Perspectives Magazine 23-24

Perspectives

2023-2024

ECCConferenceSchoolCreativeWriting Publication

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Silence Bound

Taylor Van Ornum, Grade 9

Are my words, just blurs, of inaudible sound?

Can you hear me, clearly, or should I preach aloud?

And if I do, will you listen, to me speaking proud?

Or will you tell me, to turn my volume down, and bury my voice underground?

You say it’s my fault, its my voice, and that you’ll come around.

But I know you better than that, so I stay, silence bound.

Ichthyosaurus

VioletDaubner,Grade12

Fromthedepthsofthesea

Swamit’sking

Vastandfree

Anotherworldlything

Itlookedmuchlikeafish

Butitwassomuchmore

Inreptile’sbliss

LivedtheIchthyosaur

Fromthedepthsoftime

FromtheeraTriassic

Livinginancientsublime

Theaquaticclassic

Theyswamtheworld’soceans

Likethewhalesoftoday

Butdespiteconstantdevotion

Theycouldneverstay

Fromthedepthsoftheearth

Weexhumedtheirbones

Upholdingnomirth, Fossilizedandalone

Weobservethemnow

Frozenintheirstoneystate

Butyetourmindscan’tallow

Thethoughtwecouldmeetthesamefate

The Rose

Emelia Beulen, Grade 9

The rose—

Red and full

A perfect gift

But—

Oh so common now, They feel impersonal

Just the go-to, Over-the-top,

The immediate thought.

One easy to overlook, but still so delicate, so full

In more than just angry red

Dyed so carefully-

Blue, white, pink, yellow

Much more than

What they assume in a simple thought

Much more than just the basic idea,

I am a rose, hidden in my name.

I am the go-to for them,

A reliable favor,

But I’m not offended

I'm not upset,

I got to be that leading example:

That one role model

If only for a minute

If only just to a few

If it gives those high standards

And that unintentional disregard;

I was something more than a decorative flower-

I was a prizewinner, one to show off.

But now I’m in a new assortment

With new roses, lilies, and even dandelions!

Everyplace has its thorns,

You have yours,

I have mine.

But here, where I know I’m not the only one

The one that had to be the prize flower, I’m part of a bouquet.

I’ve moved from my beloved garden

To a big display

And as I bloom

With everyone else with me, I don’t feel so alone anymore.

While my garden is my special place, Like no other,

My display, my bouquetIs my place to shine, Thorns and all.

Spread Upon the Northern Lights

Arianna McCormick, Grade 11

“Ray.”

A spectacle of blue and green dances in the sky, joined by an entourage of glittering stars. They swarm my vision, blue and green morphing into purple and back again, colors cluttering the sky, broken only as I breathe out small puffs of smoke that fade into nothingness.

“Ray.”

My fingers burn. I can’t remember when they started burning, but they’re burning now, hot and twisting as I raise them up to the sky. The grating sound of synthetic polyester simmers into the background, replaced by the beating of my heart.

“Ray!”

Pressure against my shoulder forces me to turn, meeting brilliant green eyes. Otto’s face is red, body shivering as he hugs his coat closer to his body. He’s got his hood up, although it causes him to tic, shoulders jumping up and down. Golden brown hair frames his face as he shakes me. “Ray, what the actual hell are you doing out here?!”

“The northern lights are out,” the words fall, unfamiliar in my mouth. I can’t remember ever really hearing my voice, the way words tumble out of my mouth. It feels like someone has pressed cotton against my teeth, making everything I say come out slurred. “I’ve never seen them before.”

His eyebrows crease. The freckles dotting his face remind me of the stars, sporadic and far away. “You need to get inside. It’s cold out.”

“But the lights,” I turn away from him. They shimmer and glow, tangling together messily. “They’re pretty.” My bones feel heavy, and I take the time to ponder what would happen if I just took them out. I’d be a pile of skin, probably.

A laugh rises from my chest at the idea. Otto’s eyebrows crease further.

“You’re hypothermic, come on. We’re getting inside.”

“I want to see the lights.” He stands, and I stand too, snow crunching under our boots. He retracts his hand, and I take the opportunity to step forward. “They’re really pretty.”

He huffs, but his voice turns soft. “I know, Ray. Now come on. Let’s get inside.”

“I don’t think I want to.”

The sound of snow crunching under my feet makes me cringe, but I ignore it. Otto’s face morphs from one of concern to one of panic.

“Ray, come on.” His words hitch. Is he crying? I don’t know.

“Ray, come here.” I continue forward, toward the lights. They reflect on the water, the still stream Otto and I used to swim in together.

His voice fades into the background as the water consumes me.

Bubbles flood my vision, breaking up the iridescent lights. It closes around me, and I breathe out just to watch the lights coalesce. It’s warm, everything is so warm.

It doesn’t take long for the lights to disappear, replaced by a million freckles.

The water darkens. Arms wrap around my waist and pull me up.

Snow spreads across my back as Otto throws me down, gasping and shuddering. “RAY!” He shouts, staring down at me. “Ray, why would you even do that?! What were you thinking?!”

Stars span out around his head. The lights flickered and danced behind him. They looked fuzzy now, and I blinked away water, watching Otto’s face morph between anger and worry. He’s always been the type to worry about everything. The world spins. Everything is too hot.

“We’re going inside,” his voice is firm and determined. I know how weak he is, yet somehow he picks me up anyway. I try to stand, but my legs feel like lead. He doesn’t seem to care.

The lights swim in my vision. A crow flits across them, darting through an array of blue and purple that illuminate his wings. Waves of warm air hit my face, the lights replaced by a pale yellow. Otto sets me against the couch, anger replaced by a warm concern.

Outside, the lights fade away. I close my eyes.

Ignored

Taylor Van Ornum, Grade 9

When I talk to you

You put me on mute

Because listening to me

Is just too hard to do They say,

“It goes in one ear and comes out the other”

But I do not aim to bother

The people who couldn't care less

So I stay quiet

And I stress

I stress because

My voice is unheard

You can’t hear a thing

Not even a word

So I stay Ignored

So I sit

And I wait

Not by choice

Not by fate

But because

If I utter one sound

My voice is turned down

Like a remote

Because I am not a person

But a choice

I am a sound

But not a voice

And I’m no Shakespeare

But I think I should choose

“To be or not to be”

Constantly Ignored

A Celestial Dance

Emelia Beulen, Grade 9

The stars swirl; they love to twirl; they put you in a whirl

The planets sway; deciding they’d like to play; sweeping everything with them away. They mix in a dance; enough to put you in a trance; watching as they start to prance

They loop around the sky; without an actual why; they just long to fly. They leave bright ribbons in their wake that the North can’t and doesn’t want to shake, bouncing off the poles and frozen lake

Leaving behind a Borealis, building up an expanse of palace; none think of harm or malice.

We watch them go by in the evening sky; any of our known rules, they just deny So next time you see them flip, give you stagnant telescope a vertical tip, and you’ll see a show before, away again, they slip.

Now Free

Henry Wasmuth, Grade 12

Lately, I've been super anxious

To escape the past as the future's waiting

The highs you gave me two years ago, I'm still chasing

‘Built a hospital to repair my soul, and I've been patient

Singing birds, rushing rivers, palm trees, and mountains

Bright blue skies, no clouds in sight, I love our surroundings

Too many sins by me, and you haven't come around since

My heart was ripped from my body When I met you, I found it

Now it's looking like it's time to heal the pain

I tried to forgive myself, but I still feel the same

It's true when you're here you always shield the rain

I'm putting all my hope in what is real to change

I sealed my fate, you ran away

Maybe you'll come back someday

I'm in a maze

When I see your face

Are you here to stay?

It's clear as day

You will steer away

As tears rain from your face

What's there to say? These choices I've made

It's the price I have to pay

But...

You smile…

The sun pierces through the storm...

I have been reborn.

Everything I was dreaming for

Your wings...

They spread...

You take me right back home

My soul has just been freed

Prosperity seems guaranteed

TheBanquet

AndrewRozek,Grade11

“The banquet is set to begin in fifteen minutes, your majesty,” I stared up at the queen’s toweringfigure “Thebutterflyliaisoncouncilwillbearrivingshortly”

“I am aware, but thank you, Borle,”sheslidwhiteglovesoverherunnaturalblackclawsand adjusted her regal red cloak in the mirror. “Shall we make our way to the banquet hall and ensure everythingisinorder?”

“Yes, your majesty,” holding open the door, I let the queen walk into the hall and promptly followed Her steps, made in tall, black boots, were made gracefully but with great purpose, and I hadtroublekeepingup,whatwithmyshortstature.

“I pray they have the flowers in perfect order, I truly didn’t purchase them for nothing,”the queen scowled. “Milkweed runs for an unnecessarily high price, butIwouldn’triskpresentingthem withanythingtheywouldfindinferior”

“I understand that butterflies are very particular, but flowers are their main food source Would the event truly be lesssuccessfulifwepresentedthemwithsomethingotherthanmilkweed?” I pulled out the notepad kept in the pocket of my cloak, ready to write down what the queenwould say next. I’m always ready to write down any new information I learn, considering officials in the castle always have questions for me about the latest information about the queen or more recently, butterflies

“Milkweed is their favorite. It is a real delicacy among their people, but the royal family is especially fond of it. Using these flowers will give us the highest chance of success, and it is quite ironiciftheirfondnessofthisdelicacyiswhatgetsthemkilled,isitnot?”

“I guess so, your majesty,” I wrote down what the queen had told me, keeping it safe for a laterdatewhenIwouldinevitablybeaskedaboutthebanquet

“You still sound so unsure. Why is that?” Despite being used to questions, ashiverwassent throughoutmywingsatthisone.

“Ah, well…” I innocently raised my gaze up to thequeen.“Iunderstandthatitisfartoolate to cancel the event, and that is not my request by any means, but your majesty, do you still truly believethatthisisthebestwaytogoaboutthings?”

“Are you questioning my authority?” the queen stopped in her tracks, menacingly staring downatme,brightredeyesboringintomine.

“Not at all, your majesty!” I raised my hands defensively. “Just…it is certainly true that they’vecommittedverycruelactsagainstourpeople,however,Iamnotfondoftheideaofwar”

“If they killed our people, do theynotdeservetodiealso?Howmanymothshavediedtothe hands of those wretched butterflies? How are we to avenge our dead if they don’t experience a similar level of cruelty? How are we to avenge the moths that perished due to their disgusting experiments if we never fight back?” Her tone was cold and condescending, cutting through the silenceofthelong,redhallway

“Iunderstandwhereyou’recomingfrom,QueenAnastera,Ijustwish-”

“There’s nothing for you to wish, Borle. Your job is to assist me, not to make decisions for me.WhatIsayisfinal,andyouaretoattendthisbanquetandseeitthrough.Isthatclear?”

“ Yes,yourmajesty”

We resumed walking, faster than we hadbeenbefore Westrolledpastvariousguardscladin traditionally grey and red moth armor, assuming their positions to prepare for thebanquet.Inodded atthemcordially,bothofusmutuallyawareoftheeventabouttooccur.

The queen kept her gaze straight ahead, refusingtoacknowledgeanythingbutthethoughtof ourapproachingdestination

Icheckedmywatch “Tenminutes,yourmajesty”

“Yes,Borle.”

Thesilencebetweenuswasonlybearableduetothechattercomingfromthenearingbanquet hall.Thedoorswerealreadyopen,andthequeenandIwalkedin,takinginthesights.

To say that thebanquethallwasenticingisanunderstatement Thelargemahoganytableand red tablecloth were as it alwayswas,astapleofmothculture,butthewallpaperhadbeenreplaced It was now adorned with a vibrant floralpattern,complimentingthebeautifulflowersonthetable.The plants were indeed milkweed, in enticing shades of purple, red and white, their sweet fragrance permeatingthelargehall.

“Your majesty!” one of many event coordinators ran up to the queen, bowing as he reached us “Arethepreparationssatisfactory?”

“Incredibly,” the queen smiled, showing off her unnatural fangs, pleased. “Even I am beginning to salivate at the smelloftheseflowers.I’mgratefulthebutterflieswerewillingtogiveus aproductofsuchhighquality.”

“Only the best for you, your majesty,” the coordinator smiled softly, careful not toshowtoo much emotion in front of the queen “We’ll be heading out shortly The banquet is sure to be successful.”

“Thank you,” the queen nodded and turned back to me. “Do you need afinalexplanationof ourplansforthisbanquet?”

“No, I’m aware, your majesty,” I shook my head “I feel bad that these extravagant decorations and arrangements have to be ruined I know it’s made to appeal to the culture and inclinationsofabutterfly,butasyoumentioned,evenIfindmyselfenticed.”

“I’msureitwilllookbetteroncetheirbloodhasstainedeverything.”

The queen stepped away from me after that, starting conversation with the guards that were settostandaroundherwhilethebanquetoccurred Leftaimless,Icheckedmywatchagain

Fiveminutes

The butterfly liaison council should have entered the castle and began their escort to the banquethallbynow.They’dbehereanysecondandthebanquetwouldbegin.

I looked over at the queen, reluctant to head back to her side. ThelongerIlookedather,the more uneasy I felt Her antennae were far too perky and herwingsfartoorelaxed,consideringwhat wasabouttooccur Hertall,slenderfigurecombinedwithherclawandfangmodificationsturnedher intoaterrifyingcreature,acreaturecapableoftearingapartthefleshofwhoeveritsopleased.

Ilookeddownatmyownhands,cladinredandblackgloves,noclawstobefound.

It is true that I trust the queen with everything within me. I similarly trust that however this playsoutishowthingsweremeanttobe Andyet,Icannotshakethefeelingthatstartingawarisnot

the answer After all of the cruelties the butterflies committed to our people, why must we be cruel back?Whymustwepiteveryoneagainsteachotherandkillmoreinnocentbugs?

Istaredatthequeenagainbeforeglancingbacktomyowntrembling,clawlessfingers.

Maybethisisjustthenatureofwar.

“Everyone, Isuggestwetakeourseats.Thebutterflyliaisoncouncilisapproachingthisroom as we speak, and the more orderly and presentable we are,thebetterwewillbeabletotakethemby surprise,” the queen announced I approached and took my seat next to her, the rest of the room followinginsilence.

The queen waited for everyone to take their places before speaking again, “I know many of you are quite excited for this banquet, but we all must strike together so as to ensure our success. Signals will be given by my guards and I, and please recall the code words and terms that we have previouslydiscussed,asIwillbeusingthemtopaceus”

A small murmur of agreement rose around the table. “Perfect. I trust thateveryoneherewill perform spectacularly, and that our feast tonight shall be truly extravagant. Small chatter is allowed from here on out, but pleasefallsilentassoonasthebutterflyliaisoncouncilarrivesandthebanquet begins Thankyou”

The rest ofthemothsatthetableclappedquietlybeforedelvingintotheirownconversations Icheckedmywatchafinaltime.

“Twominutes,yourmajesty.”

“Yes, Borle,” the queen smiled at me. I cringed at the sight of her fangs. “I know I’ve been harsh,andwhileIamrequiringyoutoattendthisbanquet,Itrulywillnotgiveyouanypenaltyifyou choosenottoparticipate,especiallyconsideringyouarenotasequippedastherestofus”

“Thank you, your majesty,” I smiled back, trying to ignore the numbness in my fingers and the dryness of my tongue on my dull teeth. “I understand that it isimportantforourpeople,butthis isnotsomethingIcandowithmyownhands.”

“I understand,” the queen set her hand over mine on the table Nausea came over me at the feeling of her claws on my innocent hands, knowing the destruction they could commit “Even without this banquet on your record, you are still invaluable in fighting the war we are about to initiate.”

“ThatIhopefor,yourmajesty.”

“Yes, however, let us hush I sense them approaching,” the queen’s antennae stood up, tall above her already towering height “I am aware that your hands willbefreeofbloodtonight,Borle, butplease.

Neverforgetthemoth.”

The butterfly liaison council came in through the door at that moment, escorted by guards, andourqueenwasquicktowelcomethem “Salutations!Pleasetakeaseatwhereveryouseefit

Ipromisewedon’tbite”

KettleMoraineLutheranHighSchool

Sweet Lucid Dreams

Xaley Hajdu, Grade 9

Soon I will be dreaming

But I will know that I am dreaming

After I fall deep asleep.

My mind is somehow awake

But I am asleep.

I can think and feel, smell and move.

I think of where I am

But not here; I’m just in bed asleep

Then I wake up.

Lucid Dreaming Again?

Xaley Hajdu, Grade 9

Ok, this time I will get it right.

I will try and fall asleep tonight

It won’t be hard; I’ve done it before

This time I try the wild kind Of getting into a lucid dream

I need to lay still for thirty min

Yes, I made it in but don’t be too excited then I might try to wake again

But this time I won’t mess up.

Nightmarish Lucid Dream

Xaley Hajdu, Grade 9

I have thought of a great idea

To have a lucid dream

I will think of something scary

I know that I should not do this

Because it can make my fun dream

Into a nightmare scheme.

Ok, here I go into my dream

Now I think of it, and it will appear behind me

Oh no, my lucid dream is a nightmarish reality.

The Strange Dream

Xaley Hajdu, Grade 9

There is a new dream that I want That I have at least heard of: A lucid dream.

The Room in the Back

Xaley Hajdu, Grade 9

I wonder where I was. I know the levels of this place, but this one seems new I don’t know how I got here. Let me think back…

I was watching TV on the couch in the living room. I paused the show, which happened to be Phineas and Ferb, to go to the bathroom. Before I got to the door, I fell. I did not trip. I just sank into the floor very quickly

I passed through many levels as I fell. I never knew the feeling of going to the backrooms. I saw the OG level, level zero. The beige room with walls everywhere. But that is not where I landed. I passed at least six levels.

