We dedicate this issue in loving memory of Brother Daniel Aubin, our revered President, and Mr Raymond Smith, our esteemed educator The grief we carry with us is evidence of the great love they showed us.
CreativeWriting
Table of Contents
Front and Back Cover Art by Heidi Munchow
Editorial Team and Patrons
A Letter from the Editor
A Letter from the President
Fossils of a Forgotten Frontier Series by Logan Billington
Forever Burning by S.B
The Time of Time Travel by Sophia Longton
Excerpt from You Eat What You Kill by Isabella Guevarra
The Foil: All for the Inheritance by E C Bryant
Fossils of a Forgotten Frontier Series by Logan Billington
War by Sasha Burgos
Ashes to Ashes by Sasha Burgos
Petal Poetry Series by Sofia Marroig
Liquid Gold by Rubi Gonez
My Death Was Opened by Lauren Shramko
Forever Doomed by Blaise Nobile
Heaven at the Gas Station by Daniela Contrera
Pitcher (Sketch) by John Power
How to Know by Anonymous
Write a Poem by Daniela Contrera
On the Behalf of Christopher Carbel by Isabella
The Return of Spring by
The Garden of Love by Sophia Belle Velez
Space Shuttle Erroneous by Eloise J Coldwell
Painting in the Skies by the Masked Marshmallow
Photo by Gabi Lu
Creation Myth: Water by Jameson McMechan
Photo by Gabi Lu
Summer Vacation is Finally Here by Sarina Handel
Petal Poetry Series by Sofia Marroig
The Uniform by Sarina Handel
Editorial Team
Noelle Austin
Sasha Burgos
Eloise Coldwell
Isabella Guevarra
Bryce L. King
Sophia Longton
Jameson McMechan
Heidi Munchow
Sophia Velez
Patrons
A LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
To The Creative Writing Club: Each and everyone of you are strong, precious and loved Thank you for another wonderful year spent with you all.
Prism dates back to the stone ages of the 1980's, but has been our source of creativity and pride in our current student body since we revived it last year after a hiatus.
In continuing the traditions of this magazine, we hope to impart a passion of the fine arts into a generation in need of inspiration as this issue especially highlights our respect for the artistic tradition of publishing.
As a club, we named this issue “Time of the Season,” (yes, after the hit Zombies song), in an effort to include and promote as much diversity of authors, artists, pieces and expression as possible while relishing in the richness of our pasts. As you read, enjoy the shifting seasons through colors and creative expression. I hope that you are as touched by the heart of our SJPII students as I am. Wishing you healing and joy from my soul to yours, thank you.
Bryce L. King
AP Literature
English III Honors
Women’s Leadership & Creative Writing Club
A LETTER FROM THE PRESIDENT
Out of everything I have done at SJPII, I am most proud of my involvement in the Creative Writing Club. It fills me with pride to see the wonderful community we have created and the support we give each other through our writing.
I wish to thank all the members of this amazing club for trusting me to be your president. You have trusted me with your stories and I am proud to present your hard work for others to read.
A special thanks to the readers, may you be inspired by the incredible pieces presented here and begin to create your own stories. Enjoy the photographs and artistic pieces created and allow your creativity to come to life.
Immense growth was accomplished this year by our club members and rest assured we are already planning for the next issue. Thank you for your support.
Eloise J. Coldwell
Fossils of a Forgotten Frontier Series
by Logan Billington
by S.B. urningB
The pai It torments N They g
For this pain is like no other, it melts my mind.
My head catches fire at the sight of sunlight. No matter how much water I drink, it always returns, It worsens at night, as I toss and turn.
Every day it comes, scorching my mood, I burn with wrath, what should I do? It sets my mind aflame, and I retreat to the dark
It dampens the pain, no matter how lonely I feel. days, holidays, f it.
nds and family, I g it.
instead you stay mind, you never
The pain makes me weak, in both body and mind.
Air leaves my lungs in pathetic gasps, It makes me stumble with uncertainty, and my muscles weak with fatigue
Why am I so tired? I’ve done nothing at all.
“Please, please please, leave me alone!” I wail at the pain.
It does not answer, it only brings me more agony
“Why won’t you go away?” I scream in vain. I bang my head against the wall, again, and again, and again.
I sob on the floor, blood rushing to my head This will never truly end
The idea of time travel is doubted by many. Most people deem it impossible to insert oneself into a different time period than the one they are in. This common belief is what caused so much conflict to the people who believe time travel is real, and claim that they have experienced it first hand
The first alleged case of time travel occurred in 1871. Rose Hill was a 25 year old Victorian woman. She lived in a small town in New Hampshire, and her family had accumulated a large amount of wealth from their family business. Her family owned an antique furni-
iture store. Although she was exceptionally intelligent, Rose’s gifted mind was often frowned upon and pushed into the shadows. She had requested numerous times to become more involved in the business, but her family insisted that she stay out of it and instead focus on her upcoming wedding. She did not get a say in this either. Her family had already arranged her marriage to a government official’s son, and it was likely a business strategy to make their company more widespread across the country
entered the front door, her whole family drowned her with questions and condemnation. They have been searching for her for hours. She attempted to explain her confusion, but her father wouldn’t hear it. He took her keys to the shop and banned her from stepping on the premises
The Time of
Sophia Longton Time Travel
by
The fact that Rose no longer had her own set of keys did not inhibit her from entering the shop. She was insistent on going back to look at the clock. Her desire to go back grew stronger as the day went on. It soon became unbearable. She needed to see the clock. This obsessive behavior led her to a choice she never intended to turn to. That night, Rose approached the window of the shop and threw a brick at it. As the glass shattered, she climbed through the window, the glass cutting through her skin
Looking at the clock gave her an adrenaline rush. Just like before, she focused on the hands of the clock. In what felt like seconds, the color of the sky changed again. She opened her eyes and saw a faint blue sky covered in clouds This time was different than the last The sky wasn’t the only thing
Rose spent most of her free time looking around the shop and learning how each antique worked. One afternoon, she was looking at a clock, examining the hands as they moved slowly from number to number. All of a sudden, the room became dark. Rose looked out the window, but there was nothing but a dark, blank sky. She lit a candlestick and turned back to the clock An eerie presence filled the shop as she read the clock It read 11:40 She first entered the shop at 12:50 pm
Rose left the shop and went home. As she
that changed The clock was still there, but Rose was no longer in the shop She was in a garage, and the clock now had a price tag on it.
