeks passed by. When Jade’s mother found her, she was curled up on the front porch, head pounding. Ma simply took her hand and lead her inside for breakfast. It had become a ritual the past few weeks, Jade coming home later and later, Ma finding her staring aimlessly at the sky, and then simply offering food and comfort without question. But this particular

Ethan right in front of me.

Soon, I was able to talk to him, touch him as that feeling morphed into somethin’ more powerful.”

Jade paused, because instead of the surprise, incredulity, or even relief she was expecting, there was only pity on Ma’s face.

“So when I saw you in that tree, talkin’...”

Jade nodded, “Yeah, I was talkin’ to Ethan.”

Ma sighed heavily. “Darlin’...”

“It’s him, Ma, with the same dark hair and stupid smile. The

difference is that I’m the only one who can see or touch him, and even then only for a few hours a day. Look, I know what this sounds like, especially since you can’t see him with your own eyes, but I swear it’s Ethan. You have to believe me.”

Her mother nodded slowly.

“I believe that you believe he’s here, Jade. But it’s not impossible for grievin’ folk to cope by hallucinatin’, especially when they’ve been through trauma. I mean, this is what? Your brother’s ghost?”

Jade’s fingers tapped nervously on the tabletop. “In a way, yes. I’m not sure when it manifested or why, but I have some capability that lets me see and communicate with him.”

Her brows furrowing in thought, Ma questioned, “But why only him? And how can you touch him unless his physical body’s here? Jade, have you even considered that this may just be a distraction? Somethin’ to keep you from having to grieve?”

Jade huffed, frustrated. “No, I haven’t, because he is real.

My mind couldn’t have kept up such an elaborate trick for this long. I’ve been seein’ him for almost a year!”

Ma’s face turned grave.

“You’ve been seein’ your brother’s ghost for a year?”

She bristled at her mother’s cautious tone. “He’s your son. I know how this sounds, but why

can’t you even consider that he’s still with us?”

“I want to, darlin’, but I’ve seen this illness in action.

My grandma had hallucinations like yours...so real it had her out wanderin’ in the dark for hours. She’d said that she could see monsters as clear as day, and because she refused help, those imaginary dangers brought her real harm.”

Jade sighed, rubbing at her temples. “I’m truly sorry that happened, but it’s not the same.

I can touch Ethan, communicate with him. He’s real, Ma.” Panic began to seep in, the snake of doubt slithering into her heart as Jade awaited her response.

Ma seemed to sense it, her hand coming to rest on Jade’s.

“All I ask is that next time you go visit him, you keep what I’ve said in mind.”

She wanted to refuse, to not let the doubt that she’d pushed back for so long surface. But she knew that before she could convince Ma to believe her, she needed to be sure herself.

“I’ll try.”

Ma smiled sadly. “I loved him too, Jade. So, so much. I spent months bed-ridden, blaming myself for what happened. If only I hadn’t let you both go so late, or stay that long...but I soon realized that my boy wouldn’t want his family to waste their lives away because of regret. He’d want us to enjoy this precious life while we

have it, because everything can change in a moment.”

Jade flinched, remembering Rhea’s party. How perfect everything had been.

A gentle breeze travelled through her hair as they’d drove with open windows, both singing terribly to the radio. They talked about the dude who’d cannonballed from the roof into the pool, and laughed about the promise of murder on Rhea’s face afterwards. Jade was just about to crack a joke about how crazy the other seniors were before a car pulled up fast next to them. It was one of the guys who’d brought alcohol to the party, who’d tried to flirt with her at the party before her brother had intervened. He was even more drunk than before, yelling something to her as she drove. Ethan tried to tell him to slow down, to pull over. But the idiot kept screaming about a necklace, not paying attention to the road ahead.

“Pull over, damn it! What the hell ‘re you doin’?”, Ethan yelled back.

Jade began to slow the car in hopes of the other boy doing the same. Instead, he leaned in, his car brushing dangerously close to theirs. A shock of adrenaline shot through her and she instinctively pressed on the accelerator, swerving roughly to the right. Ethan’s eyes grew wide as he watched the road intersection rush towards them.

45

“Jay, watch out!”

She saw the incoming truck a second too late. ******************************* Jade cursed herself for choosing such a remote place to meet Ethan. It was almost a mile away, deep in the woodlands behind her home. Patience dwindling, Jade scowled at an overgrown root that’d tripped her for the third time tonight. Jade craved her warm bed, craved sleeping for days, but she pushed forward. Her brother came first.

At least, Jade thought as she finally reached her destination, the place’s so pretty.

Their tree stood alone on the top of a small hill, vines hanging from its thick branches like adornments turned silver by the moonlight, vivid red leaves dancing in the wind. Oaks surrounded it-acting as protection from prying eyes-but stood just far away enough for a ring of light to separate their tree from the rest. The sky was like a soft black blanket embezzled with rhinestones, covering the world, and allowing it to rest.