Personally, I do not know every level’s number and where you can get to it or no-clip. Some levels allow you to clip to other levels by doing something certain. Like the infinite stair level, you have to climb a certain number of stairs and jump down, and you will find yourself in a different level.

I made it to the Pool rooms. This level is my favorite.

The Comfort of Sunsets and Stars

Kelsey Stelter, Grade 11

A sunset with purples, pinks, and blues swung throughout the sky with a mystical feeling of lightness. To look at that sky and see those colors and know that the stars would come was the only way to escape the feeling of nothingness. It always seemed to come and go quicklythe sunset. And once it was gone, there was no telling of what I would do. The thinness of my patience and the thinness of my breath made it seem like I was walking on a tightrope between sanity and death. The encapsulating and calculated feeling of coldness among those I had once called friends drenched me in sorrow.

I glanced once more at the fading colors and retreating sun before focusing on the words and pictures in front of me. Pictures of those whom I had known for years- who never seemed to bother to see the fears that I had blatantly expressed. Those who took notice but decided against their better judgment to stay quiet. I took out the razor and started to slash, words becoming voices in my head. Tears formed but never came out as I took out my guilt on my wrists.

They betrayed me, and I knew it. The stars knew it and the moon knew it and even the purple, blues, and pinks all knew it. I was alone with no one to go to. I was paper that no one knew of, discarded in a corner to collect dust. I was shattered glass in an abandoned building, waiting for someone to step on me, knowing that I would hurt them, not worrying about my own pain. I was a statue in a museum, only there for those to look at, but never to know, never to touch, never to understand. And I was alone.

I wept with no tears, trying to mask the sounds of my sobs. Those who hurt me would never know which one plunged the dagger into my heart. They did not hear me crying out Et tu Brutus? They turned their backs on the crime scene they committed. But I was there, and I could not forget. I was the corpse they so carefully positioned to make it look like it was my fault. They were the ones to tell the rumors that I was the one who did it, so they didn’t have to consider what they had just done. And I was alone. So alone.

I look once again to the dimmed sky- now seemingly twilight. I take a deep breath, the tears now streaming down silently. I am alone. Alone and lost.

Like the petals of a flower, I will bloom and wilt.

An endless cycle. Yet, I always come back, No matter if I try or not, Because my gardeners will come And keep me growing.

Keep me healthy.

Keep me alive.

For even if my petals fall, My stem stays green, And my roots stay intact.

Thank you, my gardeners.

The Beyond

Emerson Draheim, Grade 9

Up on the lonely hill

You view your new reality

Life left this place long ago

Your life was misery.

You’ve moved on,

Now words cannot describe the feeling Of the great beyond

The Ocean

Emerson Draheim, Grade 9

A peaceful flow,

The gulfweed is slowly rocking.

The fish swim peacefully around me

The sun provides a soft glow

The coral is softly interlocking.

The stillness of the sea,

The mystery of its beauty, Its silence has brought peace to me,

As the world goes dark…

Painted Fate

Emerson Draheim, Grade 9

An empty canvas, A veil of whiteness,

The brush of fate is working, Stroking, Blushing.

True art is never understood.

The times change, And so will its appearance

Your fate remains the same, Empty and Shapeless

The Web

Emerson Draheim, Grade 9

A calm day,

The peace in the air, Still as the grass lay, As I stay completely aware, Of the web I stitched myself.

The wind blows cold on a winter's day.

Enough to kill even the strongest souls I am yet unfazed, I sit, Roasting on the coals, Of my fiery lies

True Friendship

Emerson Draheim, Grade 9

There is a snowy day outside. People lay frozen on the streets.

He keeps telling me to proceed

How many people must I defeat?

No.

This wasn’t me

He’s the one who made them bleed “Proceed.”

I can’t disagree.

I can’t be free

I’m trapped in this broken dream.

I can't resist his deceit.

I can’t escape this scheme.

I’ll just lay down in the snow

And go to sleep.

Professional

Regan Kramer, Grade 10

Isn’t it weird how Death and Santa are held to such different standards?

Death is always depicted as this solitary figure, the one and only Grim Reaper holding his scythe and concealing his face with a hood.

Santa has his elves, Mrs. Claus, and the reindeer A jolly old man surrounded by helpers.

Granted, Santa has a slightly bigger job. Something Death rather likes to gripe about. To reach 300 million houses in one night, compared to Death’s measly 150,000 souls a day? Sure, of course Santa needs helpers for all of that.

But all of the you know dying? It was starting to take a toll.

So Death got his own helper.

He hired me way back in ‘14. Picking up poor Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s soul was a little too much to bear, I guess. Not to mention everyone else that died after. I’m pretty sure he was planning for me to be a short-term hire, just for four or five years while humanity figured everything out.

Spoiler alert: humanity did not, in fact, figure everything out.

And here I am. In a hospital waiting room. That’s where I spend a good amount of my time, really. Death prefers to handle the sudden stuff, the random tragedies. It feels like the victims deserve more of a professional air.

I mean, I’m not sure how much more professional I can get. I’ve had over a century of experience. I’ve got it handled by now.

Ease them out of their body. Reassure them a little. Be a strong yet comforting presence as they die.

Honestly, I’m not quite sure why he doesn’t trust me.

“Look here, you insolent little soul. It’s your time to go. You’re not the one calling the shots here, I am. So get out of your body right now, have a little moment staring wistfully at your parents and all that crap, then die!”

I glare at the faintly carmine soul that’s sitting up stubbornly as her body sleeps. The soul folds her arms. “I don’t know who the heck you are. I don’t have a problem with Death being a woman or whatever, but I don’t think the uniform is working.” She looks me up and down with a curl to her upper lip.

I look down at my flowy, gray robe. Timeless. Classic. Calm.

Fine. It doesn’t have a hood. And it has pockets. And it’s fuzzy. And it looks a little bit like a bathrobe.

I take all the comfort I can get. Don’t judge me.

I point at her. “It’s. Your. Time! Death says so! So let’s get a move on. You can process your emotions once you die.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So you’re not Death? Or are you just doing the obnoxious I’m-talking-in-third-person-about-myself thing?”

“I’m his assistant.” I jut my chin, daring her to cross me.

The soul rolls her eyes and snorts. She actually snorts. Audibly. “Absolutely not, then. I’ve been fighting too hard for too long to die because Death’s grumpy assistant says I have to. I’m fourteen years old, I have my whole life ahead of me, and I’m not going.”

I take a deep breath. You’re a professional. You’re a professional.

“Are you still talking to me?” The soul is staring at me.

I’m not used to keeping my thoughts in my head.

“Look, I’ll give you a minute or two. You can compose yourself. You can, I don’t know, wake up and say a few goodbyes. But then it’s time to go.” I storm out of the room. Silently, of course. I’m not a physical being. It’s a little dissatisfying, but it’ll have to do.

Standing directly outside the room is another girl.

She looks a lot like the wildly irritating carmine soul, but slightly older. And she doesn’t have the same fierceness in her eyes. There’s a weariness instead. A pain.

She closes her eyes and presses her forehead to the wall.

Being Death’s assistant—I should ask him if I can be elevated to partner I clearly know by now that hospital walls are germ-infested. I’m about to give her pale azure soul a little nudge away when she whispers, “Please…please don’t let her die. This is the only thing I’ll ever beg for. Please don’t let my little sister die.”

It’s been a long time since I’ve been physically impacted by anything, but her pleas seem to hit me in the gut.

I am a girl standing the exact same way.

Outside the room that my sister is in, listening to the sounds of Death coming.

Hacking coughs, whimpers, restless movement, yes, instead of heartless beeps and the occasional buzz, but they feel the same. They are the same.

I knot my hands in the skirt of my dress and wish, plead, pray—it all mixes in my mind—that she’d stay

My only sister.

My best friend.

The two of us, against a harsh world with sorrowful doctors and hopeless looks and the murmur of a weak, inevitable, “I’m sorry”

The carmine soul is standing now, but she’s definitely not ready to go.

Her translucent hands clutch into fists as I come back in. “Look here, Death’s secretary—”

“Stay,” I snap. “Also, I’m Death’s partner, not his secretary!” I decide that I’m taking the title change whether he likes it or not. “And clearly you’re too much trouble to take right now.”

“I’m not going to die?” Suddenly the soul’s face doesn’t look sharp and ready to battle. It looks like the face of a girl who has been pushing against this day for years.

“I mean, eventually.” I shrug. “But not now.” I move to leave, back to the waiting room, but I pause. “I heard about a new clinical trial going on for patients in your age group. I’d ask your doctor about it. Seems like a good fit.”

“How much time do you spend here?” The soul wrinkles her nose, slowly drifting back towards her prone body.

“Too much.” I look at the soul. A fierce color. Full of passion. Full of life. “Just ask. From one sister to another”

Death isn’t super happy about me not taking the girl.

He’s never super happy, to be fair. It’s a hard job to be happy in.

But I don’t care that much.

I’ve been working this job for a hundred years, after all. Really, I’m a professional.

Let Me Be Free

Haven Rhode, Grade 12

Let me be free

Free to do what I feel

And not to write the things you

Want me to say

You tie me down

Like a captive in a chair

Of simplicity and pain

Tell me to be creative

Tell me to find meaning

In senseless words

And empty phrases

Let me let go

I want to tell you how I feel

I want to let the words flow

Like water cuts through stone

Forge your emotions anew

And open your eyes to my world

But here you sit

And here you lecture

Telling me what I do wrong

When all I can hear

Is my heart

Telling me that to defy the rules

To write who I am

To leave the directions behind Is right

Chapter One: Aalia Grace

Cassandra Meyer, Grade 12

1,825 days.

5 years.

That’s how long I have been in this awful place. It has been five years since I was sentenced for a crime I didn’t commit—well, the treason I had committed, but not the murder. And now the fear that any minute a guard could walk into my cell to take me to my death haunted me. But maybe death, in this case, was a mercy, maybe it was my ticket to freedom.

As I etched my final mark with a spoon I managed to hide; all I thought about were my friends and how I would never see them again. I would never laugh with Malik, never joke around with Kalvin, and never share secrets with Phoenix. Those ten years of friendship were gone, because of what I had done, because I screwed up.

The slot at the bottom of the metal door clicked, and I knew that my first meal of the day was coming through. My stomach stopped protesting at the stale bread, cold beans, and raw, sometimes rotting vegetables. Each bite took a piece of energy from me as I forced myself to swallow the horrible texture of each food, but I had to eat it if I wanted to survive, at least that is what I told myself, tried to convince myself. But today that determination was low; today marked five years, which meant my death was coming at any time.

As I swallowed the last mushy carrot, I heard the lock on my door click. It was the first time in 1,825 days that I heard that lock click; the last time was when they had pushed me in here and shut the door forever. But now it was making noise and then the door opened and light filtered in. I resisted the urge to back up against the wall and cringe from the brightness. I would not let them win, not let them see how broken and shattered I was inside.

A man stepped into the room. He was tall with short dark hair and oozed power and confidence. He had a sword strapped to his side, and when he stepped in front of the light and revealed his face I did my best not to show any reactions.

He must have noticed my surprised look because he smirked at me. “Hello, Aalia Grace,” his voice was deeper than it was five years ago, but then again he had grown into a man, while I had grown into nothing but skin and bones. “Remember me?”

“Yes,” I whispered, suddenly feeling very small as he towered over me.

“Do you?” he asks with a menacing smile. He was toying with me and enjoying it.

“Your Prince Cadelle,” I tried to raise my voice above a whisper, trying to sound strong, but I failed. If only I had the strength to smack the smirk off his face.

“Do you know why I am here, Aalia Grace?” he asked. I hated the way my name sounded on his tongue.

I raised my voice and forced myself to sound stronger. “It’s been 1,825 days. Which means it’s been five years.” He glanced over at the tallies etched into the wall. “You’re here to bring me to my death.”

He chuckled. “Looks like the guards didn’t do well to keep track of what came in and out of your cell,” he comments at the tallies and then looks at the spoon.

I didn’t comment; I didn’t have the energy to come up with some sort of comeback.

He grabbed me and pushed me up against the wall, my back to him. I felt the shackles go onto my wrists and tried not to fight against them.

“Time to pay for my brother's death,” he whispered into my ear before guiding me into the hall. We made so many turns it was hard to keep track, not that it mattered; I wouldn’t be stepping back into this place. A part of me was happy about it, relieved as he led me through the giant front doors and out to the fenced in courtyard of the Davarian Prison.

I saw the stake. It was tall and metal, and was set in the middle of a stone platform so that everyone could watch me as I burned to my death. I was going to die just as my parents did, by fire.

I thought of them as Prince Cadelle walked us closer to the platform. I thought of my friends and fellow Mages.

I had failed them all. And now I was going to pay for it.

KewaskumHighSchool

Your Faceless Memory

Kellan Schutz, Grade 10

I miss you

You have no face and no color

Just a vague feeling of comfort that surrounds your memory

You have no age, though I suppose you would be as old as I am I need you to tell me because my memory fails me.

Recesses after lunch spent climbing up the castle that was the school’s jungle gym.

Warning shouts at us to stay out of the ditch beside the school, because the teacher couldn’t see us

Dirty, scraped knees on the blacktop after throwing a ball around with the atrocious aim only a five or six-year-old could have

But though you have no face, I cannot remember you.

Maybe I can remember your long black hair.

Or was it short?

Did you love sports like I did? Did you love art like I did? Where are you now?

Where is your face in the memories that bring me so much comfort from my childhood?

Where nothing mattered but if it rained, and if we could play outside after lunch or not

Were you my friend?

Or are you just the one person my memory spared?

Do you remember picking large yellow dandelions from the side of the pavement? Only to toss them away, down onto that same concrete when we had to go inside Where they were stepped on till flattened, akin to a beautiful flower, delicately placed in the pages of a book

Did we sit together in class learning our ABCs and how to count?

Did I ever see you elsewhere? At a sport? Were you on my team?

Were you on the other team? Or were you in the stands?

Did you care when I moved away? Or did you move on like I did? I need you to tell me because my memory fails me Because our young minds couldn’t remember anything at the time Because our memories are so clouded that I can’t remember your face, your hair, or the rest of you, just as you can’t remember me, we are just a vague, comforting memory to each other, lost forever into the depths of our minds

I don’t know why I care for you, it’s been almost a decade since I’ve felt your presence, I don’t know where, or who you are now And I doubt I will ever find out Maybe we pass by each other on the street, or at the store, perhaps you will start going to my school. But we will not know each other, you are a stranger to me now

You are faceless and so am I

Were you real?

Or were you an imaginary friend my mind came up with to make me seem not as alone as a child?

To give me friends?

Is that why I can’t remember you?

I long for a friendship as true as yours, while I know we will never again meet the same

Do you miss me, too?

Out Empty Grave

Kellan Schutz, Grade 10

I was thirteen when I first killed her

I will stand at her grave when no one will because no one else knows she died.

There is no wood casket to be buried, just an empty hole in the ground where the ashes of her memory lie.

There are no flowers, no lilies held in grieving palms, just my fists full of long grass, torn from the ground, that will be thrown into the grave where she is buried.

There is no tombstone, just a rock with our name messily written into it with the ashes of a fire once flurried.

She and I both do not want anything to be remembered of her

I was thirteen when I first killed her

We did not want to be reminded of her, but others have often mistaken me for her, comparing me to her, she is not me.

We did not want to be reminded of her, but there is a picture of her with long hair and a sweatshirt outside during a cold night.

We did not want to be reminded of her, yet every time I look in the mirror all I see is her tired face staring back at mine.

I cannot escape her death, and she cannot escape my life. No matter how much she wants to be forgotten, and no matter how much I take her place.

I am thirteen, when I first kill her

A Fish and Its Bowl

Kellan Schutz, Grade 10

I am always out of my bowl.

I do not want to be.

Yet, they place me in a tank with cold water, and flat rocks at the bottom. Other fish rest at the bottom, or slowly tap away at the glass

I dream of returning to my bowl, small pebbles lining the floor, and room temperature.

They pluck me from my bowl and place me elsewhere.

I do not want to leave my bowl.

Yet I am placed into a tank of warm water with sharp pointed rocks at the bottom, the other fish swim fast, and in odd formations.

I wish I could return to my bowl, perfection cannot be beaten.

They take me from my bowl and throw me somewhere different, but not.

The water is room temperature, and the floor has small, round pebbles. It’s like home, but it’s not. I hate it, if it’s not home I hate it.

My bowl is better, safer, and though it might not have a filter, it’s growing algae, and there’s no one else, it’s my bowl, and it’s safer

“Set Myself On Fire”

Grace Monte, Grade 10: All dialogue is lyrics from ‘Set Myself On Fire’ by Taeyeon

A girl who reflects on her break up and why it happened.

“It's okay even if I’m alone,” I said to myself looking in the mirror I knew it was a lie “You’re not even like that, you feel lonely all the time, dont lie to me” I said to myself, unable to understand the meaning of why this had happened. I then tried to think of excuses for why I did what I did. I looked into the mirror and spoke, “You had a lot of things going on, so you needed time That's why you did that, I understand I know you very well ” I looked at myself and felt pure disappointment Tears formed in my eyes as I spoke to myself “Are you trying to run away?” For I knew I was telling myself lies in order to run away from the true me I spoke “Can’t you even see me?” I knew the answer for I couldnt even look at myself I ask myself, “Was I that bad to you?” After saying this, I then realized I was pitying myself I spoke “I don't want to hear it I realized I was making excuses I thought about how he seemed much more happy now that I was gone. I spoke. “More brightly you laugh; it's sad.” I begin to reminisce in the memories of being with him I spoke “Being beside you, it's still far away” I then realized I wanted him back I spoke “What can I do to hold you?” I would do anything I looked into my eyes as I stared into the mirror. I spoke. “Should I set myself on fire?” I knew it was wrong of me, but I longed to be close to him once again like before I spoke “So that we won't get far away from each other” I tried to make reasons for this want and desire I spoke “We should hold on tight to eachother” Yes! This was perfect, we could go back to the happy us we were before. I spoke. “I’ll warm up your cold heart.” I knew what I had to do. I speak one last time to myself, looking into the mirror “I'm gonna set myself on fire” I look at my face, into my eyes, I see the fire embers glow I knew it was my destiny, what had to be done I step away from the mirror, fore I'm going to set myself on fire

‘Poems’

Shiri Zechlin, Grade 12

Dilapidatedold barn, but oh so well loved Useful to the end. ~

A field of yellow flowers Soft grass beneath, and starry sky above A forest rustles nearby, a wolf’s mournful cry, and I am safe once again

a wolf stands at the gate. it reminds you of things you have loved, and things you have lost neither of you are the same.

a wolf runs next to you a spare glance, and he is gone. the absence is narrow, but you feel it all the same.

there is a wolf at the gate to your heart It looks at you, and you look at it. a tear slips down your face, and a tear falls from the wolf’s eye

there is a wolf and when you look into its eyes, you realize that wolf is you

● things i say

● Lauren Rettler, Grade 11

● i say i don’t care,

● but i always do

● smiling, i say hello,

● even if i don’t like you.