Rose looked around her. The garage was filled with people all dressed in strange clothing. A man walked up to her and informed her that this was a garage sale and asked her if she wanted to buy the clock She stood silently Multiple customers tried to engage with her, but no progress was made She was too stunned to speak, and could
hardly interpret the meaning of their foreign words. The owner of the sale approached her once more He informed her that she was a distraction to the shoppers, and that if she was not planning on purchasing something, she would be escorted out of the area. She slowly walked out of the garage.
As she roamed the streets, she was approached by a man in a striped suite. He complimented her outfit. This was a rarity compared to the stares and whispers she received from everyone else she encountered since her arrival. For this reason, she eagerly agreed when he asked her on a coffee date. She couldn’t reject the first person who seemed genuinely interested and amused by her.
They started talking, and realized they had a lot in common He said his name was Charlie, and he enjoyed looking at and collecting antiques He was so intrigued by them that he turned his home into an antique furniture collection When the night ended, he asked her to come see his house, and she agreed. When she stepped inside, she was immediately in awe. It looked so similar to her family’s shop that she experienced déjà vu. Charlie was a bold man. He was so bold that he offered her the option to spend the night at his home. Rose was in a desperate situation, and had nowhere else to go. She accepted. They filled the night with deep discussions and conversations about their favorite antiques. Overall, it was a successful night, and all went well.
Months went by, and Rose and Charlie grew more in awe of each other at every interaction Eventually, Charlie proposed It was a more magical moment than Rose could ever imagine They had a small, modest wedding; the only guests were Charlie’s immediate family. When the topic of Rose’s family came up, she froze. She had spent so long in this alternate world that the memories of her family and backstory were fading away. When the memory came back to her, she quickly improvised, explaining that her family did not live in the United States, and instead were residing in Germany. She fabricated a story that although they wanted nothing more than to be present during her special day, they had already made plans, and could not attend.
Things seemed to be going well for the new couple. There was only one issue within the relationship As Charlie grew old, Rose didn't age at all Her appearance had not changed since the day she was transported to the garage She did everything in her power to cover her youthful look, but it was inevitable that as the years went by, Charlie grew suspicious He persistently suggested she see a doctor, but she refused. She already knew what the reason could be, and she wanted to keep it secret.
Eventually, Charlie died of old age. It was the most miserable day of Rose’s life. She had no idea if the same thing would happen to her, or if being in a different time made her young forever. After a few years of seclusion, she finally started to branch out again. Almost instantly, she found love again. This time, it was a French interior designer that caught her eye. Just like before, they had a wedding with his family attending, and a made up tale excused the absence of hers One day, the man fell off a balcony, and sadly passed away. Rose continued the cycle of falling in love and losing her spouse, all while never aging a day. At some point, she accepted this as her life. As far as her story goes, Rose arrived at the garage sale in 1971. She could still be out in the world today, finding love and romance in the current generation. There are a few other reports of time travel, but none have been investigated as far as her story. Nothing has been factually proven, but Rose’s story is enough to keep many people hopeful that there is a potential way to time travel, and it just needs to be unlocked.
Excerpt from NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
This is a small excerpt from a recently made story, currently titled “You Eat What You Kill.” Austin and Lance are best friends. Both of them are a little crazy in their own unique ways, but Lance was a different kind of crazy He was arrested after he finished high school, and fell sick with a disease called Kuru after being released. Kuru is a very rare and incurable prion disease. It originated from a practice of cannibalism in New Guinea in which they consumed the brains of dead people as a funeral ritual It was contagious among the people with this habit It causes tremors, trouble moving and swallowing, uncontrollable bouts of laughing, slurred speech, mood swings, and an eventual complete loss of control The victim of this disease is ultimately bedridden and dies six to twelve months in a coma after experiencing symptoms
Austin walked inside Lance's room holding his headphones in one hand and his phone in the other “Hey, buuuddy” Lance turned his head slightly and smiled, but didn't say anything. He had lost the ability to speak. “I brought headphones for you,” Austin said as he sat down. “I'll leave my phone here on the charger. I'm not sure when your last day awake will come ” Lance looked away but rolled his eyes Austin knew he was telling him to be more optimistic. “Seriously, though. I keep coming hoping you're still awake. You could be in a coma tomorrow. But I'll still visit and sit with you.” Lance smiled again and closed his eyes. “Yes, I know, I'm very sentimental,” Austin muttered, connecting the headphones, “but I have to be. This might be the last time I speak to you.” Lance glanced at him with angry eyes, telling him to stop. Austin smiled almost in shame and lowered his head. “Sorry. You're right We should enjoy today But, you know, Lance, I'm gonna miss you ” Lance grasped his hand again and his eyes softened with sympathy and reassurance. Austin nodded and understood. “It was fun, though. Becoming friends with you and exchanging weapons. Hunting animals–and people–and going to that mental ward We've been through so many things and it was fun. So thanks.” Lance smiled and closed his eyes again. It was like his smile was saying, “you're welcome” and “you too”. Austin smiled at the thought and squeezed Lance's weak hand back “You want your music now? You look pretty tired today” Lance nodded slightly and accepted the headphones. As soon as Austin pressed play on his phone, Lance's body relaxed and he leaned back in his bed. Austin smirked and put down his phone. “Just let me know if you want the volume altered ” Lance nodded and squeezed his hand in understanding. “You really love beach music,
huh? I'll never forget when you first saw the beach. It was like a revelation. A ray of light on your psychopath ” Lance smirked and tried to squeeze his hand again, but he was too feeble to make much movement. Austin sighed and took away his hand. “It's okay. Just rest ” Lance relaxed his hand and a moment of silence passed. Austin thought he was dead, but glanced at the monitor and sighed in relief as he recognized the steady heart rate line But he knew he should expect that flatline, and looked down at motionless Lance. The thought of his best friend dying filled his eyes with tears, and even though he was mad at himself for being so emotional, he hoped the sentiment was normal and wanted to see Lance's humored reaction. “You know, Lance, I might cry.” Lance smirked again and his body slightly moved in a chuckle. Austin chuckled, too, but then gasped as Lance opened his eyes. They were red, stung with tears. Austin grasped his hand and lowered his head, struggling to keep the feeling behind “I'll miss you, Lance.” Lance made one final, strong movement and squeezed Austin's hand again. Then he closed his eyes, and they didn't open again After a while, Austin stood up, wiped his eyes, and turned up the volume of Lance's beach music. “Goodbye, Lance.” He got up and left the room.
Austin kept visiting until the heart rate line went flat, and he said his last goodbyes to his best friend once again.