Jade shook her head, amused.

Was she really so tired that she thought of the sky as a blanket?

As she approached their tree, she called out to her brother.

She expected him appear next to her, a soft smile on his face and a warm greeting on his 46

tongue. Nothing.

“Ethan?”, she tried again.

Jade thought she saw a flicker out of the corner of her eye, but there was nothing there when she turned.

“Come on, this ain’t funny. I’m way too tired right now.”

Still nothing.

She turned back to the tree, letting out a string of curses that would’ve made Ma wash her mouth out with soap when she came face to face with her brother.

“You scared the hell outta me, dumbass! What’s wrong with you?”

Ethan just stared at her with his normally chocolate irises as black as the sky.

“Hey...is everythin’ alright?”

He still didn’t answer, his lips tightly pursed. The usual blue tint to his body was darker, contrasting with unusually pale skin. She took in his trembling hands, his empty eyes, and deep sense of unease overcame her.

“Please talk to me, Ethan.”

Jade reached for his hand, seeking the warmth she’d always gotten from him, but her hand met nothing but air. Heart pounding, she tried again.

“No...”, she murmured as her hand passed through his like it wasn’t even there.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for his hand. A bloody gash on his forehead painted his hair red. His eyes were closed as he hung upside

down, held up only by his seatbelt.

“Ethan, wake up. Wake up!

Oh god, Ethan please...”

Jade looked up at her brother, who’s face had morphed from emotionless to a hundred emotions all at once. Pain, sadness...guilt?

Her voice was nothing more than a whisper. “Ethan?”

Her heart clenched when he gave her the same look he’d given her then.

A small groan caught her attention, relief pooling in her chest as she saw her brother open his eyes.

“Ethan! Come on, stay with me!”

The confusion wore off quickly, his expression turning grave as he took in the dire situation.

He met her eyes, and what she saw made her relief fade as quickly as it had come. There was sadness written all over his red-stained face, but there was also acceptance. Understanding. He knew he was going to die, and he wasn’t going to fight it. The realization terrified her just enough to stay awake.

“Ethan, I need you to promise that you’ll hold on. Please...”

“Don’t leave, Ethan. Don’t do this to me again.” Jade’s vision became blurry as tears started tracking down her cheeks with the realization that her brother, the one she’d loved most in the world, was gone. Had been gone for months.

The weight of that revelation

brought her to her knees. Her twin knelt beside her, his lips silently forming the words...

“I’ll always be with you, Jay. I promise.”

Her heart shattered as his skin began to dissolve into luminescent blue pixels that intermingled with the fiery colors of fall and flew into the sky like dust in wind.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, she caught his soft gaze for the last time.

“I love you”, she whispered.

The last she ever saw of her brother was his smile.

He’d figured it out after the accident when he had been sitting on the curb, watching the paramedics take his body, his sister, and the drunk senior away. Jade’s silver necklace had been sitting in the wreckage; the other boy had been trying to return it after she’d dropped it at the party. His sister’s favorite necklace had grounded him then just enough to let him to pick it up. He soon learned that he could touch objects or people of meaning to him.

He cherished the feel of the

But he had stayed by her side that night, hidden, because that’s what she’d needed. To scream, cry, grieve and then move on. For a long time, he’d clung to her, the person he loved most, letting her see and hold him. But there was a reason why Ethan didn’t reach out to his mother, why he didn’t tell his sister that he was the one who could cross in between the living and the dead.

He knew he’d have to say goodbye in order for them to live the lives they deserved.

Ethan glanced down at his

Jade’s vision became blurry as tears started tracking down

her cheeks with the realization that her brother, the one she’d loved most in the world, was gone. Had been gone for months.

******************************* He’d always been different.

He could sense things, see things, no one else did.

At first it was just a strange flicker of light or a bad feeling, but his ability became stronger over time. Soon he was able to see ghosts, even hear them if he focused hard enough. The power somehow stayed with him after he died, becoming more of a blessing in death than it ever did in life.

As a ghost, Ethan was able to connect to the waking world through touch.

chain across his fingers before carefully placing the gift under his sister’s bed.

Ethan watched as Jade came in, dressed in her college graduation gown, a genuine smile adorning her face.

She grabbed her phone from her nightstand, pausing for a second to look straight at him.

Jade didn’t move, her eyebrows furrowing for a moment.

But someone called her from downstairs, Rhea, and the easy smile returned as she shook her head.

All she’d seen was empty air.

He didn’t like hiding from her.

trembling hand, watching it phase it and out of existence.

His power had been dwindling for months after the night he’d let Jade go, each touch a exertion. There would inevitably be a time when his strength would fail him, when he’d fade away completely. He’d made peace with that. But until then, Ethan would stay, watching over his family for as long as he could.

He was never one to break a promise.

47

Art - Rachel Bell 48

49

Writing - Anonymous; Art - Melanie Nguyen

50

Why Me

Why me.