● i say i know

● when i’m really not sure,

● and i say i’m fine

● when i’m feeling insecure.

● i say it’s okay

● when it’s really not,

● and i say i can handle it,

● even when it’s a lot.

● i say i feel the same way,

● even though i don’t.

● i say i promise i will,

● but honestly, i probably won’t.

● i say all of these things,

● things i don’t even mean

● but what i say doesn’t matter,

● as long as the things i think stay unseen

●

● still love.

● Lauren Rettler, Grade 11

● when you loved someone,

● but you still love them:

● the moment when love

● is still,

● frozen,

● unmoving

● when you still love someone,

● your love is still

●

● funny how things change

● Lauren Rettler, Grade 11

● funny how things change,

● especially from now to last fall

● the person i trusted the most

● now i don’t talk to at all.

● and the one guy

● who had broken my heart,

● i can’t begin to imagine

● the two of us apart.

● funny how things change,

● like winter to spring.

● and who can tell now

● what the future will bring.

●

● the paradox of trust

● Lauren Rettler, Grade 11

● trust is a funny thing

● earned in forever,

● gone in an instant

● just when you think you might have it,

● turns out it was never there

● in the first place

●

● beauty

● Lauren Rettler, Grade 11

● i’ve always wanted

● to own items of beauty:

● pretty clothes,

● pretty jewelry.

● because after all,

● everyone always wants

● something they do not have.

Moths

Grace Monte, Grade 10

When I look at you I get moths in my stomach

For the butterflies Are dead.

● (Untitled):

● Macy Reysen, Grade 12

●

● I wish I could live inside a flower.

● Always smelling sweet,

● and never ever sour

● Inside a flower,

● it’d make time fly,

● and an entire day

● would only feel like an hour.

● Sure I’d be alone,

● but to me that’s home

● It’ll keep me safe and secure,

● hidden away from all that’s unsure.

●

● Written in The Stars:

● Macy Reysen, Grade 12

●

● Your love to me is like the Sun,

● Warm and safe,

● Never coming undone.

● To me you are

● Like the brightest shining star.

● My love for you runs deep like outer space,

● It’s something that can never be replaced

● You and I are like the planets spinning in orbit,

● Forever together

● We swore by it.

ADyingFate

HaileyAdams,Grade11

(Poeminspiredby‘BecauseDeathCouldNotStopforMe’byEmilyDickinsonand‘AGoodManis

HardtoFind’byFlanneryO’Connor)

Therearetimeswhendeathisdeserved,andtherearetimeswhenitisnot Eitherway,thereisa timewheneveryonemustdie;itjustdependsonwhetherit'sapunishmentforwrongdoingorapeaceful breakfromabusylife Often,youcandetermineadeserveddeathfromapeacefuloneifitiswelcoming andnotrushed,abeautifulthingreally,fullofclosurefromalifewell-lived, orifitwererushed,painful, andratherunpleasant,thenitmustbewelldeserved.Ifonecannotadmitone'sownsinsandselfishness, theyaretheverypeopletheyclaimnottobe,anddeathwillnotwelcomethembutratherteachthema lesson,anditisthenthatdeathisnotbeautiful,somethingyoushouldfear.Itbecomesasbeautifulasthe insidesofeverypersonittakes,andifoneisuglyunderneaththeskin,deathbecomeshideoustoo. Becausedeathseesthetruth,eventhroughagood-lookingperson;theyseemorethanaglance,seeing straightthroughthem,andthoughothersmaynotpunishthem,deathwillmakethemgetwhattheytruly deserve

Ill

Alexa Nowack, Grade 11

It was 2038 when the Protection of Healthy Persons Act passed. To protect those previously treated for the virus plaguing the streets, the Act decreed that all of the Healthy should be relocated to designated ‘Safe Zones’. Whilst infected people were sent to the areas abandoned by the Healthy and left empty by those who’d passed during the first breakout

The population of the United States had declined by nearly a third over three years. The government decided to try and salvage what was left of the country The Sick were left with nothing, placed into random towns across the Midwest. They weren’t allowed to leave, they weren’t allowed to contact any Healthy relatives, and they had to stay until they died

‘An Ethical Nightmare’ was what one Journalist named the Act. Of course, most people agreed, especially with treatment readily available to those who had half a million dollars to cough up But when it came down to protecting their families over randos on the street, nobody dared oppose it. They wanted to be rid of the sickness one way or another

Eventually, men and women dressed in protective gear and gas masks began rounding up those who couldn’t afford treatment. They were carted away forcibly while the Healthy stared down from their penthouses, trying not to feel too bad for the sickly. They’d be dead soon.

I didn’t put up a fight when the round-up faction came for my spot on the corner of Bunsen Avenue and Willard Way. Our tents were torn apart and searched for anyone who might try to escape their fate They didn’t even bother to verify whether we were actually ill yet. Either way, it was an excuse to rid the streets of us.

The journey was hours long We only stopped once, yet we were not allowed off. We were herded into large trucks meant for hauling cargo. Still, we were only allotted enough room to stand shoulder-to-shoulder It was so dark that I could not even see the face of the man standing beside me. The darkness was filled with sounds of coughing and sniffling. At one point a young girl began to weep while her mother shushed her No one dared utter a word beyond that.

We were now a country of Sick Zones and Safe Zones. The Healthy had started building walls around their cities when the round-ups began. I had read a newspaper article describing the plan for the sick zones earlier in the month.

The author described the ghost towns that had been designated just for us. The areas of the first breakouts that hadn’t been treatable. The emptiness stretched for miles from coast to coast, those who had survived were quickly evacuated to a place where they could receive the newly discovered treatment.

The towns had all become overgrown by three years without upkeep. No one had dared set foot in any of them for fear that they would immediately be infected with the original strain of the virus. As if it were any different than what infected the people who roamed the streets

When I stepped out of the truck, everything was quiet. Besides the sounds of people breathing and the soft rumble of the truck engine, there was nothing No music, no lawnmowers, no construction, no talking, nothing. The miles of neighborhoods and businesses had once been bustling with families and people going every which way. I couldn’t help but imagine who had once loved the street I was standing on. So many people had existed in the place that was now our prison.

Death from the sickness was slow and painful. Mucus would gradually fill your lungs until you could no longer breathe Some lasted longer than others.

All I could do was wait for death to overtake me. Until the news of an escape came

Silent But BOLD

Anonymous, Grade 10

It's been 2 weeks 4 different license plates are plugged into my notes app on my phone It's been a rough summer already She’s gone, once again I'm not surprised Why can't I be enough for her? Why am I getting treated like this? Do I deserve this? For a short answer, No I am trembling on my bed, with my phone in my hand I thought to myself This is the time to do it, she is gone What can she do? I googled the non-emergency police number and dialed it into my phone As it rings my heart starts to race, feeling the blood pump through my veins and ringing in my ear The more the rushing thoughts come in, the more I realize I can't do it

“Hello, Non-emergency line-” the sweet lady's voice on the other side of the line cut off, the red button was pushed immediately

I didn't even let her finish her introduction What if she could have helped or done something to help me I just ruined it I started to contemplate if what I did was the right choice While I was lost in thought the door slams and I hear a groggy man's voice from downstairs. Who has she brought home this time? I am deeply scared for my brother and myself, all these substances around me All these unsafe people. All these people that haven't said anything. Why? Even when they visually see what is wrong and they don't try to stop it in any way Are they on her side?

The next day I am sitting on the couch downstairs. She asked if she could use my bike and I replied

“no.” As she goes to walk off she says to me with a piercing look in her eye

“Well why, It's not like you even go outside or help around the house, you don't even appreciate me”

I felt numb as I replied shortly and dryly “Fine” she was going to use my bike anyway Why did she even ask? She knew this question was going to end in an argument either way.

The next day she asked me if I would like to go to Target I was thrown off, because of how our last conversation went. Normally she never forgets our fights, bringing them up for weeks and reminding me how I upset her Rubbing it in like alcohol on a fresh torn wound

I replied “Yeah, that would be nice ” As I walked downstairs he was sitting there on the couch, with his head bowed between his arms that rested on his knees I can tell something is off, he looks upset, jealous, exhausted, or maybe even worried

“Where do you think you're going?” he demands

“Im going to take Aubrie to Target ” she responds As I walk out of the door and towards the car, I take a deep breath Getting in the car and out of the small town onto the freeway is scary in itself I am grabbing the wheel every 47 seconds, she dosses off again and again I am tempted to wake her up with a slap behind her head Like she has done to me, maybe it will make her act better or make the right decision Learning to drive from the passenger seat isn't the best We are on the road for about 15 minutes, We pass Target and my gut drops Of course Passing the same signs over again “Good Hope '' There isn't any hope in this area, they are contradicting the town name in itself She is on the phone with “Smiley” while passing the numbered streets

She tells me, “Look for 87th street”

I quietly respond “Okay”

At the stop sign a car rolls next to us I can't help but notice that they are getting pushed from the car behind them. I don't understand why, Other than being out of gas or a low battery.

“Aubrie!” she caught my attention with her terrifying scream She then curses at me for a good while, just to make sure I know how she feels and what I am to her.

“Ugh! South not North” she starts to throw a tantrum Deep down I want to jump out of the car and run. Anywhere, just run. Far far away from her, and far away from the fear I carry with me everyday on my back I stay there quietly with no response, as we come to a sharp stop, she gets out and slams the door I opened my notes app again… 4Y6-P7V8. When will it stop? When will she get clean for me, and my brother Or just for herself My anger is filling up inside of me ready to burst I wonder what would happen, how strong would I be? I can't see the inside of the car at all, I'm not so sure how many people are in that car I have come to believe she is not well, she is not capable of taking care of herself, especially her own two kids.

As she stumbles her way back to the car, I prepared myself by collecting all of my thoughts The hinges creek as she opens the driver's door My seat belt has been on since she left, I'm ready to leave,

can't she tell I want to go home now more than going to Target with her after her run The drive home is not much more than I expected, she didn't hesitate to slow down or mention Target at all. We are 15 minutes from my room, my wrecked home, my unsafe-safe place for now She has gained back some attention span once we are pulling in the parking lot I can't tell if this is what she thinks or understands what a clean refreshed mindset should be I get out of the car with no excitement to face the overloading amount of questions I know he is about to ask Where are your bags? Did you lie to me? As soon as I step into the door I march up the stairs to my bedroom Taking a leap into my bed, to finally feel comfort and relaxation No worries, that is until the yelling starts again I can’t tell how long this will go on for I am hoping neither one of them comes up barging into my room asking for me to supply evidence or back up their alibi I should’ve just walked down the road after I got out of the car to the police station I should have finished that phone call, They would have already had a tip all they needed to do was locate the guy and follow him Sometimes I wish I had a different mom, a different life Or just to start over, maybe I can prevent her from falling into addiction What am I even saying it's not my fault, it's not my fault for hanging up and not reporting those license plates I didn't get asked to be put into this life, or to go through these types of situations as a young child. My mind is completely split.

lifeguard

MckenzieUniewski,Grade10

Idrowninmythoughts

whileyouwatch

Sittingafloat

artists with halos

MckenzieUniewski,Grade10

Skiesbleedofviolent pinksandoranges

Engulfedbyanexplosionofclouds

Sheawakesus

Tobeauty

Trauma

MckenzieUniewski,Grade10

I'vecarriedtheweightoftheworldonmyshoulders

Sinceiwasalittlegirl

Iwatchedeverythingilovedieorleave

Andgotbackuponmyown

Asthoughitdidn't

Ruinme

Independence

MckenzieUniewski,Grade10

Ihavemyfathersrage

Andmymothersabilitytowalkaway

I'velearned

Thisisaverylonelycombination

Overloving heart

MckenzieUniewski,Grade10

Ikilledaplantoncebecauseioverwateredit Lord

Iworryloveisviolence

Humanity’s Heart

Maddie Boelte, Grade 12

Listen carefully, kid

There are certain things that you will have to go through

Situations that nobody is ever ready for

Yet you have to remember it’s not by closing your heart

That you get through them

Yet, it’s the other way around

Never lose your humanity

Mosaic

Maddie Boelte, Grade 12

Deep down it matters more than you’ll understand

You gave me shards of glowing stained glass that I store deep in the depths of my soul

And when solitude takes my by the hand

I look at these fragments and remind myself

There’s more to fight for

Cold Caresses

Maddie Boelte, Grade 12

I’ve been gone for too long

Leaving you in the bitter cold and empty caresses

Meeting the sad body of my soul lover

I have a lot to be forgiven for Night Skies

Maddie Boelte, Grade 12

You are my starlight

So tonight I’ll make you transform into Nebulous Storms Stars And Galaxies

I Am Here Now

Haley Honeyager, Grade 10

I am here now

The soothing music comforts my ears

The blinding lights take control of my eyes

Leading them onto the next part of life

The hope that used to evade my heart like a plague

Rests now in my soul comfortably

My heart beating to the rhythm I choose

I am my own

Nobody will ever take that from me again

People will continue to come and go in my life

But I will be with me forever

So I learn to love me

Let go of all the guilt and shame that wraps my body

Let go of all the times I've been shattered

After a certain amount of times

The glue overtakes the glass

Leaving something brand new

I am brand new

I am here now

To my dear parents from your happy girl

Mia Winkler, Grade 12

wipe your tears cover your heart keep your mouth shut don't let it out

just so they don't hear their own daughter falling apart

LovingSomeoneYouKnowisBadforYou MiaWinkler,Grade12

I think now it is only a mere thought

I miss the laughter you brought.

I miss your smile,

I haven't seen it in awhile

I still crave your sweet lies.

Crave for your eyes to look into mine

PlymouthHighSchool

EmptyVessels

JulianArbuckle,Grade11

Icouldn’tbeartoseepeoplewastetheirlifeaway

likehowIrupturedmyown.

Ifilledthoseemptyvesselswithwords thatgavetheirexistencemeaning Theywantedtoexperience whatwasleftoflife. because of what I did

Ihatethinkingabouthowsomepeople nevergottheirguardianangel

Ihatethinkingabouthowsomepeople neverlistentootherswhocare.

Ihatethinkingabouthowsomepeople nevergivethemselvesasecondopportunity, till it is far too late

Emptyvesselsthatnevergottoreachtheirdestination

Emptyvesselsthatgaveup too soon.

Drowning

AliviaBlanke,Grade12

Ithinkthehardestpartaboutgrowingup

Isrealizingthateveryoneisdrowning. Drowningintheirhardships, Intheirownthoughts

Ithinkit’sevenhardertorealize

There’snothingwecandotohelpkeepeveryoneafloat; Peoplearegoingtosink

Andyettheonlythingwecandoisfight. Fightforthesmallchanceofair

Whenyourlungsandbodyaretootiredtokeepgoing

Drainingthewaterisquitepossiblythehardestthingofall Seeingashowwe’realldowning Andwhilesomemayonlybeinafewinches Orsomeevenafewfeet

Drowningisdrowningnomatterhowdeep.

I’mFine

AliviaBlanke,Grade12

I'mfine

Sometimesitfeelsliketheonlypersonwhocaresisyou

AndIliketopretendthatI'mokaywiththattruth Butit'snotaneasyprocess

It’shardtofindpeacewiththefactthattheonlypersonwhobelievesinyou Isyourself.

Evenonthedaysyoudon’t.

AndI'msotiredofhearingthemeaningless “I’mhereforyou”and “Itwillgetbetter”

Thosewordsarereleasedfromabeingwhohasneverexperiencedsuchadisease.

Theymayneverknowhowwefeel

Theymayneverknowwhatit’sliketoforceyourselftopeelfromyourbed Ortopickupthebrushandtendtoyourself.

Whatit'sliketonoteatforhoursonend Oreventakeasipofwater

Allbecauseyoujustfeellikeyoudon'tneedit.

Andyoucouldn’tbebotheredtryingtoforceyourself

Notwiththeonlyenergyyoumayhave

Soyousleep Andsleep Andsleep.

Becausesleepistheonlythingthathelpssubsidethepain Untilyoufinallyrealize

Sleepdoesn’thelpthementallytired.

YouSay

VioletWiess,Grade11

Yousaythis,yousaythat

AllIhearisthetappingontheglass

AsIseeyourpresence,

Theglow theessence

Yousayputmeondepressants

YousayI'mnotgoodenough

YousayI'mahater

thatI'matraitor

Timewasn'tinourfavor

I'mafailure

I'llseeyoulater

Ihopeit'sanever

YousayI'vemessedupthistime

Whataboutallwedidinourlife?

I'mfilledwithguilt

Whataboutthefuturewebuilt?

Allfornothing?

YousayI'mdisgusting

I'madjusting

I'malive

Ijustneedtorevive

Myself

Isitjustme?

Orareyoucryinglikeafreak?