An All for The Inheritance Story
by E. C. Bryant
I stare at the wall littered with small holes in front of me Of the 156 days I have spent here, you could tell I made the cabin my home. The target stares at me, taunting me with its chippedred paint that is surrounded by blues and whites. I throw the dagger head on, lying in a bed of tangled sheets. I don’t think I’ll ever leave this room. It goes into the white outer line; I sigh at another missed shot. Would I even get hit by the red bullseye? I tried to wallow in my pity only for a tall, lanky boy my age, to burst through the door
“Enzo no time to sulk around Madame is choosing her elites!”
Renato always seems to be happier than before with our old cabin. His frame barely touches the top of the door. I stare at him, insipidness held in my eyes, refraining from moving in the bed I have made my home.
“I'd rather stay here. It’s not like Madame picks the newest refugees. She only picks the experienced ” I respond, giving my back to him
“You never know, this could be our day. Besides, I put the extra ballots in for our names no backing out now!”
“Give me a minute then.” I sigh, urging him to leave so I may change. I guess my plans have changed.
…
In a grand kingdom, far from the pitiful boy, lived a girl Within the confines of her humble abode, Isabella looked out the window, upon the townspeople who lived their little lives In the castle, Isabella and her tutor learned about the history of the five kingdoms. Unfortunately, Isabella was distracted and failed to notice the lesson. In light of this, her tutor called out, “Your royal highness.”
“I’m sorry.” She responds, looking at the board with confusion written over her face.
“Isabella, you know better than to look at distractions This is very important It’s–”
“The family tree of the Florentino family. Yes, Alfonzo, I know this already. From the great
divide arose two sons. One for justice, and one for evil. The line of justice was successful and rose in prosperity out of the five kingdoms, and the one of evil, fell to ruins, unheard of since the divide Justice reigns with my father as the king, and we haven’t suffered any losses since ”
“I understand you know Isabella, but it’s important we go over history.”
“But why? Isn’t it more useful to look over tactics and alliances with the other kingdoms, and the Barren lands?”
“Yes, but history accounts for each. Remember your highness, history is only shown through the perspective we choose to depict it from Although you say justice reigns with your father in rule, and the line of justice was successful, you provide no reasons as to why the evil wasn’t,” Alfonzo spoke, eyes of jade darkening.
Isabella never felt befuddled by the history of her family until this moment. Could there possibly be a flaw in her knowledge about the lineage her family came from? Impossible, she thought, unbeknownst to her tutor approaching her, an ancient book in hand.
“Many do not know the secrets of the evil lineage, or if it ever really was I encourage you, my dear, to research and read the history of both sides Perspectives and all, tell me then, if justice is
” Alfonzo is interrupted by a slam of a door, making both the girl and tutor flinch.
Casting an eye to the door, Isabella meets the blue eyes of a man, and a younger boy next to him who was slightly older than her.
“That will be enough, Alfonzo. You are dismissed.” The older one says in a stern voice.
“Your royal highness,” Alfonzo says, immediately bowing down, “what a pleasant surprise it is to see you here!”
“And it is the least to see you. I’ve heard enough. You fill the Principessa with false ideas and fantasy, and implant fallacies of your folk. I know you dare not speak fraudulent of the Florentino daily which you serve.”
“I’m sure you must have misheard! I only was lecturing on–”
“I’ve had enough, Alfonzo We will discuss your treason later ” The king spoke, making Isabella fear his wrath, something foreign to her, “David, escort your sister to her room I will have a discussion with her there.”
“Yes father.” Speaks the boy, as he motions for his sister to leave.
As the girl stands, she notices her tutor’s book is ripped out of his ancient hands. Unwilling to watch the scene, Isabella picks up her blue dress, and follows her older brother to the halls. Walking with haste, she catches up to him
“David, slow down!” She pleas, her older brother walking ahead
“Hurry up, Bella.”
“Where are we even going? This isn’t the corridor to our rooms.”
“You seriously want to go to your room, and wait to endure a boring lecture from Father?”
“No?”
“Then let’s go practice.”
“But what about father–”
“Must you be a people-pleaser? I was going to suggest a bit of sword fighting–”
“Why didn’t you say so before? What are you waiting for?”
“Lower your voice or there won’t be any sword fighting.” David shushes her, before the two let out a small laugh, and run off to go find their practice weapons
…
On the other side of the kingdom, laid the Barren Lands– housing bandits, traitors, and the outcasts of the five kingdoms. Here, Enzo and Renato stood among the many women and men waiting to be picked by the infamous Madame for her chosen elites– an event that took place every so often, or as Enzo viewed it, only when the others died The gloomy day and rainsoaked clothes made Enzo want to leave the place He didn’t want to be here; rather, he wanted to wallow in his pity after everything that happened in the last six months. Alas, he was dragged here by the lanky boy, who was the only thing that was with him from the beginning of this crazy adventure.
As the elderly lady came to the stand, her matted white hair stood out, causing many to question if she was worthy to judge at all
“Good evening all It is Selection Day!” The lady proclaims as the crowd chants and cheers
“As you all know, I choose my Elites– the strongest candidates in battle strategy, patience, and most importantly, combat. As the rebellions with the kingdoms begin to increase and spread, I grow in need for more members each year. However, betrayal is near. My friends, I bestow this knowledge upon you: not all shall be trusted, and it is up to you to know who to trust when the time comes ”
At this statement, Enzo shares a look to his friend, whose eyes are filled with fantasy from the woman’s words. Continuing to glance at his neighbors, almost everyone around him is in a trance-like state. Was this woman a witch? Some crone who created a following of combativeness based on the belief that they could really beat and overthrow the kingdoms. Observing the crowd, Enzo took into consideration her words; not all shall be trusted. Focusing back to the lady, Enzo meets the hawk-like eyes of the women, as she holds the glass bowl of names Holding eye contact, he furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of this woman, and her grand plan. Looking back at him, Madame almost smiles at him, giving him a wink, before picking out the names.
“The following names shall be the newest elite members. They will be your officers and generals to whom you shall offer the utmost respect to. Our newest members are: Gustavo Di Donato, Lalia Presutti, Felisa Pirrozzi, Silvana De Marco, Poldi Toscano, Renato Manna, and Lorenzo Cappitani ”
Enzo didn’t care to hear the rest, as he slowly but surely realized that he was on the list.
“No, no, no. This can’t be.” He whispered to himself, as he walked backwards, trying to get
away from the stage where the woman with hawk eyes stood, smiling all too well at him. It seemed like he was drowning, no air coming to his lungs as he moved quicker through the crowd. As he pushed through, he began to run, only looking for one place where he felt somewhat safe: his bed.