I ask myself that almost everyday now.

Why me.

Why do I have to be constantly stressed over my life.

Why do I have to carry my burdens.

Why do I have to deal with these inconveniences.

Why do I have to deal with these people.

But then I remember.

I am okay in the general scheme of the universe.

“I’m not stuck in a small house with one bathroom and 6 people.”

I say to myself feel better.

“I don’t have to worry about what I can eat or if I even get to eat.”

I say to feel better.

“I’ve never lost a loved one.”

So I can feel better.

“I haven’t been harassed for who I am.”

But can I feel better?

“I haven’t had to experience major trauma.”

But why don’t I feel better?

“I haven’t struggled like the others.”

But I still don’t feel better.

I would say why me but then I’d be stabbing myself with the cold blade of guilt.

I’m fine according to the universe.

There are so many others who have suffered much worse in this universe.

A day in my shoes would be paradise for them.

But why am I still hurting.

“You have technology” “But why does it hurt me” “You have money” “But why does it scare me” “You are loved by so many” “But why do I feel alone” “You are safe at home” “But why am I still worried” “You’re alive” says the universe.

“But why” I cry.

51

Writing - Reece Aylesworth; Art - Kate Bentley

You come in every day with a smile on your face Hoping that nobody notices your happiness is a hollow well Dried up by the draught of depression that everybody mistakes for sunny rays You hope nobody notices, But I can tell I can tell that you don’t know How tulips can grow in the snow And I bet that you haven’t heard The melody that wind hums to the earth And that you’ve never seen Sea glass so green That green becomes your new favorite color I can tell that you don’t know that happiness No,

All you know is how lemon juice stings on scars you had hoped your skin had forgotten Caused by paper cuts from love letters you wrote and now try to forget They say time heals but it also makes the freshest of milk go rotten You gave away so much love that you’re heart is now in debt Yes, Depression is a draught that will make you doubt All of the joy you’ve have ever known And that anxiety is an earthquake The way your legs shake and cracks start to show And your mind is a blizzard but didn’t I tell you That tulips, too, can grow in the snow

Yin Yang Yin Yang A philosophy centered on the duality of the universe, dark and light, moon and sun.

Two forces Eternally locked in battle and neither can gain the advantage.

These two enemies, though opposites in every regard, are brothers, dependents, one cannot exist without the other.

Shadow cannot exist without light to cast it; The night is not “night” without day in the morning.

They are never absolutely separated, As one grows the other makes way.

A paradox: Unity in division, Yin and Yang.

Writing - Kate Bentley; Art - Gabriel Moore 54

Colophon

This is not our first issue of Pawprints Literary Magazine, however, the old issues never had a volume number associated with them. So we are starting over with Pawprints Volume 1*.

Pawprints, Volume 1*, is the annual literary arts magazine of H.B. Plant High School.

The production of Pawprint was student-led, and all submissions, text and design were received from the students of H.B. Plant High School.

Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Pawprint, Vol. 1* was released digitally on issuu.com. Print issues were made only for contributors and to keep a historical record in the archive.

Fonts: Headlines: Amalfi Coast All other text: Gravity font family

board

Kate Bernstein Senior Editor in Chief Izzy Antilla Junior Editor in Chief Ananya Bhalla Sophomore Editor in Chief Shannan Adams Online Editor Mia Nguyen Managing Editor, Art Reece Aylesworth Managing Editor, Writing Rachel Bell Social Media Manager Grace Mickelson Business Manager Katherine Bentley Copy Editor Logan Black Design Editor Savannah Chalmers Design Editor Erin Moffitt Design Editor Christina Porcelli Adviser

Staff

club members

Emma Beilman Reagan Brannigan Amy Cha Caroline Danzi Olivia DeGrave Ana Easterly Helena Eisert Megan Engelsberg Claire Feldman Owen Felton Nyomie Gigante Sundus Hamdan Curran Hampton Hannah Hansted Amelle Harris Ashley Harrop Molly Hill Savannah Houston Gabrielle Jones Corienne Kudzinski Eathan Landon Madison Lawrence Jackson Lehner Ester Lilly Ella Marchetti Rylee Martinez-Mackay William Mathangani

Andre McAllister Annie McKell Kallyn McKinney Sara Mekhtieva Grace Mickelson Annie Miller Gabriel Moore Evelynn Murdick Melanie Nguyen Sydney Nichols Luisa Peralta Hope Romero Reagan Ruden Solange Sai Evan Schaag Lillian Schweiss Alexa Semmelmann Caitlyn Sherman Samantha Sparks Hailey Teasley Sarah Tomashot Luka Vaicekauskaite Julia Wolfe Natalie Yale Elizabeth Zhao

contributors Gal Shemtov Parker Shaw Annie Thompson Drew Thorpe

Art - Gal Shemtov 56

57

Writing - Reece Aylesworth