Doesyourheartstopwhenmynamedrops?

Yousaynothing

Forthefirsttime

Nothing

AllIdonowislayinbedandcry

Rememberthatnight?

Ineedtobeokay

Inowhavetofight

Togetyououtofmymind

NowIhavetohitrewind

Youhavenothingtosay?

I'membarrassedthatIusedtohaveyouinmylife

Outof8billionpeople

Iwishsomeonecouldhelpme

Allbecauseyousaidthosewords

Youstoppedsayingthem

I'mgoingthroughchanges

Couldyoushowmesomepatience?

HowcomeI'msodifferent?

Maybeit'sjustaphase

I'mokay

Trapped

CierraPierrenger,Grade11

Infinitedarkness

takesoveryoursoul Invisiblewound, noneedtoshow

Inescapablesorrow

consumesyouwhole Inexplicableemptiness, noonewillknow Illusionsofhope

starttofadeaway Insidetheabyss, you'reforcedtostay

MissMaya

KylieTerMaat,Grade9

Ilovemydaughter,she'severythingtome Irememberthedayshewasborn Sheweighedonly4 poundsand11ounces.IgottoholdherforthefirsttimeasIwatchedherbrightblueeyeslookupatme,filled withjoyandcuriosity.Iwasexcitedandscared,butIknewfromthenonitwouldbeMayaandIagainstthe world MymotherneversupportedmebecauseIwasonly16whenIhadher,butthat’swhyIgivesomuchto Maya Sosheknowswhatit’sliketobelovedandcaredforunconditionally Todayisher7thbirthday,theskyclearandblue Wakingup,Istruggledtogetoutofbed Itfeltlike100 poundweightsweretiedtomyarmsandlegs.Afterbringingmyselftogetup,Iwenttothestoretogetflowers andacupcakeforthespecialday.Imakesuretochoosetheprettiestliliesandheadtothepark.Isitdownina spotshadedbyaWeepingWillow,thesoundofchildrenplayinginthedistance,andthinkaboutcallingmymom Idon’t Instead,Idecidetowalksomemore,toclearmymind Ipassamotherandherdaughter,smilingand laughing,andaskwherethey’reheaded.Themomsaysthatit’sherdaughter'sbirthdayandtheyareontheirway tocelebratewithicecream.Theyounggirlasksmeabouttheflowers,soItellherthatI’monmywaytosurprise mydaughterforherbirthday ThemomsuggeststhatourgirlsplaysometimeattheparkandIagree Suddenly,I decideI’minahurryandfindmyselfonmywaytoseeMaya Themusicinthecarseemedblaringloud,soI quicklyturnitoffandrealizeI’mgrippingthesteeringwheelsohardmyknucklesarewhite Iloosenmygrip AfterIarrive,IstepoutofmyblueVolkswagen,grabtheflowersfromthebackseat,andwalktofindher.

“HappyBirthday,Angel!”,IsayasIsitandlaytheflowersnexttohergrave.Isetthecupcakedown, grabacandleandlighter,andsinghappybirthday,hopingthewinddoesn’tpickup IsitwithMayafortherestof theday

PetPoem

KileySchultz,Grade11

Thoughwemustnowpart, thankyouforbeingheresincethestart.

Ihopethoseaboveenjoyyouwell, fortheonesdownhere

Wewelcomehell

Youtaughtmehowtoreceivelove, NowImustgrieveyourloss.

ThoughImaynotdoitalone, Thishousenolongerishome

Homeformewaswithyou,nowitcan’tbetrue

HowIwishwehadmoretime, Yethereweareattheendofourline.

Ipraytomeetoncemore, nomatterhowlongIhavetowaitashore

Nowthatyou’resafeupabove, Igiveyouallmylove.

Noheartwillhealmine, nottillwehavemoretime

NowIhavetosaygoodbye, thoughmytearswillneverbedry.

MovingOn

KileySchultz,Grade11

Neverunderestimatethefeelingofloss

Itwillcomefromseeminglynowhere,

Justtostrikeyouwhereithurtsmost.

Youcanbuildupplentyofwallsbut,

Thatonestrikewilltearittotheground

Lossisheartache,fear,andconflict, Allrolledintoaverystubbornthing.

Trytomoveon,theysay.

Asifyourhearthasn’tbeenrippedfromyourachingchest

Asifyoudon’tseethemwhereveryoulook

Allittakesisthatoneinstancetomakeyoufeelshook

Thememoriesallflashatonce.

Youcan’tbreatheorthink

Youcanonlyfeeltheweightofitall

Yourememberthelasttimeofeveryevent

Thenallyoufeelisspent.

Foryoureyesshednomoretears.

Yourheartachedulls

Andyoufinallyseetheend

Itmaytakeweeksormonthsbut, onedaythatfeelingwillcome.

Untilthenyoutreasurethemwithlove

Oncethatdayhascomeyouwillbereadytomoveon

LittleBrother

DanaSmith,Grade12

IwasbornonJune22nd,2006. Mymotherwasonly17, Averyyoungagetohavechildren

Intheresultofthisshedroppedout, Putnoeffortintograduating.

I’mnow17yearsoldandIthinkaboutthis Itscaresmethatthiscouldhappentomeaswell, ButI'llbecareful

Idonotwishtobecomemymother

ItwasnotmyfaultIwasputintothisworld, Whenshedidn’tevenknowhowtopaytaxes

Eventhoughshewasyoungshewantedanother, Andsoyouwerecreatedlittlebrother

Youwould’veonlybeenaroundoneyearyounger

Iwould’veguidedyouinthistoughworld, Helpyouwithmultiplication,

Readtoyou, Embracedyouifourparentseverfought, Congratulateyouonyourachievements.

Helpyoucreatealifeofyourown

ButI'mgladyoudidn’tmakeit

Yousee, Thisworldisalot

It’snotyourfaultourmotherwentinsaneafteryourdeath. It'snotyourfaultourparentssplit

Idonotblameyouforsuch

Itwasalreadytoughforthem, Andmotherwasalreadynutty

Ifyouhadlived, Youwould’veseenhowharshpeoplecanbe, Theterriblechangethatsocietyhasbecome Ididn'twanttoseeyousuffer, Ididn'twanttoseeyouupset. Itdidn’thelpthatwithgenetics, Wewould’vebeenscrewed

Mentalillnesseslingerbetweenbothourbloods, Ididn’twantyoutosufferwiththattoo

SoI'mgladyoudidntmakeit, I'lltakethebulletsforyou. You'llliveinmyheart, Andnotdealwithterriblepeople I'llshieldyouinthisworld. Youcanseealltheseevents, Fromtheperspectiveofmyeyes

WhereI'lltakeyourplace, Soyoudonotgethurt

Afterall,

You’remylittlebrother, Andtheoldersiblingsmustprotecttheyounger.

I’msureyouwould’veagreedwithme,Shelby

UnexpectedGoodbye

AustinGilbert,Grade12

thethoughtnevercrossed thatmaybe, itwould’vebeenthelasttime. thelasttimeIheldyourhand, ranmyhandsthroughyourhair, kissedyourlips, huggedyourphysique. maybeifIweren’tsonaive buthowcouldIthink thatthiswouldend sopromptly, soabruptly?

ifIwouldhaveusedmyhead, thenmaybeiwould’vehuggedyou alittleharder

orpressedmylipsagainstyours alittlelonger.

Isithereandponder, whileahundredmilesaway, youdreamofnewhorizons. horizonsexcludingme

Isithereandponder

ifyoustillloveme, like I love you

MasqueradeBall

AustinGilbert,Grade12

amasquerade, ordeceptionifyouwill. createdtoblurone’svision, persistentinconcealing thetruth. wordsspoken onlyifyouweretoomit, wouldyoudiscoverthetruenature. no,thisisn’ttruelove, it’sthetruth aboutlove

PawnedOff

AustinGilbert,Grade12

youoncetoldme, thiswasn’thowitwasgonnabe, thatiwouldn’tbe, whereiamrightnow, writingmelancholypoetry, aboutyou yethereisit, wonderingwhatyou’reupto becauseatonepointiknew you’dkeepmeintheloop, knowingimeantsomethingtoyou, ormaybethat’sjustit, whileyoumeantsomethingtome, didievermeananythingtoyou? orwasijustanotherpawn, inyourgameofchess? anotherdispensablepiece, you’dbewilling, tolose

BleedingInk

AustinGilbert,Grade12

WhenIwrite, Ithinkaboutyou

Themesmerizingflow

Ofmyrapidlydryingpen

Mypapermarkedwithmytears

Onthosesombernights

Thedreamsfromthosenights

WillbeanewsubjectwhichIwrite Followedbyariveroftears

Resultingfromyou

Mypaperbecomingplasteredbypen Whilemythoughtsflow.

Mymemorieshaveastartlingflow

WhenIlookbacktothosenights

Andsketchthemoutinpen

Ibegintowrite

Theonlythinginmyheadisyou

WhileIresideinapuddleoftears

Bytheend,Ihavenomoretears

Duetotheheavyflow

ThatensueswhenIrememberyou

Andhowweusedtospendthosenights

You’rethereasonIwrite

Andgothroughpenafterpen

Iamaconvictedmurdererofapen

Washingtheirinkybloodwithmytears

IkillthemwhileIwrite

Maintainingasteadyflow

Ihaveanaccompliceeverynight

Itisyou

Innocentareyou?

Butyouwerethesubjectofthepen

Repeatedeverynight

Youaremywastedtears

ThereasonIletmyeyesflow

AndthereasonIwrite

RiponHighSchool

MadilynKasuboski

Grade12

“TheLastGreenLeaf”

Numbing

Thefrigidcoldisfreezingmyveins, Thenewseasonhashitandthingsarechanging I,thelastgreenleaf,attempttohangon I’mlonelyandmyfriendsarenowheretobe found

Theyhavefallenandlosttheircolor

Iamsurroundedbyblankness

IwonderifIwilleverbewarmagainofifthisisit

IceandwindtriestotakemeawaybutIholdon

I’mfreezingbutstillherehopingmycolor remainsdespiteitall

Eachtimethecoldhitsitburns, Makingmelosetimeinpreparationforwhat comesnext

WhathappenswhenI’mnolongergreen?

Willtheylookatmethesame

ItscoldandIfeelmyveinsfreezing, It’shappeningmoreandmore

Myvividcolorisfadingandthere'snothingIcan do

Iamsurroundedbyblankness

Thestormmovesrapidly, Andhereitistotakemeaway

MygreenisgoneandIamblank

Ihavebecomedefenselessandletthestormtakeit all

NowI’mcolorless,surroundedbyblanknessand lonely,

Despiteitall.

“TheLadyandHerShoes”

Shewokeupthismorninginherplace

Justlikeeveryday,sheputhershoesonthesame, unlaced.

Herneighborstoldherhershoeswerelame, butshelovedthemplain.

Onceshewasonewiththeshoesshewentfrom doortodoor

Theladywasunsureofwhatshewastruly lookingfor

Inahuffshe’dheadbackhome. Stillinhershoes;shefeltalone.

Theycarriedherawaytillshegotbored

Andsoonhertearsfilledtheshoesastheypoured. Theshoescouldn’tcontainallhersorrow, Sotheybroke,unabletocarryherintotomorrow

“Mr Moon”

Inoticedyouamongstallthestars, Yourfaintglowiswhatdrewmetoyou

Icouldn’thelpbutlookupatyou

Wheneveryousmiledatme,Ismiledback. OhhowyourlightledthewayeverywhereIwent

Itwasyouwhoguidedmethroughthedarkness, Thecolddarknessthatcreptuponmetimeand timeagain.

Butyourdimbrightnesskeptmeaglow

IwishIcouldsaythatyouweretheonlymoonI lookedat.

ButitwasyouintheendthatIsawdancing amongthestars

Atrancewouldwashoverme,waitingforyouto shinebrighter,andyoudid

Perhapsitwasmydoing,butI’dliketostay modest

Foryou’retheonlymoonthat'shelpedmeescape. AndforthatIthankyou

HayleySmith

Grade11

“FadingSoul”

Runningafterafadingsoulcrying

Feelslikeknivescuttingthroughyourfragileheart

Theangerisreleasedfrominsideout

Everystepmakesthehopefeeldesperate

I'msittingundertheskiesofdespair

Twosouls,twopassings,twocrushingnightmares

Ifeartheworstformynowbrokenheart

Mybreathingiscolderasdayspassby

FeelingonlydespairIleavemytears

mytearssitinaboxfloatingaway

Olddoorsshowandgoodmemoriesshinethrough

Turnedawayrefusingpastmemories

Lyingdownoncoldhardgroundsfearinghim

Fearinghewhotakesthemtoearlyon

ZaneMeyer

Grade12

“ThePassion”

Thepassionisfading

Whatwasonceafruitfulcompanionship, Nowiswithering

Somuchpotentialtobesomethingspecial, Nowitappearsordinary

Soonthecyclewillrestart

Like.Love.Fade.

Justlikeitalwaysdoes

GwenBartlett

Grade9

Thebirdssingsweetly Theflowersbloom

Istepoutsidetosmell Thelovelyspringperfume

Thetreesturngreen

Theskyisbrightblue

Thisisspring

Iknowthat’strue.

Thecloudsturngray

Thewindfiercelyblows

Whathappenedtothespring

Ialwaysknew?

Therainpours

Thepeoplehaveafright Whereisthesun

Thatalwaysshinesbright?

Therainhasstopped

Thewindhasslowed Alas,myoldpal, Thesun,isshown

Theheatstrikesmyface

Ibegintothinkinmymind

Whathappenedtothespringsmell

Icannolongerfind?

Springisgone

Itisnolongerseen

Ionlyseesummer

Thenewseasonqueen

DonovanNorton

Grade12

AManandHisRats

Hewanderedaimlesslythroughthehouseseekinganyformofdistractiontoavoidhisinevitable doom Whydiditfeellikehewasnearingthegallows?Hecouldn'thaveknown,buthetrulywas The endofusallisaficklething,pronetochangeandmanipulationbythefactorsofourlives,andthelives ofthosearoundus.Hewaskeenlyawareofthis,andhewentoutofhiswaytoavoidsuchafate. Boardinghiswindows,neverleavingthehouse,andfeedingononlytheratsinthefloorboardsandwater drippingsfromtheceilingwereonlysomeofthestrategiesheusedtoprolonghiswretchedlife.However, hecontinuedtofeeltheendcallingforhim.Likeawhisperonthewindorachillintheairhefeltit. Knewit.Sensedit.Wouldallhispreparationbefornot?Heponderedthisasthefloorboardscreaking underhisfeetsentshiversthroughthedecrepitshackhecalledhome.Hewanderedfromroomtoroom, searchingforsomething,anythingtostopthiscripplinganxietythatfesteredinhismind,pullingatthe fibersofhisbeingandtearinghimawayfromanyshredofsanity.Hiscastleofglasshadcrackedlong ago,andhisattemptstoliveintheshatteredremainswerefailing.Hebreathedin,keenlyawareofputrid lungs,decayedandmoldedbythefilthhelivedin.Heletoutashudderingexhale,keenlyawareofthe pressurethisputonhischest,nomorethanskinandboneunderhisvermin-fedlifestyle.Hestopped.The floorboardscracked.Soonenough,hefellthrough.

Downinthebasementheawoke Keenlyawareofaratnibblingonhisblackenedtoe,hesatup quicklyandsearchedforanysignofhisimpendingdoom Hesawnone Triumphant,hestood,keenly awareofhispulse,strugglingfruitlesslytobringhismolasses-likebloodtohisextremities Hefeltitfail, andthenumbnessthathadcometocolorhisarmsandlegsremained Thisinturnwasaproductofthe endlesswinternightshefoughtthroughwithoutprotectionagainsttheelements Hewalkedforward, keenlyawareoftherat'sscurriesasitranfromhisfrostbittentoes Hewatcheshissurroundingsintently, searching,feeling,foranyescapefromthedecayedbasement Theratranaroundhisfeet,seemingly oblivioustothedangerheposed,orperhapsignorantofit Whateverthecase,thisratscarelessnessledto itsdemise Hehadhadhisfilloftherat'sskittering,andsohepluckedthecreatureoffofthefloorwith hisatrophiedhandsandshoveditintohisawaitingmouth Hewaskeenlyawareoftherat'sfutile strugglestoescapethewarmdeathofhismaw,howeverhehadexperiencewiththesestrugglesandknew thataquickbiteintothelowerneckoftheanimalwouldenditsstrugglesbeforeitcouldcausedamageto

theinsideofhismouth.Heendedit'slifejustaseasilyasheopenedthedoortothestairwellofthe basement,ashecontinuedhisslowreturntothefirstfloorofthebuilding.Hewaskeenlyawareofthe lightcomingfromthetopofthebrokenoldstairs,signalingtheendingofthecoldnightinfavorof anotherdayoffearandpainatthehandsofthisgodlesshouse;leftabandonedforyearsbeforehechoseit tobehismuse,foritwasjustasbrokenashim Hewaskeenlyaware,asheclimbedthestars,oftheholes andlooseboardsthatmadehisjourneymoreperilousthannecessary,howeverthisawarenesswouldnot reachtowhatwasatthetopofthestairs Hiskeenvisionhadfailedtonoticethattheratshehad previouslymadehisfoodhaddecidedtofightback Theyfellonhimashestoodonthestairs,unawareof hishelplessnessathiscomingdemise First,theytookhisextremities,forescapewasonethinghecould notbeallowedtodo Next,theytookhiseyes,asamercy,forthecomingfeastwouldbemorehorrible thananythinghehadseen Finally,afterlonghoursoftormentatthehandsofthebeasts,theytookhis brain Forhishubriswouldlikelybeafeastforthesmallanimals,ignorantofthecycleoflifeanddeath thattheyweredestinedtouphold

FinnKelly Grade12

“AStarvingArtist”

Theonlylightsourceintheroomwasthestringlightsglowingatoastywarmcolor,illuminating everythingintheroomwithitssoftglow.Windowssoakedinthenight’sdarkness.Tarpslinedthefloors withdrippedpaint.Tablesandbookshelvesaroundtheroom,withscatteredbooks,papers,andwhat seemedtobefinishedpaintings.Theywereincrediblybeautifulyetabstract,mostlyselfportraitsbut clearlyshowingtheirowninsecurities.Thoseweren’tthecenteroftheattentionthough,therewasa canvas,centeroftheroom.Unsettlinglyblank,becausetherewasnolongeranartisttofillthatempty space

EllaDeVries

Grade12

“Encouragement”

Herbloodclungtomybodylikeoil.Mademefeelasifmyskinwassizzling,likeacidhad splatteredoutofher.Impactfromthegroundhadmadeherskintearawayandbonespokedoutinevery direction,eerilylikebranches.