Bursting through the cabin’s door, Enzo slammed the door, progressing to the shared bedroom of Renato and himself. Throwing his boots somewhere, Enzo hyperventilates. How is it that Renato and him got picked? They were the youngest and the newest members of the committee. There must have been a mistake. As he lays down on his bed, he feels completely numb.
It must have been a few hours since the events of the late afternoon finished, since he could hear the chatter and clanging of pots and dishes from the camp Looking out the small window, he could see the dark auburn sky, lighting the sky, alongside the lanterns that gave a golden glow to the darkening sky. Hearing the faint noise of footsteps, Enzo moved to face the wall, giving his back to the visitor.
“I’m not interested, Renato. Go celebrate somewhere else.” He spoke aloud.
“I’m not sure I’m the person you are talking to ” said a calming voice, which made the boy stand up
“Madame! What are you doing here?”
“I should ask you the same thing Lorenzo. Why run away from such a grand privilege that was bestowed upon you?”
“Because I don’t want it. Renato only put my names in there just so I could do something other than sulking around ” Enzo says, sitting up, and staring down at his hands
“Who’s board is that?”
“The one there?” Enzo asked, pointing to the board with daggers embedded into the wood.
“Yes.”
”It’s mine. I practice every morning and night, and whenever I’m stressed.”
”I used to have one when I was your age.” Madame said, leading the two into a comfortable silence
“Why do you fear death, Lorenzo?”
“Sorry?”
“I know you heard me the first time.”
“What are you some witch?”
“Some call me that, but that’s besides the point. Answer the question, boy.”
“I fear I won’t live a full life The Elites are the front lines, Madame It’s a death sentence ”
“I have seen you practice Enzo, it will not be your death The Elites also fake their deaths so they can go on missions easier, and when the time comes, so will you.”
“Then you know when I will die?” Enzo questioned, and watched the elder’s face shift.
“It isn’t your time or my place to say now. Instead, we should go celebrate. And don’t worry, you will do great things,” Madame said, sitting up, and motioning for the boy to join her outside to go join the festivities Death would have to be something for Enzo to worry about later
“Again! Brace yourself. Ready…go!” David barks orders to Isabella, who was sweating and had dry mud caking her face. Dodging his blade, Isabella moves quick, caring light feet over the stone floor as if it were the ballroom. Sword fighting was a technique the Florentinos made accustomed for all males in the family to learn; never were there restrictions for girls, due to their view Ducking from the lunge David made, Isabella attempted to jab him on the side, but failed as David aimed for her side. Blocking the hit, the swords make a thunk noise as they come colliding together.
“Give up?” David asks.
“Never.” Isabella huffed, pushing her sword towards him, arms shaking, trying to hold her ground Letting go, the two circle one another
“Always have to be the trophy hunter, huh, David?” Isabella asks
“Yet, I seem to always find your flaws,” He responded curtly, kicking her feet under her, making her fall backwards. Letting out an oomph, Isabella’s view is met with the wooden sword David holds.
“Checkmate,” He says with a smirk. Rolling her eyes, Isabella took his hand and stood up with a sigh
“Will you ever let me win?”
“Eventually, until then, you have seriously got to work harder.” David said.
“Isabella!” A voice calls, making Isabella turn her head to the voice, immediate worry entering her mind.
Looking at the stairs above, Isabella and David saw their father, the king. As he stared down at them, fury filled his eyes Both children stopped their conversation and went still, fear emanating from their bodies An angry father was one thing, but an angry king was another As he made his way down, his blonde locks framed his face, highlighting odd angles. Shame floods Isabella’s face.
Stepping forward, one hand in front of his sister, David says, “Father, I can explain ”
“I don’t want you here. You are dismissed.”
David walks away knowing he’ll be yelled at later Walking forward, her father says, “To your room now ”
Isabella argues, “But Father I ”
“You directly disobeyed me. Have you learned nothing?” He interrupts, grabbing her by the shoulders, “You are a young lady, not some poor provincial child. I don’t need a scene,” He finishes, standing up tall and curtly prompting her to leave with a huff of annoyance.
In Isabella’s chambers, she sits on her bed, writing in her journal. Her daily entries were a challenge her mother assigned her before her passing, only 156 days prior. Shaking her hand, Isabella looks up at the canopy above sighing at the emptiness she felt within her chest She felt her soul had been torn out that night
Shaking her head to the feeling, Isabella looks at her ink stained hands. Blowing lightly on the parchment, she closes the journal and puts it on her desk. Feeling the breeze brush the silk sleep dress against her ankles, she walked towards her balcony, and stared out into the horizon, where the water met the dark midnight skies. She sighs to herself, “Maybe someday I’ll fix this mess or get away from it ” She holds her head in hand, rubbing her temple with frustration
Her father’s talk wasn’t something kind, only criticism about her disgraceful actions she proceeded to perform–something not addressed before the death of her mother. Looking far into the distance, Isabella wondered what life was like in the Barren lands– were they really dead after the Battle of Arechi. It seemed like it was yesterday when she did not know where her older brothers and father disappeared one night without telling her. In reality, it was six months ago
Before going back to her room, Isabella gave a glance to the sea, and quietly told herself, “One day, things will be better.”
…
Far in the future– from the pitiful boy and the fair lady– lived a young woman and man, alike in dignity and power. Both highest members of the Elites of Madame Rosalie Arcistrega, the girl from royal blood, and the boy unknownst blood flow in him Each bestowed a prophecy in the not so far future Alas, they fight one another each day, ranging from ingratitude and savior complexes bashing against the other, to which was the best form of battle strategy–that was today’s battle.
Isabella laughs at Enzo as she pushes him back, “You really think that’s the best way to fight. C’mon Cappitani, you can do better than that!”
The metals hit against each other, “Oh I know I can But can you honestly handle it?” He jokingly provokes the girl
“Bring it on!” She responds.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Florentino.” He laughs before pushing her back further. Enzo was going to prove his point that Isabella couldn’t beat him. Since they had met they had ongoing fights. Only she had won a few practice fights, and they weren’t easy to say the least.
Circling each other, the two stare at one another Isabella makes the bold move to go forward and Enzo easily dodges Knowing his next move, Isabella sidesteps him, before he can kick her feet. ‘Think like a chess player Isabella. What’s his move?’ she thought to herself, as he charged towards her, making her jump to the side. Scrambling to make a move, Isabella is met with his sword quickly meeting her as she is pushed down with the force of the other’s weapon.
“Give up?” Enzo asks, crouching down to her level with a smirk.
“I think not ” She responds, knocking him down
She shakes her head in anger. “That’s for going easy on me,” she says, punching him lightly on the arm, before standing up, “And that’s for everything else.” She finishes and drops the wooded hilt of the sword on his abdomen As the boy let out a playful groan of pain, Isabella walked ahead into the forest
As Enzo got up from the ground, he chased after her, and shortly met up with her and put his arm over her shoulders. “Must you always play the brute, Isabella?” Enzo asks, smiling at her level. Moving away Isabella stops before saying, “Since when did you start addressing me by my first name?”
He smiles, “Since now ”
“Does this mean I get to call you Lorenzo now?” She taunts him, making his smile drop “Nope. At least call me Enzo instead Lorenzo sounds too formal.”
“Then call me something other than Isabella. And when did I become a brute?”
“Since always.”
“Hey!” She playfully shoves him, before running off with him following her.
As the prophecies foretold for both young adults, joy would form from their bond, each realizing the strengths and qualities of the other, and helping them in their weakness Unlike Isabella, Enzo’s prophecy was nearer than what was predicted by others, but unbeknownst to the two, something else was brewing in the distance. War. Neither wanted to accept the fact that they would eventually be called to duty, so as long as they could enjoy the cool summer evenings and the late night swims at the lake, War was the least of their worries.
As the prophecies foretold for both young adults, joy would form from their bond, each realizing the strengths and qualities of the other, and helping them in their weakness Unlike Isabella, Enzo’s prophecy was nearer than what was predicted by others, but unbeknownst to the two, something else was brewing in the distance. War. Neither wanted to accept the fact that they would eventually be called to duty, so as long as they could enjoy the cool summer evenings and the late night swims at the lake, War was the least of their worries.
WAR.
by Sasha Burgos
Am I going to die today?
Or will I escape this nightmare alive?
Bullets ricochet,
A haunting reminder that I must survive.
You hear a noise and step, I turn to see you standing on a mine. No No No Anyone but you I step back, and you whisper, “It’s fine ”
But my heart aches, I won’t leave you as you cry.
Hours drag on, and you start to tire; Your legs tremble, a reflection of your fear
I try to soothe you as I gather wood for a fire,
But my hands shake, and I can barely draw near.
I grasp at shadows, trying to fix this, But there’s nothing I can do to change our fate
Tears stream down as I wonder why we are here.
What are we even fighting for?
So much ahead, yet we don’t even know. We are best friends, bound together as we stand,
But if this is where our story ends, I wish we’d had more time to understand.
I hold you tight, I will never let you go “I love you,” I say, as my life flashes before my eyes
As we fall to the ground, the world erupts in a bright glow.
Everything goes black as we both meet our demise.
Without you, I feel hollow.
For the love of God, why didn’t you follow?
I saw our city fall from the safety of the sea.
I saw the ash consume you, as sorrow consumed me.
We return to what was once home, as the volcano’s fire ceased I look around everywhere, I need to dig I must find you, you are my everything.
My lungs burn with effort, why can’t I breathe?
The air smells of poison, my eyes sting and water
I watch closely, as my surroundings alter. Clouds come in, raining sulfur.
Time is of the essence, we never had enough.
I miss you my son, your laugh and love. I find my home, and fight to get through When I see a hand out of the blue.
I break down the door, my heart racing. You’re still in your bed, peaceful as ever. I rush to your side, cursing the weather Your skin is so cold, what have I done? How could I leave my only son?
I wail with wrath, at my grave mistake My heart shatters at the thought of your last breath.
How could I be so selfish?
Why didn’t I check if he was behind me? Why? Why? Why?
Sasha
Burgos Ashes to Ashes
I fall to the floor, holding you tight. My lugs closing, I give up the fight.
The air is sour, I can no longer breathe
At last I will join you, on a warm summer's eve
Inspired by Pompeii by
Petal Poetry Series by Sofia Marriog
Liquid Gold by Rubi Gonez
God’s tears grace the skin. Translucent, iridescent.
As the amber star Illuminates the rippling, Crystalline droplets.
What were once flurries, Transforms into liquid gold.
What used to be hail, Will blossom into daisies. And lotuses will Be drifting on their leaf boats.
Time of the season.
Yet it becomes timelessness When cycles repeat, And becomes a blur once more.
My Death Was Opened My Death Was Opened
by Lauren Shramko by Lauren Shramko
I heard a voice way up above I took a choice and followed the dove.
I heard a voice so soft and sweet like someone above was guiding me.
Though I had died, I felt appalled That as a soon as I arrived I was already gone.
Though back in my life, I felt at peace That my afterlife Was waiting peacefully
by BlaiseNobile BlaiseNobile
Caramel milky eyes, like a dark chocolate night sky. I loved you from afar, though my words were never said The days we spend are the days we will never forget. As we dance to the tunes of our love, which people say is forever doomed.
The way you kiss is like a sweet bliss I confessed my love, and told you I missed you so I could finally call you mine, as we’ve spent so much time. The way that you act and the way that you laugh, is like an angel above, which I finally grasped.
I say I love you and you say it too As we continue to dance to the tune of our love, Which will be forever blue.
Heaven at
by Daniela Contrera
I went to heaven and came back. But it was just the gas station. I walked into the tiny store and the silver bell hanging from the sticky, glass doors
rang in my ear. In the reverberations, I heard the choirs of angels. The air was smoky, and the smell of nard and bdellium filled my lungs. Near the entrance was an altar It was a vintage TV tray. On it was a lucky cat, a fat, golden Buddha, and a cherry blossom incense holder where the smoke was coming from. I headed to the graband-go cooler in the back and opened its doors. The winds of Mount Hermon chilled my fingers and bones I stared at all the exotic and colorful drinks, but I knew they were all ambrosia and nectar in the end. I
walked through the isles full of chips, cookies, and candies “Made with real fruit!” I knew exactly from which garden I headed to the checkout counter and rang the service bell. It
She said nothing as I turned to leave. I pushed open the glass doors and the silver bell rang again It was then that God said to me, “You Carry the Ache of your Wings.” was there that I met God, called forth by the last and seventh trumpet She had thick, black hair and the bindi on her forehead matched her lips. She said nothing but hello. She didn’t need to ask how I was I could tell when she looked at me that she knew more. She scanned my sprite, gummies, and bright red lighter. I asked her for some ibuprofen for the pain in my back I paid in cash and offered alms to her with the change.