EMT’sannounceddeathonimpact,butanyonecould’veguessedthat

Thecopsdrapedsomethingoverhershatteredbodytoshieldyoungeyes,butwewere already witnessesof thefewsecondsshewasbreathingbeforeshewas suffocatedby concreteandgravity

“What’shappened?”my‘friend’askedbehindme

Smirking,Isaidproudly,“Shefinallyflew”

ReiRubach Grade12

“WeCanAlways”

Slouchedbeforeme,herfacewasmangledandraw.Shewashardlyrecognizablewiththeway hereyeshadfallenout,leavingemptyeyesocketsthatboreintoyoursoulifyoumethergaze.Hernose wasmissingaswell,adarksunkencaverninthemiddleofherface.Ididn’tbothertryingtosearchfor eitherofthem,asitwaslikelyahungrythiefhadalreadygottentothemfirst.Chunksoffleshandsweat drippeddownontoheroldsweaterthathungtightagainstherwidetorso.Thehand-sewnonce-white dovesseemedsadandafraid,probablybecausethey’dbeapaininthebutttowashonceIstolethe sweaterfromher.Theexposedboneofherarmsthreatenedtodisconnectfromherbody,astheydrooped farbelowheruseless,deformedknees.

Thesightwassomethingmynephewhadneverseenbefore;hewasonlythreeyearsoldasofthis fall It’ssomethingnochildshouldhavetosee,really Theheartbreakingsightofseeingsomeoneyou oncelovedsodearlyslowlydecayingaway Hehuggedmylegasoneofherarmsfinallygaveway, emittingawet slush asitlandedagainsttheground Iheldmyhandsoverhischeeksandwipedawaythe warmsaltytears

“It’sokaylittlebuddy,wecanalwaysmakeanotheronenextwinter”

Grade12

“Untitled,Unmastered”

There once was a manthatdiedfrompeasantryandbetrayal,amanwhodidnothingbutbelonelyand perform good deeds. He sometimes wondered what being in the world was like. To see the Light was something……that he wishedheneversaw.Notfromdreadorhorrorbutfromasenseofdisappointment. Tothem,itwaslikeHewasungratefultobeintheDivinePalaceuponThem

So He was then casted out, exiled for eternity for something that wasn’t like them. So He was casted into the Abyss, a place sofarfromtheDivinePalacethattheMoonwasclosertotheStars.Hefell so far that even The Tyrant of the Abyss couldn’t catch him So he descended into the EndlessVoid He descended so far from the Abyss that He somehow was…even more lonely than when he was alive. He didn’t know how long He spent down there but long enough that He felt reborn Bornfromtheeternal black,moldedbyitsexistentialcruelty

But one day, the King spoke to Him. It said to climb, to climb where even They couldn't reach. Not even with their envy and hatred could withstand His apex should He choosetoclimb TheKinghad given Him its dying blessing in order toachieveitslongingambitionaswellasHisrevenge.AstheKing became ash, He waited. Waiting for something that would inevitably arrive. He waited and waited for what seemed like eons out of eons Waited so long that He morphed into the manifestation of the Void itself.Hisfeaturesevolvedintoblackandendless,filledwithdreadanddeath.

After so long, He became It. It decided to climb, like it told It to do so long ago. It climbed but not out; rather it went with It It climbed what seems endless but took only two days to achieve, something seemingly impossible to do. It arrived in theAbysstowhichItmarchedtotheThrone.Along, The PathforgedalongtheHelldressedinnight ItsoonarrivedattheThroneandchallengedtheTyrantto a trial by combat The Tyrant laughed until It devoured the Generals with such ease made the Tyrant submit. But that caused nodelayformercyasItexecutedtheTyrantandatetheshreddedremains.Ittook theThroneandruledforsuchlengthitmadeIt’sexileintheeternaldarknesslookinsignificant

After waiting for such countless eons spent, It climbed once more. They only had a miniscule amount of time beforeItclimbedabove.TheylaunchedabrutalassaultthatonlydelayedIt’sclimbforan eon yet It continued It then climbed on top of the Divine Palace and climbedfurther,aboveandbeyond the Heavens. Climbing past the GalaxythentheStarsandfinallytheUniverse.Itachievedtheimpossible and beat the unstoppable It achievedenlightenmentsorighteoustheLordwouldsingonlythegreatestof hymns

Yet It felt nothing. After such labors to achieve the Eternal Light and the Eternal Black, It felt numb; so much so hefeltpityforThem SoItwenttoachieveanotherimpossibletask–gainhumanity So It gracefully glided down to Earth–It’s homeland. It walked among the home It once had and observed. Compassion and empathy yet hatred and apathyItconsumedandsoItachieved–afteramillennium–what it was looking for He remembered what it was like to be in the world To be untitled to history, unmasteredtoreality.

HayleySmith

Grade11

“NewBeginnings”

Igroanedasmyballetshoesstartedtohurtmyfeet “Ican’tdothisanymore;myfeethurtso bad.”Iadd.

“Honey,it'salright You’llbefine,”Momreplies Ilookoutthewindowandseeatalldark-haired manwithfairskinstandingnexttowhatseemstobeablueSuzukiGSX-R1000 Iquicklyprymyshoes offandruntothebathroomtochangeintomyt-shirtandrippedjeans.

“Mom,I'mgoingtogogetsomefreshair!”Icalloutthrowingmytennisshoeson Iopenthe doorandtheguylooksatme, “Hey,sorrytobotheryou,butInoticedyourmotorcycle,”Isaysmilingnervously,“It'saSuzuki GSX-R1000right?”

Hesmiles,“It'sfineI’mjustwaitingformylittlesister.She'soutwithafriend,shedoes ballet"Helooksaroundthenbackatme “AndyeahitisaSuzukiGSX-R1000 How’dyouknow?”

Ilookaround “Youalright?”heasks

Ilookupathimwithtearsinmyeyes,“Ilovemotorcyclessomuch,althoughmymomforcesme todoballetbecauseshethinksgirlscan’tride”IsayasIstandtheretryingtostaystrong, “Girlscanride,yourmomdoesn’tknowwhatshe'stalkingabout;”hesaidashegrabbedapen fromhispocketandstartedwritingsomethingonascratchpaperhehadinhispocket.“Here,textmeif youfeelalone”Hegivesmeaquicksmileandgetsonhisbike

“Heywait,what'syournameandhowoldareyou?”Iquicklyask,helooksatme, “Kolby,andI'm18.What'syourname?”hereplies, “I’mScarlett,andI'm17”Isaysmiling Herevshisbikeandquicklydrivesoff Ituckhis numberinmypocketandgobackinthedancestudio,

“Ithoughtyouwereonlygoingoutforfreshair,butyouweretalkingtohim?”mymomgrowled, “Youknowmotorcyclesaredangerous,plusgirlsdon’tride”Shegrabbedmywrist;Itriedslippingoutof hergripbutitdidn’tworkthefirstfewtimesbuteventuallyIgotoutofhergrip.

WeekswentbyandKolbyandItalkedeverydayatthelocalparkaboutabsolutelynothing One dayIsatonmybedwonderingwhatitwouldbelikeifwewenttoGrandadBlufftoday,soakingupthe picturesqueviewoftheLaCrosseskylinebelow.Iwasabouttomessagehimbutthenmymomcalledto mefromdownstairs,“Scarlettwehavetogotothedancestudio”Isighandgrabmyballetbag,throwit onmyback,andwalkoutofmyroomwitheverystepfeelinglikesharpknivesinmyrightfoot.Aswe arrivedatthedancestudio,Icouldbarelystandonmyrightfoot,butmymomkeptdraggingmeinthe doorwayofthedancestudio Ilookedaroundtoseeaparkedmotorcycle

“Kolby…”Icriedundermybreath.Kolbywalkedoutfromaroundthecornerandsawmymom draggingme,

“Leaveheralone!”hesaid,grabbingmeawayfrommymom Hehelpedmetothebenchnextto thedancestudioandgrabbedhisphoneoutofhispocketdialingthepolice,“Scarlettareyouokay?”he askedme,

“Myrightfootfeelslikeknivesarecuttingdeepintoit.”IsaidasmymomtriedpushingKolby awaysoshecouldgettome.

“Noma'am,sheclearlydoesn’twantanythingtodowithyou.”Kolbysaidwhilepickingmeup, andheputmeonhisbikebeforeanotherwordwassaid.Hegotonandgavemehishelmet,Iputitonand wrappedmyarmsaroundhimashestartedthebikeanddroveoff Aroundtenorsominuteslaterwe arrivedatthehospital.Kolbyparkednearthefronthegotoffandgentlypickedmeupcarryingmeinside.

Asadoctorcametoseeifwewereokay,Kolbyplacedmeonanearbychairinthewaitingroom Itried notputtingmuchpressureonitandstayingoffitasithurtsomuch

“Kolby?”Ilookedaroundashegrabbedmyhand,

“Righthere”HelookedatmeandsmiledsogentlyandIsmiledbackgrabbingthestuffedbear thatwasnexttome “Doyoulikeit?”Kolbyasked,

“Iloveit.”IsaysittinguplookingaroundtheroomtryingtolookforwhateverIwastryingto lookfor KolbywalkedaroundtheroomandhestartedsingingsomethingIrecognized,“That'sagood song.”Isaid,laughingashestoppedandlaughed,

“Yeah,it'smyfavoritesong,”headdedashewalkedtowardsmebutjustashegrabbedmyhand mymotherburstintotheroomscreamingbloodymurderer Ilookedather,horrified,notknowingwhatto doorsayanymore,butKolbypressedthebuttonthatcallsthenurses.Secondslater

“What'sgoingon?”a nursesaid

“That'smydaughter!”shesaidtryingtocalmherselfdown,theyletherstayasshewasstaying calm.Iwasinthehospitalasthedoctorsweretryingtofigureoutwhymyfoothurtsobad.Turnsoutmy momforcedmetodanceonarippedtendononmyrightfoot ThedoctorssaidIhadtogointosurgeryas soonaspossibletogetitsewnbacktogether.Aroundanhouraftertalkingtomymother,seeingwhathad tobedone,everyonedecidedsurgerywasthebestoption,sotheyputmeunderanesthesiaforwhat seemedtobeforever Whentheyweredone,myfootwaswrappedupandIhadendedupwithaheadache duringthesurgeryandallIwantedtodowascry.Kolbywasnowheretobefound,

“Where'smyfriend?”Iaskedthedoctorwhowasfinishingwithwhateverhewasdoing,

“Wesenthimoutoftheroomforafewhours,istheresomethingwrong?”thedoctorasked I lookedatthedoctorandthenatthedoortothehall,

“Iwanthiminhere”Isaidtryingnottocrybutthat'sallIcoulddo,Istartedlookingaroundfor Kolby HewasmyonlysupportrightnowandIneededhim Iheardfootsteps Itwasadoctor“CanI leavethehospital?”Iaskedthedoctorashewalkedin“Yeah,youcanleave,”thedoctorrepliedashe gavemeapieceofpaperthathadthemedicalrecordformewhenhelefttheroom

“Mymotherwalkedinlookingsoashamed.Asshewaswaitinginthewaitingroomalongwith Kolby

“I'msosorryforeverythingIputyouthrough,Ididn’tknowhowmuchpainitwascausingyou” Shewalkedovertomeandgavemeahug.Itoldheritwasokaysincesheapologized,butIwasstill goingtobestayingwithKolbyforhoweverlongIneededsoIcouldprocesseverything.

FinnKelly

Grade12

JudgingaCrow’sCaw

ThisIbelieveisanimportanttopic Inmymind,“Judgingacrow’scaw”startswiththepopular ideathatacrow’scallsarelaughs.Theymaysoundlikealaughbutthatisnotwhattheydo.Theyare simplylivingandcommunicatingwithoneanother,yetareoftenmisunderstoodbecauseofthis Even lookeddownuponorhated,seenasnothingbutlargewingedrats,scaryorkillerslikeportrayedinthe media.Buttheyaresmarterthanmostthink,andcertainlynotkillers,butarebeautifulandhelpful.Iwill bereferringthistomentalhealth,whetheritbedisabilities,illnesses,oroverallemotionsandmental strugglesinpeople.

Noteveryonehasthesamevoice,Iamnotreferringtothesound,frequency,ortoneoftheirvoice butwhattheyhavetosay Inourpastwehavecompletelydisregardedeachother'smentalhealthclaiming themtobeinsaneandhavingputtheminasylums.Iamnotsayingthatthingshavenotchanged,because theyhave.Therearenowmoresaferplacesandoptionsforpeoplewhostrugglelikementalhospitals, therapy,andmedications YetIhavestillnoticedthatevennowafterallthesethingspeoplearestillnot educated.Believingthehospitalsareforthosewhoareinsane,sopeoplebegintofeargoingthereor dealingwithpeoplewhohavebeenthere Theygivethesepeoplestrangelooksorspeakingwordsabout themoutloudundertheirbreathbelievingthatthesepeoplearenotlistening

AnotherthingisthatIdistinctlyrememberthemostrecentdeepconversationaboutmymother whohadpassedawayonlyacoupleyearsagotomygrandparents Icouldtelltheywereuneducated, blaminghermentalillnessondrugsandclaimingthatthedoctorswerewrongfordiagnosingherwith depression,bipolar,andschizophrenia.Isatinthecarwiththemonourwaytogoeatdinner.Theytold me,“anxietyisn’tthatbadandIshouldjustgetoverit,depressionisonlybecauseyouhaven’tcalledout togodforhelpenough.”andsoon.Ibegantounderstandthatnoteveryonebelievesorunderstandsthese things Meaningeventhoughtherehasbeensomuchawarenessspread,thatissimplynotenough,and therewillbethosewhorefusetoacceptthisinformationbuttherearealsothosewhoknowverylittleto nothingaboutmentalhealthandpeoplewhodealwithsuch.

Ibelieveinlisteningfromgenuinesourcesratherthanassuming Askpeoplearoundyouwho havestruggledwiththeirmentalhealth.Whetherit’safriend,familymember,acquaintance,classmate,or evensomeoneelse.Listenfromacrediblesource,notsomeonewho“heard”fromsomeoneelsebecause weneedtospreadtherightword Don’tlistentotherumors

AmorahBrown

Grade9

“Validation”

Forthemajorityofourliveswesearchforother’svalidationwheninreality,weonlyneedto searchforourown Tobeabletovalidateourselvesinsteadofevaluatingothersisaskillthatnotalotof peoplepossess

Ashumans,itisourresponsibilitytotakecareoftheearth,andourresponsibilitytoprocreate, thrive,create,break,recreate,andhelpasmuchaswecan Ashumans,men,women,andanyoneand everyoneelse,itisourresponsibilityto(ifwechoose)birthchildrenandshowthemthegoodinthe world,whileallowingthemtoknowoftheevilinourworld. Itisnot,however,ourjobtofeedour childrenevilinthesamewaythatwefeedthemhope,love,andthegoodoftheworld

Itishumannaturetothrivebygrowingourselveswhilelearningatthesametime. Wethriveby allowingotherpeopletothriveandgrowalongsideusandlearnthesamethings,ifnotmore,thanwhat wearelearning

Asparents,familymembers,friends,coworkers,acquaintances,communitymembers,and strangers,itisourjobtocreateasafelivingenvironmentforourchildrenandcreateforthemand ourselvestheabilitytohaveanopenmindandstrong,caringhearts

Wearebornandraisedtobreakbarriers,records,andexpectations. Ibelievethatwewereborn tobreakhatredandunjust,cruel,andunnecessaryjudgment Iamdoingthisbysharingmyknowledge andopinionsandIencourageotherstodothesame.

Humans,askids,futureparents,andgrandparents,aremadetorecreatethelove,joy,happiness, faith,andkindnessthatwewantforourselvesandourkids,andgrandkids

Itisbothmineandyourjobasmyreadertohelpourfamily,friends,strangers,andcommunityto growbothindividuallyandasawhole I’maskingyoutohelpeachothertohaveopenmindstowards ourselves,eachother,andeachother’sideas

Ifyoucanreadthisandtellmethatyoupossess100%ofthesequalities,thenyouandeveryone elseshouldandwillknowandcontinuetoteacheachotherthatvalidationfromanyoneotherthan yourselforthemselvesisunnecessary Onthecontrary,ifyoudonotholdthesequalities,andifyou continuetospreadhate,judgment,andcontinuetobringotherpeopledownbecauseyou“enjoyit”,I encourageyoutoreadthisagain,lookatyourpast,lookatthedifferenceofwhoyouwanttobe,whoyou are,andwhatotherpeoplewantyoutobe. Iguaranteethatnobodyisasfarinlifeastheywanttobe,but otherpeople’sexpectationsarefaroffofwhatwewantourselvestobe. Withthatsaid,Iwantyoutobe abletounderstandthatyouropiniononanotherpersondoesnotmatter,myopiniononyoudoesnot matter,yourparents’,grandparents’,friends’,sisters’,brothers’,cousins’oreveryoneelse’sopinionson youdonotmatter Thepeopleinyourlifearetheretohelpyoubewhoyouwanttobe,notwhothey wantyoutobe Ifyoutakeanythingawayfrommywriting,Iwantittobethis

Nobodyshouldbetalkingaboutotherpeople,nobodyshouldbeputdownbywhatotherssay aboutthem Weareonthisplanettomakeitgreat,nottohurtthosewhowethinkarelowerthanus If youseesomeoneputtingothersdownorbeingputdown,doeverythinginyourpowertoliftothersup.