Pitcher (Sketch) by John Power
It can be hard to know the difference between The people who support you or destroy you.
How to know what intentions remain true how to know who really loves you
Which ways do our emotions deceive us?
Are we wronged and too forgiving Or too sensitive and over reacting? How to know?
Write a poem”, they said. But the real poetry lies in my head.
The real poetry lies in my heart. And unless you rip my ribcage open, And tear my arteries apart, Unless you crack open my mind, And slice through my veins,
The real poetry will there remain
And it is only transferable to paper by blood.
Notefromthe Author On the Behalf
Car Car
At an early age, Christopher Carbell’s parents both ended their lives and entrusted his older cousin with the role of being his new parent and shielding him from the truth. Eventually, though, Chris found out what happened to his parents, which made him question his whole purpose in life He couldn’t stop wondering if he was the reason why his parents had ended their lives before they could get to know him. Blaming himself for not being good enough for his parents, he shut off his emotions and his conscience and decided to take the plunge like his parents in his freshman year of high school His life was saved by his only two friends, Jack and Marvin. They convinced him to submit a poem for a school assignment, and that awakened his emotions and conscience This is that poem
by
Christopher of
bel bel
They say when my grades plummet something's wrong.
Why do we forget things?
Life is so quick, so fleeting; every emotion is breathing, so sweet.
Yet we never forget pain and anger; our stains and swaggers.
How can we be so forgetful?
a
Happiness is short, so is joy and pleasure. Yet wrath and lust rage on, teasing us by the day
How can we be so forgetful?
Our good times and feats get beaten on the streets. We only remember the struggles, our troubles and stumbles
How can we be so forgetful?
With everything on our minds, we stray to the edge With everything on the line, I'm at the end of my pledge.
How could I be so forgetful?
by
Sophia Belle Velez
Though I know we don’t have much time left…
Let me kiss you more time
Let me sing you one last goodbye
Let me hold your hand while you go
As this is what I promised all those years ago
Let me bid your scowl farewell
As it will be buried with you as well
Let your beautiful feeling, your song be known
As your quietness will soon fill our abode
Let me make memories with you before you go
Recount what foolish things we did years ago
Let me love you these final days
Let me love you freely without future’s pains
Let me make you smile one last time
Let me kiss those tears goodbye
Let me spend these last moments together
Before you leave me alone forever.
Digital Art by Gabi Lu
by Sofia Marroig
Petal Poetry Series
The Return of Spring
b y A n o n y m o u s
The frozen hush of winter fades, As sunlight spills through tangled glades.
Soft breezes hum, the robins call, And buds break free from slumber’s thrall.
The meadows blush in emerald bright, Where crocus bloom in golden light
Raindrops dance on budding leaves, A silver song the wind retrieves.
The rivers swell with melted snow, Their voices laughing as they flow.
The sky, once gray, now wide and blue,
Holds drifting clouds in lighter hue.
Bare branches don their lace of green,
The earth reborn, so fresh, so keen.
And every whisper, soft and sweet, Is spring arriving, light on feet
Petal Poetry Series by Sofia Marroig
I stand here alone, As the Garden of Love burns away. On a mountain point, above all Prometheus lies in shame. For the one who sees all, Forgets to look away Now Hyacinths grow in the disarray, And the once-beautiful garden is blown away. Its ashes flutter in the abyss Where tartarus rots without any bliss. Perfect home for the memories of the past Now charred, grotesque, a monster unmasked
The Garden of Love was left in a haze, But it was mankind that set it ablaze.
ShuttleSpace Erroneous
Veronica sat at her small table near the window, coffee in hand as she watched the Demora slowly spin on its axis. Demora isn’t much different from my coffee. She thought to herself as she stared into the dark abyss of her mug The vibrant green of the land and the mysterious blues of the ocean disappeared in what felt like a moment, replacing the once-thriving planet with a dry husk. The air was polluted with thick grey and brown smog, the ocean was so full of trash that people could walk on water, and the land was barren and destroyed.
Veronica swished her coffee around in the mug, trying to shake memories of Demora from her head. Her life on Demora, and everyone else's for that matter, was over and dwelling on the past only brought pain to an already raw wound Veronica took a sip from her mug as she rose from her chair, ready for the long day ahead. She couldn't help but try to capture even a single glance from Demora, but orbiting over the Arctic during the Polar Nights meant there was no light to see Demora. Despite knowing that all the humans had died and the planet was in ruins, Veronica couldn’t help feeling that there was still life on the planet. Veronica sighed as she walked over to the main console of the shuttle, preparing herself for another silent day of hard work and revenge planning
Veronica stood underneath the hatch of Space Shuttle Erroneous, dreading the next few hours of her life. As the main console had callously reminded her before she had her morning coffee, today was the 13th of the month. Tether Day. The day when Veronica would tether herself to Erroneous and add homemade adjustments to the shuttle, praying she would have enough oxygen to complete her work while also not flying out into the void of space
by Eloise. J. Coldwell
Despite her six months doing this exact task, Veronica’s nerves never calmed. She did a triple-check that her oxygen was correctly hooked up and that she had all the tools necessary to complete the adjustments. Why did I decide to become an astronaut with a crippling fear of heights? She pondered as she quickly opened the hatch, hoping the quick action would prevent her from stalling any longer Veronica was quickly greeted with the indescribable cold that only came from space She quickly crawled out of the hatch and closed it shut behind her, reassuring herself that she would be perfectly safe Veronica spent a few hours going around the ship installing different lenses and holding compartments, adrenaline pumping through her veins throughout all her work She did her best to ignore the watch on her wrist as she told herself she would only be out there a little longer, but the ticking just echoed in the video of space
Once she finished, Veronica returned to the hatch as fast as possible and scrambled back inside. She saw her oxygen levels were getting incredibly low, meaning it was to be added into the empty canister pile. Space Shuttle Erroneous operated with a CO2 converter onboard, which meant she had a limitless supply of oxygen inside the ship. However, this did not apply to the canisters that allowed her to venture outside of the ship to aid in the vehicle of her revenge, or as Veronica had recently dubbed it, Project Humanity.
By her count, she only had five left, which meant that any damage taken on the outside of the ship couldn’t get fixed. “Well,” Veronica said aloud. She had gotten into the habit of talking to herself in an attempt to fill the never-ending silence. The main console used to speak as her virtual assistant, but Veronica hated it She felt as if it was mocking her, reminding her that it was the only thing she had left to talk to “I suppose everyone has to make sacrifices, especially if it means taking out those parasitical monsters ” as she said this, Veronica could hear the venom dripping from her voice Still feeling the adrenaline buzzing through her body, she poured herself another cup of coffee and went back to the silent console
…
Buzz! Buzz! Echoed through the silence of the space shuttle. Veronica groaned as she turned her alarm off, wondering why she brought that of all things from Demora. Still groggy, she sat up in bed and crossed another day off her calendar She had been on Space Shuttle Erroneous for a little over a year, but it felt more like 100 years Veronica just stared at the calendar for a moment, looking at the stunning field of marigold and aspen flowers that covered the top page. The field was a mix of reds, golds, and brass-colored flowers mixing under the beauty of a sunny day. Veronica tried to look away, but she just felt fury and pain fill in her chest. All she saw was what was stolen from her by the virus from the very moment of her birth.
The virus had ravaged Demora since Veronica was born It struck without warning and left the victim weak and writhing in pain from a horrible greyish-blue rash that covered the body. Once contracted, victims only had a few days before succumbing to the disease. The virus didn’t even have a name as scientists and doctors desperately looked for a cure for a virus that just kept mutating with no known origin. Millions died within months as the world was left with a sick and dying planet. Veronica remembered watching her parents scramble to protect themselves and their daughter from something that they couldn’t control Her whole life was a constant state of fear from contamination and anger at the lives lost
She was one of the few left in her generation thanks to her parent’s overprotectiveness, which also came with the cost of her childhood. When she went to school to become an astronaut, after only a week there she learned of her parents' passing. She mourned, but death had become such a constant in her life that it was almost to be expected. Only a few weeks later, she received news that her crew would be going on their first space expedition on the space shuttle Erroneous This accomplishment was overshadowed when her entire crew contracted the virus When her superiors realized that she hadn’t contracted the disease, they quickly sent her alone on the shuttle with the instructions to develop the cure while the few 100 people left on Demora hid. It had taken her a month to reach space because of all of Demora’s pollution, and by then it was too late.
Veronica saw all these memories flash in her mind as her gaze remained on the calendar All she had ever known was toxic air, barren fields, and a rampant disease that prevented her from truly living her life. All these feelings came flooding to her as she sat in bed, knowing she was powerless to change anything. She ripped the calendar off the wall and poured every hurt and angry emotion into it as she crushed the paper in her hands. With tears pricking in the corners of her eyes, she threw it onto the floor. Everything went still for a moment as she stared at the ruined calendar
Veronica rubbed her eyes as she slowly got out of bed She took a deep breath as she walked out to the kitchen, preparing herself a much-needed cup of delicious coffee. After she put the kettle on the stove, she sat at the center console. She got a notification that the Polar Nights would be coming to an end tomorrow. Veronica ignored it to look at the progress of Project Humanity.
Project Humanity is now fully operational Please insert the antidote and allow the rocket a day to charge before launching to D
Veronica just sat in her chair, rereading the message. The kettle began boiling and Veronica could hear water spilling out of it, but it sounded distant. Her mind was struggling to wrap around the reality that was presented in front of her “Project Humanity is going to happen ” She said quietly to herself The project that had silently kept her going for more than a year was about to be completed. “Project Humanity is going to happen!” She shouted to herself as she jumped out of her seat. “I did it!” She said, competing with the still boiling kettle. Veronica suddenly realized that it was still boiling over and ran to take it off the stove. She tried to pour her cup, but her hand was shaking. Veronica realized that she was never sure Project Humanity would succeed She was an astronaut, not an engineer
After she collected herself and got herself an especially piping hot cup of coffee, Veronica went back to the main console and went to look at the file for Project Humanity and see what needed to be done to launch the rocket. She was so excited that she accidentally typed in Project Humantih. Veronica rolled her eyes at the egregious spelling mistake but was shocked to see a second file appear next to Project Humanity named Project Humanith. Veronica had never heard of this project, and curiosity got the best of her as she opened the file
The room started spinning as Veronica read the document for a second time, trying to find some form of evidence that what she was reading was fake. The file detailed how the government had made the Demora virus, as they had dubbed it, a biological weapon to use against their enemies, but they made it too powerful. It also detailed the destruction of the planet and that despite them having the cure, it would prove useless as the planet was going to die in a few years They spoke of how they sent a healthy astronaut with the antidote into space to destroy the virus so they could save themselves
Veronica just stared glassy-eyed at the screen, feeling her whole world crumble around her. All those months hating the virus that destroyed everything, that mutated beyond repair, when it was those she trusted who were responsible. She thought of the calendar still crumpled on her floor, the feelings she thought would disappear after she completed Project Humanity. Veronica didn’t know what to do as she slowly took a sip from her coffee
Veronica stood up, coffee in hand, and returned to her bed She sat with her coffee staring at the calendar. She heard thousands of voices in her mind as she tried to decide what she would do. She had the antidote and could shoot it to Demora, which would be powerful enough to destroy the entire virus. She could also continue the virus live on Demora, allowing the horrors humanity did to the planet live on.
Veronica hadn’t slept, being plagued by horrible nightmares of the planet, the virus, and her superiors. She stayed awake, thinking of what she should do, feeling the full weight of the decision on her shoulders. At four in the morning, Veronica gave up on sleep and made her decision. Even if the origins of the virus were human, she needed to destroy it for the lives it took. Despite her heroic and vengeful sounding motive, Veronica knew that deep down she was doing it as a way to funnel out her scattered emotions She put her suit on as she lifted her last oxygen canister onto her back Antidote in hand, she took a deep breath as she opened the hatch.
…
The antidote was loaded into the rocket and Veronica just floated in space, staring at the dark circle that she once called her home A year's worth of work satisfied by the press of a button that she held firm in her hand She had double-checked that everything was in place and had the console confirm that everything was ready to go, but she still hesitated. Veronica felt the report of Project Humanith floating through her brain, her stomach twisting into knots. Just press it fast without thinking, just like how I open the hatch. She thought to herself as she held her thumb over the button.