WaupunHighSchool

Notall

EmberWylesky-Grade10

Wemakeachoicetospeakaloud, Notalljoinourcrowd.

Someonetellshowtheywereused, Notallothersmuse.

Notall,Notall

That'sallwesay!

Notall,notall

Theydon'tseeitgetsintheway.

Alwaysandnevermeanthesame, Everyoneandnooneispartofthisgame.

Yetthewordsthatmeannoharm, Menandwomenaretheonesthatarm.

Whycutin?Whystandout?

Sharingourtalesiswhatit'sabout.

Whennotallisallwesay, Alltheproblemsgetpushedoutoftheway. Surenotallbutthere'senough, Formenandwomen,itgetstough.

Somaybeinsteadofrunningtodefend, Listensothiscanend.

Don’tcatcallagirlorboy

Tomakeabetterworldthat'sourploy

Wemaybeyoungbutweshouldlearn respect,

Throughhardwork,we’llgainthedesired effect.

Itookanarrowtotheheartbutthat soundscheesyhu?

EmberWylesky-Grade10

Greeneyesthat'swhatIsawfirst. Wewereyoungstillbelievinginthemagicof acurse.

Blondhairthesecondsaw, Followedbyyourstance:confidentand pristine.

Youshotthearrowstrungagainstyourbow. Sawmefailing,taughtmewhatyouknow. Stoodbehindme,correctedmyaim, Andhelpedmetendwoundstostopothers' pain.

Doyourealizehowyou’reseen?

Aheroeveryonewantsasthekingorqueen. Whychooseme?Whyplaythispart?

Whyshootanarrowthroughmyheart?

Seasons

LydiaAalsma-Grade11

Summer,fall,winter,spring.

Passingmemoriestranspire

momentsofgrowthandvulnerability; Whilenavigatingtruth.

Aseason, Amoment, Aninstant fabricatenewfeelings todirectmymind.

Feelingsthatdrive Actions; Causingreactions

Impactingmystrength. Yethope; Apromiseofgoodtocome, Itrevivesmetolive.

Apurpose, Tokeepingfaith For,astheysay, wintercan’tlastforever

AlmostThere

ShawnLang-Grade11

Thewavesplashedagainstmybareskin

It’sicywaterstabbingmyflesh

ThegoalIhavesetisonlyinchesaway

Almostthere

Thepromiseofwarmthandsecurityisnearlyhere

Almostthere

NowhereIam, Myhandswilltouchthegravel

Mylegswillwalkthelandthattheyhavenever walked

Almostthere.

Iwillaccomplishwhatmyancestorsfailedtodo. Iwillexplorewhatotherslikemehaveyettoexplore.

Almostthere.

Iwilllivealifelikemanyothersdo.

Iwillmeetnewpeople. Iwillgetmarried. Iwillhavechildren. Iwillhaveahome. Iwillhaveajob.

Iwillhaveeverythingmyancestorswerepromised butnevergot.

Almostthere.

Now,asItouchthegravelbeneathmyfeet, Ifeelthewarmthofmyancestors

Icanfinallytellthemwhattheotherswantedtotell themforsolong

Weare

Finallythere

Magicisn'treal

EmberWylesky-Grade10

Magicisn’treal.

I’vehearditallmylife.

Magicisn’treal.

Thenwhatcausedmeallthisstrife?

Magicisn’treal.

Thenwhyishegone?

Magicisn’treal.

LiketheloveI’vemissedforsolong.

Magicisn’treal.

Whydon'tyouunderstand?

Magicisn’treal.

Thatyoushouldn'tmesswiththeforceat hand.

Magicisreal, AndIknowit'sso.

Magicisreal.

Itjusthasnoplacetogo.

Somaybeit'smagic.

It’smagic?

I’mgonnascream!

it'smagic?

Whatdoyoumean?

It’smagic?

Whydoyousaysuchthings?

It’smagic?

Unawareofthepainitbrings.

It’smagic, ButIfoundascientificway

It’smagic!

Whymustyouactlikethiseveryday?

It’snotmagic! Atleastitshouldn'tbe....

It’snotmagic, Butit’snotscienceasfarasIcansee. Somaybeit’sbothScienceandmagic. Scienceandmagic?

Twoheartswebothknow. Scienceandmagic... Trudginglikekidsinthesnow. Scienceandmagic.

Webothwanttowin. Scienceandmagic! Butourstorystillhastobegin. Scienceismagic!

They’reoneandthesame. Scienceismagic!

It’slikeacrazygame.

Magicisscience! Withalogicofitsown. Magicisscience!

Andwiththat,thefinalseedsaresown.

FairytoGoblin

RoselynMartinez-Grade11

Fairy

MythicalImmaculate ProtectingFlyingPersevering

MushroomsForestSwampUnderground

TauntingRoamingTricking

MischievousRevolting Goblin

FriendsfromAround KeiStidham-Grade11

Iinvitenewpeopleintomylife witheverychanceIcanget.

Nomatterwhotheyare, theywillcertainly changemylife.

Meetingmybestfriendinfirstgrade changedmylife.

Meetingthegirlwholivesanhouraway changedmylife.

Meetingthepeoplefromdifferent statesandevencountries.Theyall changedmylife.

Tomeetthesepeople, Ihadtospeakup.

Ihadtotakethechance.

Igottoexperience whatothersweregoingthrough, thehappymomentsinsomeoneelse’slife, thehappinessofhavingfriendsfrom everywhere.

TheManWhoLearnedandTaught NevaehKrenz-Grade11

Aboywilllearnhowtobecomeaman whenhefindsoutthereis alittlegirlontheway.

Hewillgrowintowhatheexpects hislittlegirltodate

Hewillteachhertobebrave andhowtoshowsheisstrong

Hewillshowhernottoletboys whothinktheyaremenwalkingalloverher

Hewillbetherebyhersideasshecries overLollyPopsandboys whowishtheyweremen.

Hewillbetherewithheron thefirstdayofschooland onhergraduationday, hopingthathesetheruptosucceed.

Onedayhewentfromwalking withheraroundthecarousel towalkingherdowntheaisle

Butitwillnotendtherebecause hewillsharehowhislittlegirl changedhislife.

Howhehasseenhercry overlollypopstoboys.

Hewilllookatwhosheiswith andsaythatshehasmarriedaman.

Bytheendofthespeech,shewillstand andsaysheonlymarriedamanbecause shelearnedfromaman

FastMoney

GabrielKain-Grade12

The road came to a banked turn as Drew’s metallic orange Camaro careened down the highway. A turn he’s made so often in his life. He drifted around the hillside with precision and momentum His destination was also very familiar, the nearby auto track He enjoyed the races, and unlike his wealthy friends, he tended not to bet on them. The speed was what mattered to him, not who won these races If they want to force a bet out of him, he could bet how many shots it would take for Brad to pass out.

A lit cigarette hung just at the right angle out of his mouth onto his dry lips The smoke curled out his open window, leaving the trail of a burning scent. Drew squinted into the sun as he drove through it, his eyes baking in strain Driving had become Drew’s favorite thing, one of the only things that he genuinely liked, because it took his mind off of things. It took his mind off of his father, who’d given him most of what he had by now, including the Camaro. But he didn’t mind that. He minded what his father hadn’t given him, which was his savvy for business Drew had at multiple times tried to start some business or another, each time with either diminishing returns or nothing to show for it He typically backed out midway through and bolted at the moment a problem struck But driving invited a freedom from that doubt and fear, so he drove plenty.

He slowed as he approached the parking lot outside of the track He rigidly parked near the back of the lot, where he always was on days like today. He smothered his cigarette in the car’s ashtray, before tossing it through the open sunroof of the Volvo next to him

He walked straight through the gate toward where he liked to sit as he watched. Unfortunately for Drew, he was not unseen coming inside.

“Hey! Look who’s finally back!” a boisterous voice from across the room said as Drew sat down. Brad had found him.

Brad was a loud-mouth Brad was a con Brad was everything that Drew was pissed off at For some reason, though, Brad seemed to like Drew. He seemed to think that they were friends or something of the sort, even though they exchanged more money than words these days

Drew was saved from friendly interaction by Matt, the bookie. Matt was also loud, and kind of a snake in his own right, but Drew didn’t seem as pissed off at him Well, at least Matt returned on bets, meanwhile, Brad was about a thousand dollars in debt to Drew alone. Matt crashed through the door with a pale wisdom to him. “Number 13 is out, he’s not racing. He said he had ‘food poisoning’ or something like that” Matt wandered the room to the window out to the track, looking down on the speed demons from a godly height. “That makes it pretty clear to me. Brad, I’m guessing you’re taking 22?”

Brad gave him a stupid look from over the bar. “Of course,” he said. Drew sat, cross-armed and unmoving He stared out at the dry track He knew what question would follow.

“What’s your bet, Drew?” Matt said, turning to where Drew sat “Nothing,” Drew said. “Count me out.”

Brad’s brow curled in disgust. “What? Don’t let us down now. This is easy money.” Brad thought he knew what he was talking about, but he really was more lucky than smart

“Brad, it’s a car. If I liked it so much, I wouldn’t bet on it, I’d buy it. And buy the driver.”

“Exactly, that’s what we’re doing, we’re buying in It’s like a mini investment in the driver After all, he doesn’t pocket any of it. It’s all yours.”

“I’m not a ”

“‘I’m not a betting man.’ Shut up and cough up a buck you cheap bastard. I’m putting in a hundred after all”

Matt scribbled down on a small pad. He looked expectantly at Drew.

“No,” Drew said, “I won’t. You won’t get me this time.”

Brad’s happy face folded into one of disdain at Drew’s words He took a swig from his drink and stood up directly in front of Drew. “Come on. Commit to something for once, be a man. It’s just

a little pocket change, and it won’t be gone for long The fast money passes you by when you don’t try to catch it.”

Drew glared at him and felt cornered Drew felt a burst of pride bubble inside of him, starting from his gut and rising. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He dropped two hundred dollars in Matt’s hand, not breaking eye contact with Brad “Good, good. Should I put you down for 22 as well?”

“87,” Drew said “87?”

“87. He’s never lost on a track this dry.”

It was a wager One Drew couldn’t back out of Not now Railbirds hugged the edges of the pit walls, investigating the track closely. Smog fumigated the above air, filling the sky with a cigar smell Several racers wandered in circles around their cars, chatting with the pit crews. Matt stumbled up and down the stands with his little pad, collecting names and money Drew paced about the clubhouse, grumbling to himself He’d been had Drew knew what guys like Brad were called. A charlatan.

Brad had fallen asleep on one of the couches, glass in hand Drew glanced at him nervously, then stared back down at the track, at nobody in particular. He could tell that his brain was kicking his heart right in the aorta, and it deserved it. What did he have to prove? This bet was useless, and Brad had no clue what he was talking about, and he never did

The drivers lined up with their steeds, forming a slick line across the bend. They all waved to the crowd, who barked approval immediately They climbed into their vehicles, readying themselves for their daunting sprint. Two drivers, the ones in cars 22 and 87, looked calm and collected, or at least they were better actors than their opponents They kept their eyes forward, maintaining still consciousness as if reeling in their urge to backpedal and make a hasty escape through the entranced crowd They held this urge in well, angrily staring down the track before them, like it knew something about their mother. Perhaps they had something more at stake than the others had.

Brad woke with the cars, revving to life with a flagrant hope. Brad scooped up his martini and made a break for the window, now pensive and entirely at attention He turned to Drew the way a snake turns for a mouse. “This is why I always get in,” Brad sipped his drink before he continued, “Putting in, it’s like I’m in the backseat of that 22 You get to take that victory lap with them, you get to have it to yourself. You see what you’ve missed now? Isn’t it better this way?”

Drew was barely listening to Brad “No,” he answered “This isn’t fun You're not in the backseat, you're chained to the hood.”

Brad raised an eyebrow at this remark but didn’t offer a snide comment of his own, in spite of it being in his nature to do so.

The race would be a short one, eight laps, though it’d feel like eighty. As Matt wrapped up shaking hands and pulling dollars, the attention fully turned to the track The starter readied himself, staring into his watch. He rigidly raised his pistol to the sky and shot at a cloud as his watch hit five on the dot

The cars lunged across the stripes of the starting marks, first creeping, then gliding before finally taking off onto the main track They blurred like paint swatches, burning white into the dark tarmac. The front cars hooked leftward as they began to spill into their initial turn. Number 40 held a slight lead, but as the pole sitter, this was naturally expected to start Openly navigating towards 40 into second place was number 22, but closing in from further back was 87.

Drew felt beads of cold sweat run across his face. His eyes locked on 87 as if looking away from it would cause it to disappear Brad was quite a bit louder than Drew was, though he was in the process of sopping up his now spilled martini. He glanced up at Drew and whispered, “We should take this downstairs, watch with the railbirds at the cheapos” Drew kept his eyes high and muttered to himself.

“No thanks I’m fine”

“It’s more exciting!”

“I’m plenty excited for the afternoon”

As the cars swung down the back arm of the track, attention turned to the sky for a few moments. The lower clouds had been darkening, and now they showed symptoms of tearing up. Drew noted this, wiping the sweat off his forehead He looked out and his eyes caught hold of something. Something falling. Something small, fell down, toward him. It was a raindrop. And it hit the window of the club suite, right in front of Drew’s face

As 87 finished maneuvering his way into the lead, those clouds wrung out. The water came down in a trickle, glazing the asphalt with water The rain came swiftly, pelting them with droplets So much for the dry track.

The crowd finally took more notice of the weather. The few that were well prepared pulled open umbrellas The poor suckers that weren’t backed away, clutching jackets and coats overhead to shield themselves. The railbirds got soaked, but they couldn’t have cared, they probably liked the rain

Drew and Brad stayed warm and dry and soon were joined by Matt in their suite. Drew had moved behind the bar One hundred dollars down the drain, and he breathed the regretful air He peered out onto the track and saw the flock of cars breeze by, 87 still in front. Brad was becoming restless, pouring himself another drink Matt wandered the suite floor like he was looking for a compass. Halfway there, halfway not.

Down at the track, cars began to pace themselves. It was a short race with no pit stops. The water continued to fall, coating the racers in a glossy sheen The track was losing grip, one car towards the back of the back had nearly already spun into oblivion. None truly slowed, though some grew lethargic, but they too still swam

On the turn into the penultimate lap, 87 slid. The car drifted not so gracefully, careening into the pit wall He hit the wall with a solid slam, temporarily going airborne He flipped side over side, coming down upside down on the edge of the track.

Drew’s eyes grew full, black as open space He stumbled, catching himself on the edge of the bar. He could see a face in front of him, his father’s. It stared through him, breaking him open and forcing its way through his mind. Drew felt splintered and eroded, and inches across the outside edge of the bar He reached the door, slipping past without Matt or Brad seeing him

As he climbed down the stairs, the cold aroma of rainwater insulted him. He picked his pace up, hearing the remaining cars out at the track continuing in their pursuit He dashed out the door past the exit, hardly raising an eyebrow from security. He fumbled his keys from his coat pocket and quickly found his Camaro where it sat before He hopped inside and sprung the ignition The car woke to the harsh rain, and Drew flipped on his windshield wipers. He leaned away from the open window and lit a fresh cigarette He dropped the lighter in the ashtray and sped off They likely hadn’t realized that he’d even left. Perhaps if he left now and never came back, Matt or Brad wouldn’t find him at all. They could forget all about him and their silly bet. After all, he couldn’t go into debt

As he left the parking lot he felt shadows following him, like they clung to the door handles, hid in the trunk, and slept under his hubcaps They stalked up to him, covering him until he almost couldn’t see. They dragged him, they dragged the whole car down, down, down into the gravel and asphalt like they did to 87 Where should he go? Where could he go? His thoughts rambled on, go, stop, left, forward, stop, back, left, go, go, right, stop, go, left, left again. He realized fast that it wasn’t his voice saying these to him, but it was a familiar voice Not Brad’s Not Matt’s It was his father. Telling him his directions and calculating his return, watching him struggle.

The Camaro came down the highway. Drew’s hands clasped the wheel, turning them ghastly pale His cigarette dropped from his lip, though he did not attempt to retrieve it He came upon the banked turn along the highway, feeling the car beginning to slide.

At first, he tensed at this, but then he loosened He only again stiffened as his car hit the end of the traffic barrier. The car clipped it and rose. The Camaro turned over the rail, upheaving and shuffling all of its contents The car began to descend down the hill, rotating and barreling down in free fall. Ash spilled all over Drew’s face, but he could only sit as he rolled to a stop. Once the car had come to its rest, he sat still

General’sWishes

KayleyMedema-Grade10

I panted as I slid on the sand, I got right back up and charged at him. He chuckled at me and made a ‘bring it on’ gesture I attacked hard, the others already starting to stare as I attacked the general’s son My practice sword hits him at every turn He grunted in pain and finally fell to his knees I pressed my sword against his neck “Yield” I breathed, looking down at him I saw him move his practice sword attempting to knock my feet out from under me I sliced my sword across his neck and he mimed death before flopping on the ground There was slow clapping from behind me so I turned, seeing the general walking up to us I offered a hand to the man on the ground He took it and I pulled him up easily

“Well, Finnegan, looks like she’s got you beat,” the general spoke, his gravelly voice grating on my ears The man, Finnegan, nodded slightly

“She has, for now,” he warned, playfully glaring at me I just smirked at him and hit him with my sword again

“Go wash up, Finnegan, I need to have a word with Miss Victoria,” the general said, dismissing him. Finn nodded and headed towards the showers of the enormous compound. I turned and looked at the general crossing my arms as I waited for the evaluation. “You did well today, Victoria. I wouldn’t suppose you’d like to join me on the field?” He asked, also crossing his arms over his bulky chest. He had a scar that slashed through his eye and down most of his cheek. He told amazing stories about the time he had gotten it, but none of them were the same. He always wanted to keep us guessing, especially as children. He wanted to weed out the weak, so to speak, if they couldn’t handle gruesome retellings they wouldn’t be able to stomach the real battlefield. I grinned widely and nodded eagerly.

“I would love to,” I said eagerly, uncrossing my arms. He nodded.

“Good, go get changed and meet me at the gates in 15,” he said sternly, a small smirk of approval crossing his face. I sprinted to the women’s dormitories. There weren’t many of us left in this section. Many of them had gotten sick, pregnant, or simply wanted to be a healer instead. But I knew ever since I was young that I was meant to be a warrior. I worked hard day in and day out to make it this far. Beating the general’s son was the icing on the top of an already great day. I quickly rifled through my clothes and picked out my father’s armor. I bit my bottom lip gently to keep myself from crying just at the sight of it. I started putting it on when there was a soft knock on my door.

“Who is it?” I called out, as I quickly pulled my shirt on.

“Just me,” Finn said as he opened the door. He raised his eyebrows at seeing my armor on. “Going somewhere?” Finn questioned, a playful smirk on his face. I couldn’t help but to smile at him and nod.

“Yes actually, it seems your father is going to be taking me on a patrol,” I said proudly I knew he’d probably get jealous because it’s his father but I hoped he’d still be happy for me He knew this was something I've always wanted But I was wrong, his smirk faded and he crossed his arms

“Alright Just um just be careful out there, alright?” He spoke softly, and his eyes had turned from his usual playful glint to anger, and now to worry I smirked and walked over to him

“I always am, Finny, don’t worry,” I said before backing up “I need to finish getting changed, so you should go” He nodded and backed out of my room before closing the door Finn and I had always been close, much to the other girl’s chagrin Ever since we were kids, we fought together in the training yard, matching each other for skill I quickly grabbed the

rest of my gear and put it on, before running to the gates The general was waiting for me as I sprinted up to him He looked me up and down and nodded

“Good” He started walking at a brisk pace, his hands behind his back, as if we were just going for a leisurely stroll I followed him, my hand resting on the hilt of my sword We patrolled around the gates of the Commission Center. I kept a watchful eye out for any intruders or threats. Our lands had been at war with the Kingdom of Marachna for eons now. The Commision Center was built so that we could train warriors for years, hoping to outfight Marachna once and for all. “So, Miss Victoria, my son and you have a bond, yes?” The general finally spoke, looking over at me with a single brow raised.

“Um yes sir we do, I’ve known him for as long as I can remember,” I spoke honestly, my brow furrowing a bit. “Why do you ask, General?” I asked curiously looking back at him.

He shrugged and kept up his slow stroll. “I can tell my boy cares for you. I’m afraid it won’t do you or him any good. You know enrollment is coming up for the both of you, and you are both of age now,” he said sternly. I sighed and nodded. Finn and I were going to be 18 and that was the age we were able to enroll.

“I understand, sir, but what do you want me to do about it? Sever our friendship?”

“I think that would be best, yes. Having such close ties will only hurt either of you more when you go into battle.” By the time he had finished speaking, we had made it back to the front gates. I sighed and hung my head. I knew what I had to do…He nodded curtly at me and walked away back into base. I stood there for a while contemplating my decision. I knew what I should do, but it hurt. I sighed and walked back into camp.

“Hey there, big shot!” My body tensed as I recognized Finn’s voice. He put an arm around my shoulder and turned me around to face him. He saw the look on my face and his smile dropped. “What happened? Is..are you alright?” He grabbed my face and gave me a good look over. I gently pushed him back and nodded.

“I’m alright, Finn I well we just need to talk,” I said, my heart cracking as I saw him nod He led me over to some benches in front of the central gardens

“What happened?” He asked gently, he could tell that something was wrong, especially since I had asked him to talk I was never one to have serious conversations like this, so he was immediately concerned

“Your father and I well we’ve decided it’s best if we well if we stop being friends,” I couldn’t look at him and just stared ahead My heart ached as I said those words

“Vic what are you talking about?” He said softly I could hear the hurt and the mixed emotions in his voice I wanted nothing more than to comfort him and tell him I didn’t mean it, but I knew better than to go against the General’s wishes I took a deep breath and looked at him

“Enrollments are coming up..and well..we thought it’d be best if we weren’t so close. It..it could hurt us more in the long run.” He shook his head, not wanting to hear my words.

“I’m sorry Finn.” He shook his head and anger flashed over his sharp features.

“No...no he doesn’t get to say what we can and can’t be,” he said fiercely. I sighed and shook my head.

“Finn..” He cut me off.

“No. Don’t start. I’m going to talk to him.” He stood from the bench, his face was full of determination. I sighed and watched him walk away. I wanted to talk to him and tell him that there was no way his father would listen, but I knew that was no use. He was like his father in that way, stubborn brutes. A while later I finally pulled myself off the bench and walked into the girls' dorms. I took a quick shower and got dressed into my sleeping clothes. Just as I was about to crawl into my bunk, there was a soft knock on my door. I walked over

to the door and opened it, it gave a slight creak “Hey,” Finn said faintly His face was full of bruises, he had a split lip, and from the way he held himself, I was sure there were more injuries

“Oh my god, Finn What happened?” I whispered before ushering him inside I sat him down on my bed and started to make some salve for his wounds.

“We talked,” he said simply. I shook my head and gently took his face into my hands. I rubbed some salve onto his bruises and his cut lip. He smiled goofily at me, trying to get me to lighten up. I didn’t smile back, instead, I gently pressed on his ribs and he winced. I went to take off his shirt but he flinched back.

“Finn, let me help,” I spoke tenderly, touching his shirt again. He sighed and took it off. I looked up and down his tanned and muscular body. There were many bruises, mainly around his ribs. I pressed gingerly against them again. He winced again. “I’m sorry, I’m just trying to assess.” He nodded his understanding, and I started to make a makeshift compression to hold the ribs in place. He leaned his head on my shoulder and took a shaky breath as I bandaged him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered again. We stayed like that for a while before he finally leaned back again to look up at me.

“Thank you. I trust you’ll keep this under wraps?” My brow furrowed at his words and I shook my head.

“He hurt you, Finn. I can’t just let him get away with it,” he sighed and hung his head a bit. I put a finger under his chin to make him look back up at me. “I’m sorry he did this to you. It’s not your fault, he needs to be held accountable,” he sighed and nodded again.

“I know, I know, but he’s still my father,” I nod my understanding and sigh.

“We should tell the higher ups,” I said gently, I knew he didn’t want his father to get into that much trouble, but I knew it was what he deserved.

“Alright, but not right now..I..I just need a break.” The absolute turmoil in his eyes made my heart ache again I nodded once again

“You can stay here if you want; otherwise, I can walk you to the guys’ dorms” He laid back onto her bed and took a deep breath

“I’ll stay” I nodded at his answer

“Um well get comfy” He got under the covers and laid his head back He grimaced a few times, as the shifting hurt his ribs I sighed softly and made myself a little pallet on the floor He sat up as he realized what I was doing

“What are you doing? You patched me up, the least I can do is let you have the bed,” he said as he started to get off the bed

“No, no, you’re injured, you deserve and need a bed Stay, Finn,” he sighed and paused his movements He laid back again The rustling sheets caused her to glance back up at him. He patted the side of the bed.

“Come here,” he said gruffly. I didn’t question it, the long day of practice made my body ache anyway. I crawled into bed beside him and fell into a fitful sleep.

WinneconneHighSchool

I am Glass

Hailee Boesch- Grade 10 Sixteen

They call me fragile

As so I don't shatter with your every move

But don’t let that deceive you

When you try to break your car windows as you drown,

Not a crack will appear

I am just like glass

They call me delicate

To hold me with care as so I don't break

But even after you fill me with every drop of your toxic words

I still hold

I am just like glass

They call me translucent

My emotions are clear as day

Don’t be deceived because you only see what I hold not what I’m made of

No one can see my mind

I am just like glass

Even if I break

Once I crack and fall apart,

Do not underestimate me

I will cut you when you are not looking

I am just like glass

We talk all the time but never meet

We live, laugh, and cry but never repeat

Lila Newton- Grade 11

I’m just a sixteen year old girl

I have tarnished gold jewelry in a box

I buy a new lip gloss every month

I could listen to Taylor Swift songs for hours

I take pictures of every pretty sunset

And a little sunburn in the summer can’t hurt me

Because I’m just a sixteen year old girl

I’m not smart unless I get straight A’s

I’m not respectful unless I never argue

I’m not talented unless I stand out

I’m not pretty unless I t a size small

And I’m not good enough unless I am perfect

Because I’m just a sixteen year old girl

It’s Only Me

Mary Gallenberg- Grade 11

We perform in front of others but are never really there

We stand in front of the class and watch as people stare

We eat less and less while trying to lose weight

We watch as the scale moves but only fluctuates

We live the same lives but nobody ever sees

The one thing

The true thing

Is that it’s only me and my anxiety

SnowDay

KaylieShreve-Grade12

Itakeasipofhotchocolateandletthewarmthofitslideovermybones.Therichnessofthechocolate hitsthebackofmytongue;thishotcocoawasmaderight.Amischievouswindstirsupthesnowthat’s startedtogatheronthefreshly-shoveleddeck,swirlingitintoacyclone.Thesnowisstilllightandfluffy, whatmymotherwouldcall‘perfectsnowmansnow’.Mygazefallsonthekidsoutside,whoareseemingly buryingtheirsisterinalayerofsnow.Myyoungestlooksupthen,andIwonderifhecanseemethroughthe window Itakeanothersipofthehotchocolateandwaveathim,andhesmileshisbiggummysmileand wavesbackbeforetacklinghisbrotherintoasnowwalltheymade Themiddlechild,mydaughter,keepsher snowangelshape,butliftsherheadtowatchherbrotherswrestle Asshedecidestogetupandjoinher brothers,myeldestnoticesandrunsovertohelpherup Adeceptiveoneasalwaysthough,shegrabshis handandpullshimdownintothesnowwithher,andIwatchastheylaughbigstomach-hurtinglaughsI swearIcanhearinthehouse IdecidetoletthemhavetheirfunwhileIcurlupandsneakinachapterortwo ofmynewlystartedbook.Hotchocolateinonehandandaromanceintheother,Ireminisceofthesnow daysofmypast,thoseblissfuldaysofnoschoolandhavingfun.Itakeadeepsighbeforeturningthepage andstartingachapteranew.

An Ode To The Girl I Was

Kendra Vonderloh- Grade 12

This is for the girl I wasI know she’s still out there

Somewhere

Behind this fake smile, Behind these ever-present tears, Behind all of this darkness and sorrow, Somewhere

She is smiling at the stars, She only cries at sad movies, She is filled with sunshine and happiness, Somewhere…

I hope she finds peace

Confusing

Rya Nikodem- Grade 12

No one ever explains

To kids how confusing our words sound

“Don't ever grow up”

“Grow up, you're being a baby”

“I wish I could go back to your age”

“Can't you just act more mature”

How confusing it must be

To listen

But to never know Numb

Kendra Vonderloh- Grade 12

Seeds bloom into beautiful flowers

Strawberries ripen and become delicious

Leaves flourish on trees

Everyone cherishes their beauty and growth

But, flowers rot

Strawberries mold, Leaves fall.

And suddenly they are unwanted

So, I am empty, Never growing Never changing, A perfectly still void

Because it’s better to die feeling nothing than to die feeling everything

Where I Come From

Kaylie Shreve- Grade 12

I come from salty sea air and multi-colored conch shells, Living just twenty minutes from the Gulf

I come from catching speedy dragonflies and flying grasshoppers, Bermuda grass up to my knees

I come from old pine trees and crisp mountain air, The blue ridge on the horizon

I come from chalk drawings on the driveway and pulling weeds with mom, Popsicles were always the best reward

I come from hot summer days and running through rainbow sprinklers, Making mud puddles in the yard

I come from red clay under my nails and running off with friends, Playing music for the whole neighborhood to hear

I come from too-small skateboards and hand-me-down rollerblades, Scraped knees and broken bones

I come from booming thunderstorms and warm spring showers, A creek that overflowed

I come from peeling red shoulders and dark blue knees, The consequences of hours outdoors

I come from never-one-place-for-too-long and don’t-put-holes-in-the-walls mentality, Four states in eighteen years

I come from a life outside– in the trees, in the clay, in the sand, in the rain, It’s easy to miss it when it’s no longer yours.

GardenofEden

TaylorClerkin-Grade12

Ireachhighonlytostumble

MyfingertipsgentlygrazewhatIlongfor YetIfallshorteachtime

Nevertallenoughtoseizeit.

Daysturntonights

ButIstillreachup

Missingjustbarelyeachtime

Nevermorethananinchaway.

Iwatchothersreachup

Gainingtheirprizeeachtimetheytry

ThoughIstillfallshort

Unworthyofmydream.

Yearspass, Daysgrowold, Treeshanglower, Myconfidencedwindles.

Everyonearoundreacheswhattheyseek

Happyfacespaintedoneach Still,mineremainsblank

Unfulfilleddreamsonlyfeetaway

Thenonefatefulday, Youcomealong

Uninterestedinyourowndreams Youcomewithaladder.

Gentlyyousetitup

Holditsteady

ReluctantlyIreachagain

TheprizeIoncewanted,soclose.

YetInolongerreachforit

Instead,Iturn

Graspingyouinmyarms

Mywholeworldchangedinamoment.

TheFinalStand

AuroraBraley-Grade10

Ihavebeentrappedinmyhouseforsixdaysnow,andmyfoodsupplyranouttwodaysago.IfIwantto surviveintotheforeseeablefuture,Ineedtogetoutofthehousetonightandstockuponsupplies Buthere’ s thething:they’rehungriestatnighttime.Iftheyseeme,they’lltearmetoshredsintheblinkofaneye.On theotherhand,ifIwanttosurvivethenext24hours,Ineedtoeat.

Ieventuallydecidethatmyhungerismoreimportantthanthealmostprobabledeaththatawaitsmeif Ileavethehouse,andIpackmybackpackwiththeessentials:awaterbottle,aflashlight,amachete,a sledgehammertobreakthroughwindows,anextragun,andthelastproteinbarIhave.Onmybelt,Isecurethe gunandarmyknifeItakeeverywhere,andI’mreadytogo Ilookthroughthepeepholeonmyfrontdoor TodayIonlyseethreeofthem,butthere’salwaysmorelurkinginthestreetsthatlooklikegapingholes, waitingtoswallowmeup.

Isneakoutmybackdoor,knifeinhand Thankgodthere’snoleavesonthegroundyet,otherwise,I wouldn’tbeabletomakeittomycar.Istealthilymakemywaytothecar.Imanagetogetinandclosethedoor withoutanyonenoticing.NowIjusthavetostartthecarandgettheheckoutofhere.Iturnthekey,andthe purringoftheenginehasn’tbeguntoattractanyofthemyet AsImanagetobackthecaroutoftheyard,I seeashadowbyoneofthetrees.Withoutasecondthought,myfootismashedagainstthepedal,andIpeeloff intotheblackinkofnight.

Afterstoppingatmultiplegrocerystores,Ifinallyhaveenoughfoodtolastmethenextthreeweeks.I decidetostopatthemallsoIcanstockuponmoreclothes.WhenIpulluptothefrontdoors,Irealizehowbad thiscouldget.It’spitchblackinthere,andifIgetlost,I’llbestuckinthereforwhoknowshowlong.Pushing thosethoughtsaside,Imakemywayintothemall.

You’vebeeninhereforanhourandyouhaven’tfoundanything.IsteelmyselfasIwalkdownthenext hall,carefulnottomakeanynoise.That’swhenIhearthenoise.Aslithering,hissing,gutturalgrowlhas reachedmyears,andIknowwhatitis.They’recoming.

Pushingmywantforextraclothesaside,myonlygoalnowistogetoutofherealive.Irunbackdown thehall,taketheescalatorstepsthreeatatime,andIhavejustmadeittothelastsetofstoreswhenIlook up.Icanseetheshadowscrawlingdownthesidesofthewalls,andalllogichasgoneoutthewindow.Irunasif lavaisbeneathmyfeet.Iseemycarwaitingbehindthedoors,andIgiveallmyenergytomakingittothecar.

I’m20feetawayfromthedoorswhenmyfootcatchesonsomething,andasmybodyhitstheground,I realizethatIwon’tmakeitintime.Thenoiseintensifiesastheyrealizethesamething.Igettomyfeet,pull outthegunandmachete,andlookmyfamilyintheeyesasIgetreadytotakemyfinalstand

TheDandelionDiadem

DevinStuart-Grade12

“Papa?”Iwhisperedsoftly,testinghisconsciousness.

“Clair?”Herasped,“Gobacktobed.Thesunwaitsfornoman.”

IstoodinthedoorwayforabitdecidingifIshouldretaliateornot.WithnothingcomingtomindIslowly creptmywaytowardsthebedavoidingallthewoodenboardsIknowcreakwithpressure.Beforehehadthechance tomullovermypresenceIlungedupandragdolledontothebed Startlinghim,hewhippedhisstubbyarmbudat mestoppingrightbeforehehitmyface

“Boy!Whatisitthatyouwantfrommeatthedevil'shour?”

Icouldn'tstoplaughingathismalformedexpression MakingmyselfathomeIgrabbedtheblanketand forcedhimtosharehalfofitwithme.SilentforawhilehenallymadeamendswiththefactthatIwasn'tgoingto leavewithoutsomethinginreturn.

“IsupposeIcanspareanoldtale.”Hechuckled, proppinghimselfuprightonthebed.Hiseyesscannedthe roombrieybeforeseemingtosettleonagoodstorytotell.

“Onceuponatime,”hestarted,“therewasayounggirlandhermother Eachdaytheyounggirlwouldcry tohermotherclaimingshehadnofriendstoplaywithinthetown Oneday,beforeshewenttobed,themothertold thedaughter,‘Tomorrowwhenyougoouttoplay,Iwantyoutowalkaroundtown,ndallthekidswhoalsolook liketheyhavenofriendstoplaywith,andaskthemiftheywanttoplaywithyou’Thenextdaytheyounggirl happilyskippedaroundthetownandapproachedeverykidwhoappearedlonely,herarmsoutwide.Shebegandoing thiseveryday.Hernewfriendswouldfollowherlikebabyducklingstrottingbehindthemotherhenastheywalked throughthebrickstreets.Someofthemeventookthetimetomakeheranadorablecrownmadeofdandelions.This wentonforquitesometime,untiloneday,theyounggirlmadeaclosefriendshecouldcallherbestfriend.Finally, notfeelinglonely,shetookthedandelioncrownoandchoseafriendtotakeherplaceasthemotherduck The groupcontinueddaybydayandtheyounggirl'smomcouldnothavebeenmoreproudofher ”

“Isthattheend?”Iask

“Soonerorlatertheyounggirl'sbestfriendhadtomoveandonceagainshehadnofriendstoplaywith Days latershewasdgetingwithgrassoutonherlawnwhenagirlapproachedherwearingacrownofinterlaced dandelions.Thegirllookedatherandsaid,‘Wouldyouliketoplaywithus?’”

Isattherewithabiggrinonmyface.

“Awwww,”Isqueal,“that'ssosweet.”

“Wouldyouliketoknowhowthestoryends?’’Dadaskedenticingly

Ifranticallynodinagreement Suddenly,hisfrontchangedandhisvoicedroppedatleasttenoctaves

“You'relookingatit,son”

Confused,Ilookaround,waitingfortheanswertomakeitswaytomysmallhead Washetalkingabout himselforthisbedroom?ScanningthewallsInoticetheportraitofmomalongwithabouquetofyellowowers beneathit.Mydadthensankdownintothecoversandrestedhisheadonthepillow.

“Withenoughtime,”hescolded,facehalfburiedintheblankets,“eventhemostseeminglyinnocentconcept ofpowercanbirthacorruptnation.Allittakesistoomuchpowerintoolittlehands.”

Heturnedhisback,layingonhisside,revealinghisseveredarmandaplethoraofscars

“Dad,”Igiggled,“you’resilly!”

Ihoppedoutofthebedandbeganwalkingbacktomyroom Howcanastorylikethatleadtosomethingso serious Ishruggedito Mydadcanbesoweirdsometimes

ThatnightIcouldn'tsleep.

The Truth

Serena Scott- Grade 11

There is nothing so certain in life as change

And sometimes silence is the loudest voice

Disobedience can be a part of justice

And occasionally being rude can gain you respect

So with all these contradictions,

I ask: What in this world is true?

The answer, I know, is nothing

To every rule, there is an exception

Every fact has its flaw

And even the “saints” among us lie

Deception is everywhere, the world is an oxymoron

No one is good or bad

We are all just gray

Still, we exhaust ourselves, attempting to place things in bins

To separate the black from the white, the right from the wrong, up from down, left from right

We become so polarized, fighting over the very concepts we made up

Concepts that are just humanity's labels for the things we cannot touch

Yet we fight and fight and we don’t know how to stop

When the stakes rise, we turn our words into bullets

Arguments become wars

Boys dressed up as soldiers have given their lives

The dead bodies of citizens punctuate the sentences of our leaders

A simple debate becomes a living hell

So when I ask again what in this world is true, the answer, I know, is still nothing.

AsLongasYouLive

TobiFischer-Grade11

DarknesswasthefirstthingTristansawwhenheopenedhiseyes Hetriedtostepforwardonlytobe metwithawall Frantically,hetestedtheareabyfeelingaroundhim,onlytobemetwithsimilarwallsonall sides,eachonlyafewinchesawayfromhisbody Hisbreathingpickedupastheclaustrophobiabegantoset in

Where am I ? Hethoughttohimself Heleanedintothewalldirectlyinfrontofhimandpoundedon it

“Letmeout!”Hescreamed,bashinghisfistsintothewoodinfrontofhimuntilitstartedtocreakand splinterunderthepressure Hegaveitacouplemoretriesuntilitshatteredtorevealsunlight Tristanpushed theremainsofthewalldownandsteppedoutintocoldgrassthatsquelchedfrommoisture Theairaroundhim wasthickandashelookeduphesawanovercastnightsky Herecognizedhissurroundingsanddetermined thathewasinthesmallcemeteryjustoutsideoftown.Hehadonlybeenthereoncetovisitalong-dead relative,sotheareawasunfamiliar.Thetombstoneswereunkempt,surroundedbythickfoliageandamazeof trees.Helookedaroundtoseeagroupoffiguresdressedinblackhuddledtogether.

Mourners? Heaskedhimself.Tristanapproachedthembeforeclearinghisthroat.

“Uh,hey,sorrytointerruptbutcouldsomebodytellmewhereweare?IthinkI'malittlelost.”Noone turnedtoacknowledgehim.Gettingfrustrated,Tristantriedagain.

“Hello?”hetried,puttingahandononeofthemourner'sshouldersonlytohaveitpassthrough completely.Outoffear,Tristanstumbledbackimmediately,staringathishandandthenbacktothemourners.

“Hello?Thisisn'tfunny,answerme!W-whereamI?”Hecontinuedtostumblebackwardbefore bumpingintothewoodenboxagain.Cautiously,heturnedtocomefacetofacewithacoffin.Hiseyes widened.

“AmI…”hestarted.

“Dead?”anunfamiliarvoicecutthroughthecrowdfrombehindhim.Tristanturnedfranticallytoseea tallmanstandinginthecrowdstaringdirectlyathim.

“Canyouseeme?WhereamI?”Tristanasked,growingmorefranticwitheachpassingsecond.The mansmirkedathim,revealingasetofrazor-sharpcanines.Tristantookastepback.Themandidnotlook human.Hehadthefigureofone,atallslendermaninatailoredblacksuit.Hewouldalmostblendintothe crowdifitweren'tfortheskullofagoatperchedontopofhiswell-keptraven-blackhairandpiercingred eyes

“Tristan,right?”Heasked,stillleeringattheboy Tristangulpeddownhisnervesbeforemanaginga slightnod

“Good,good,”Helookedathishandsasifuninterestedintheconversation “WellTristan,I’mhereto informyouthatyouaredead”Tristanslammedintothebackofthecoffininshock

“Dead!No,you’relyingtome Ican'tbedead I Ihavesomuchlefttodo whoevenareyou?”

Themansmirkedbeforewalkingcloserandextendingahand

“I'mwhatyoumortalsmightcalltheDevil,oryoucancallmeDamien,whicheversuitsyourfancy” Tristancouldn'tbelievewhathewashearing

“W-whatareyougoingtodowithme?”Tristanasked

“Hmm?Oh,well,Iwasplanningonreapingyoursoul,but seeingasyou'resoadamantaboutliving, Icouldcutyouadeal”Damiensmirked,hisgrinradiatedmalice,notunliketheCheshirecat “A deal?”Tristanaskeddubiously

“Yes,adeal I’llputitinsimpletermsforyou Inexchangeforyoursoul,Irequirethesoulthat's linkedwithyourown,asoulmateifyouwill Theoneyoulovemost”

Tristangulped Hedidn'tknowwhattodo Thesouloftheonehelovesmostorhisown Helooked Damieninhisunnaturallyredeyeswhichseemedtoglimmersimilarlytothoseofasnake.Hisgoalsbecame clearer;hecouldn'tlethimselfdie,notnow.Itwasasacrificehewouldhavetomake.

“Fine I’lldoit,but,howdoI youknow doit?Itriedtotouchsomeoneandmyhandpassedright through IfIcan’ttouchthem,howamIsupposedtokillthem?”Hemanaged,stillunsureofthedeal

Damiensmiledwide,extendingahand

“I’llgiveyoutemporarylifeuntilmidnight,thinkofitasyourveryown Cinderella story Ifyoudon’t doitbeforethen,well,justlikeCinderella,the‘magic’willwearoffandyou'llbedeadasadoornail. Forever.”

Tristantookthehand,surprisedatitschill.Thetwoshookandinaninstantathickfogsurrounded them.Tristancoughed,feelingitinhislungsonlytopause.Hecouldfeelagain.Hehadn'trealizeditbefore butafternotbeingabletofeelanythinghissensescomingbackwasoverwhelming.Tristanwavedawaythe restofthefogbutDamienwasnolongerthere.Slowly,heputonefootinfrontoftheotherandmadehisway tothethintrailweavingthroughthegravesandintothedenseforest.Itwasalreadyadrearyday,withclouds coveringthesun,butwiththetreetopsweavingtogether,itbecameevendarker.Thepathcontinuedand Tristanstumbledthrough,overlycautiousatthesnapsinthedistanceandlowrustling.

“You’refineTristan,it'sfine…it'llbeoversoon.Youcan'tdie,notyet.”Heassuredhimself repeatedlyasafamiliarsetofhousescameintoview.

Tristanknewwherehewasnow.Steppingpastthethresholdoftreeshemadehiswayontoanarrow roadlitbyflickeringstreetlamps.Fogswirledaroundhisanklesashecontinuedtomakehiswaythroughthe pathofhouses.Hisnervesbegantopickupashegotclosertowhereheneededtogo.

Do I want to do this? I don't even know if I can do it… but… I can't be dead either. I know it's selfish of me but I have to. I have so much planned I can't just abandon it all. He’ll forgive me. He has to.Tristan resolved,findinghimselfatthedoorstepofhispartner.

Reachingintohispockethetookoutthedoorkeyandsliditintothelock.Tristanpushedthedoor openwithacreakandsilentlymadehiswaythroughthedarkhome Repetitionmadeiteasyeveninthedark forTristantomakehiswaytothekitchen,grabaknifefromthewoodenblockandmakehiswayupthe creakystaircasewithoutmakinganoise Thedoorwasthefirstatthetopandhewastednotimeinpushingit open Standinginfrontofthewindowwashim Tristanstoodinthedoorwaytolookathisboyfriend He lookedmoredisheveledthannormal,hislightblondhairmattedinthebackasthoughithadn'tseenproper careinmorethanafewdays Heworeablackhoodieherecognizedtobeoneofhisownwithapairofgray sweatpants,somethingTristanhadneverseenhimwearbefore WhenheturnedaroundTristansawtearstains lininghischeeks

“Tristan?”Heaskedthroughachokedsob HetookastepforwardandTristantooktheopportunityto lungeathim,throwingthebothofthemtotheground Inamomentofblindfaith,Tristainstabbedintothe boy'schest Tristan’stearsranasfreeasthebloodseepingfromthewound Itwasn'tsupposedtogolikethis Heregrettedhisdecisionimmediately Afamiliarfogbegantoswirlandinaninstant,thewell-dressedman withpiercingredeyeswasstandingbesidehim

“Well,well,youtrulywereentertaining Youactuallymanagedtodoit”Aghostlyapparitionof Tristan'spartnerappearednexttoDamien Helookedshockedandscared

“Tristan?”heaskedagain,thistimewithatoneofbetrayal

“Well,Tristan,adeal’sadeal,I’lltakehiminyourplace You’llstayalive”Damiensmiled Tristan lookedoninterror.Hedidn'twantthisanymore.

“W-wait…No,Itakeitback,Idon'twantthis.”

Damien'ssmilewidenedunnaturally.

“Oh,Tristan,that'snothowthisworks,you'vemadeyourchoiceandnowyouhavetolivewithit,for aslongasyoulivethistimearound.Goodbye,Tristan.”

“Wait,no,please-”

Inaflash,theywerebothgoneandTristanwasleftalone.Filledwithimmenseregrethemadehisway tohisfeetandstaggeredoutofthehomeandintothestreet.Hewasfilledwithdespair,justnowfullyrealizing thattheonethinghehadinlifewasgone.Histruereasonforlivingwastakenbyhisownhands.Thewords werestillfreshinhismind.

“Youhavetolivewithitforaslongasyoulive…thistimearound.”

AllDeathBringsNewBeginnings

DamienReinders-Grade10

Theoldwomanhadnotspokeninages,thoughitdidnotmatter,sincetherewasnoonetospeakto Neitherhadthewomanseen,norhadsheheard,thattheworldaroundherwascomingtoarest

TheDivinehadfeltapresence,forthatwasHerpurpose.TherewassomeoneSheforgot.She followed,andfollowed,astheheavydespairdensenedtheair Sheknewthattheoriginofthispresencehad suffered,butdidnotquiteknowtheextentoftheirpain.So,whenShecameuponthediminished,patheticold woman,Shecouldn’thelpbutpityher.ButthentheguilthadclimbedupandoutofHerthroat,andwrenched sobsandcriesfromHermouththatwereunfamiliartoHer

Thoughthecrippledwomancouldnothear,shefelttheveiloflifetremorfromthecries.Andforthe firsttimeindecades,shemadeasound.

“Areyouheretotakemeaway?”

TheDivinedidnotspeaktothewoman.TheDivineinsteadplacedHerhanduponthewoman'shead. ThepurelifethatradiatedfromHerhandseepedintothewoman'smind,andthemagicreturnedherlost senses

Thoughthewomancouldnowsee,shekepthereyesclosed,feelingthatitwasright.Thewoman spokeagain

“Youareheretotakemeaway.Ithankyou.Icherishyou.”

“ButyoudonotyetknowwhoIam,”theDivinespoke,curiousastowhythewomanwassowilling.

“YouareLove,andyouareLife YouareHate,andyouareDeath Yourepresenteverythingwehave thehonoroffeeling,andexperiencing.”

“Youdonotwanttodie”

“Youareright;Idonotwanttodie,butIamready”

“Doyoufeelthiswaybecauseitistheonlywaytostopthispainyoufeel?”TheDivinewasholding backtears,hopingthedamwouldnotbreak

“No,Idonotthinkthat IfIstayedalive,andstayedwithyou,Icouldfindhappinessagain But,my timehascome.”

“Youareright Mayyoustandforme?AndImaytheneaseyourpain”

Thewoman,thoughshewasbroken,foundthestrengthtostandforthelastpersontocareforher.The Divinetookherhand,andledheroutofthedeadforestthewomanrestedin.Thewomanfeltnopainwhileon herfeet,fortheDivinegaveherstrength,andtrustedHertoguideherthroughunharmed

“Wearehere,”theDivineclaimed,placingahandonthewoman'sshouldertostopher.“Youmaysit fornow”

Thewomandidasshewasasked,andtheDivineremovedHerhandfromthewoman,andturned awayfromher.TheDivinelookedtowardstheempty,lifelessplainbeforethem,andreachedoutHerhand. Theearthbelowthembegantotremble,andburst,creatingahole,justbigenoughfortwo

TheDivinereachedouttothewoman,notsayinganything,andnottouchingher.Butthewomanfelt theDivine’spresence,andreachedoutinresponse.Graspingherhand,theDivinehelpedthewomanup,but insteadofleadingher,Sheliftedherofftheground,carryingherinHerarms ThewomantrustedtheDivine, andfeltthetruthradiatingfromHerpresence.

“Thankyou.Yourkindnesseaseseachwoundinmymind.”

“IamsorryIdidnotcomesooner IamashamedItooksolong”

Theoldwomanjustsmiled,andburiedherfaceinthecrookofHerneck Beingcarriedlikethis remindedherofherchildhood Thememoryofhermothercarryingherintothehouseaftershefelloutofthe treefromtheirbackyardresonatedinhermind,butshedidnotcry.

TheDivinesteppedintotheopeningShecreatedintheearth,andlayeddownonHerback,still holdingthewomaninHerarms.

“Areyouready?”

“Yes,”thewomansaid,smilinginrelief

TheDivineplacedHerhandsoftlyonthewoman’sback,andshecametorest.Herlastbreathlefther peacefully,withoutstruggle,andwithoutpain TheDivineclosedHereyestoo,andsummonedtheearthto enclosearoundHer TheDivineexpelledHerlastbreath,andasitseepedthroughthesoil,asproutgently sprungupwherethebreathreachedthesurfaceoftheearth.Asingleplant,sproutingwherenothingelsewas, inanempty,deadworld,markingthegraveoflife,andrepresentinganewbeginning

Feelings Towards Food

Camryn Becker- Grade 10

I stare at the slice of chocolate cake set before me My heart beats a heavy rhythm, faster than the heavy rain outside My hands are a dead weight in my lap, gently tingling when I move my fingers. I feel the guilt creeping up on me, a gentle shadow with nothing but malice in its heart The darkness presses at the corners of my mind and a light sweat trickles down my back Fear melds with the approaching guilt, the thought of eating welcomed but repulsed all in the same moment My hand is unsteady as I lift my fork, the shaking nearly enough to rack my entire body with harsh shivers The nausea rises, but I push it down, gently cutting a piece of cake off and lifting it to my mouth It tastes like nothing, as if it isn’t even there It almost feels like I’m simply eating sand rather than chocolatey cake I chew slowly, as if trying to muster any taste, before allowing myself to swallow I push the plate away, dropping the fork Guilt encases me, a harsh embrace to my mind Tears gently slide down my cheeks, but I’m not there to wipe them away anymore I have lost myself, drowning in severe amounts of self-loathing No one will save me, especially when I can’t even save myself from my mind. From my nightmare. From my feelings towards food.