Veronica was suddenly blinded by a beam of light She engaged her sun protection on her helmet as she looked around her She forgot about the notification that the Polar Nights were ending today. She looked down at Demora, now seeing the surface of the planet after many months. “Wait,” Veronica said to herself, looking at Demora with confusion. She had barely been able to see the surface of the planet, now the atmosphere looked less dull and she could see the surface. Veronica pulled herself to the telescope attached to the rocket for a closer look at the planet
There were no words to describe what Veronica saw through the telescope She watched with her jaw hanging open as a family with greyish-blue skin was playing on Demora. She checked the lenses of her telescope for some sign of disturbance or smudge, but there was nothing wrong with the lens. She looked again as she saw a mother and father playing with their two young children, but they weren’t human. Veronica recognized the color of their skin as the color of the rash from the virus
“No human survived the virus and it couldn’t survive inside a dead host ” Veronica said to herself, trying to explain what she was seeing. Suddenly it dawned on her. “Within a year, the virus mutated into sentient life.” The idea was absurd, no virus was not that powerful, but here it was right in front of her. This, however, was no normal virus. It was biologically engineered to be strong and mutate, maybe even enough to become sentient. She used her telescope to look around the rest of the world and was shocked The virus had not only come to life, but it has adapted to live on the dying planet
Just from watching them for a few moments, Veronica could see how they could survive on the planet. They took the polluted air into their lungs and expelled clean oxygen, ate the trash that polluted the oceans, and were able to use the tools left for them to fertilize the Demora. Veronica watched them work together, play, and learn while she held the button in her hand. She pulled her eyes from this discovery and looked down at the button in her trembling hand Her decision wasn’t eradicating a mindless virus anymore, but an entire species that was thriving on Demora.
Veronica stared at the planet and watched the Sun slowly rise over the horizon. Could she destroy this species that was now bringing life to a dying planet? Did it matter that they, or their ancestors, were responsible for the fall of humanity? Or was humanity to blame for everything that happened? These questions swirled through Veronica’s mind as she felt the warmth of the Sun through her suit She saw an alert on her helmet that raised an alarm in Veronica’s mind Warning. Oxygen levels are l Shuttle Erroneous before
this canister empties.
Veronica looked back to the rising Sun and the planet, her planet, slowly spinning below her. Why should I go back? She asked herself Besides her delicious cups of coffee, nothing was waiting for her in the space shuttle Was she content in living out the rest of her days alone in a space shuttle, stuck with only confused feelings and the lives of a new species to accompany her? Button still in hand, Veronica made her decision. She felt the canister empty as she shrugged it off her shoulders. She floated in the silence as she took in the gorgeous view of the sunrise over Demora. As she felt herself slipping from consciousness, Veronica remembered the button in her hand She knew what she had to do
Painting in the Skies
by The Masked Marshmallow
My earliest memories were not of my mother or father but of the sky.
I don’t know how and I don't know why but the sky always called me day and night When I was a baby I remember painting the sky.
At the time, I felt so free and light, like a bird soaring through the night.
I remember how I was once an angel, how we used to laugh and sing while painting the sky, giggling with glee. We made so many mistakes trying to get the colors right, it never seemed to work but, at least we tried.
In the early morning, we painted it orange and yellow.
Photo by Gabi Lu
In the late evenings, we use an array of pink and purple.
At night we used glitter, to make the stars shimmer
One day as I was painting away. I decided to look down instead of at the sky that day.
On the ground, I saw a peculiar sight. There were two adults and one child
But the adults were hugging the child and giving him sweets.
I was so confused because I'd never seen that before.
All I ever saw was the beautiful sky.
So I went to God and asked him some questions as he spoke he sounded pleasant
God: what you see is a family.
He saw my confusion so he elaborated for me.
God: a family is like a home that you are always welcome to be, but do not worry my angel go back to the sky and continue painting.
So I did as he said I went back to the sky, but I could not stop thinking.
That I wish I had a family like him for me.
I want a family like all the people down there who look as happy as could be.
As God spoke he let out a sigh
God: Angel I will grant you what you wish but just so you know there will be a price to pay for my gift.
Not letting him finish the angel exclaimed
Angel: I will do anything, please just give me my own family
God: as you wish
With a wave of his hand, the angel went down. Father from the sky and to the ground he fell.
As the angel arrived he got his wish, a family of three all to himself
As the little angel grew he stopped looking at the sky, forgetting how, forgetting why.
What the angel did not know was what God tried to say before he left.
God: My angel you did not heed my warning For as I said there is a price to my gift The price is your memory for you will forget everything you have seen up here. God sighed and walked away whispering his last words in dismay to the clouds that hung sadly that day.
I wish I had a mom that would give me sweet treats and I wish I had a dad that would give me all the love I would need
The sky was great but the sky did not give me warm hugs or sweet treats. All I wanted was a family that I could keep.
So I went to God and I went on my knees and begged him for a family of three
Of one mom and one dad just for me.
God spoke with a sigh and said, My angel, why do you wish for these? The sky is endless and you’re full of glee.
I spoke with anger, which was unlike me
Angel: I said I don’t want the sky anymore!
God: for that is what happens when dreams meet reality
On the cool earth, a man stopped on the street.
He decided to look up on that day instead of down at his feet
As he saw a marvelous site behold him as the sky in all of its colors took hold of him
At that moment it seemed to become brighter for as we all know Heaven will always remember one of its painters.
Photo by Gabi Lu
Creation Myth: Water
by Jameson McMechan
Photo by Gabi Lu
There once was an otter that lived on the land. A small creature with a thin brown fur coat and dark beady eyes. The otter in question lived on a small brush, always hot. The bright sun was always beating down upon him, the canopy of the trees providing little shade for the small creature of the woods Days and days went by as the otter lived in the brush, his brown coat of fur burning hot. Heat, sun, humidity. The days of summer passed by in heaps of sweat for the other creatures as well.
On another one of those humid days, a bright, blinding light surrounded the woodland creature, who tried to shield his eyes with his small paw. “Small creature, why hide in the bush when it is nice and sunny out?” An angelic voice spoke to him, and after the light had dimmed down, a woman stood directly in front of him
The woman was pale, with silky white green hair, and a flowing dress consisting of greens and yellows, and whites, all in different shades, hues, and variations.
The creature looked up, its small black eyes looking directly into the pale woman’s vibrant green eyes, as he spoke, “Being in this brush is the only way to stay cool, the sun beats down upon me every day, it is always hot in these woods, even at night, when the sun is at rest and the moon is doing its job by lighting the night
The creature looked up at the woman again, this time, his eyes pleading for assistance. The woman, knowing the look in the eye of the tiny woodland otter, knew exactly what to do. “If you agree to live here forever, in these parts, I will agree to help you. As I am Mother Earth, and the land listens and bows down before me.” The otter nodded feverishly. “I will do what you ask, just save these lands and my home ”
The woman nodded, gently placing her hand upon a muddy surface Unlike other, her hand was not tainted by the dirt and grime. Her pale remained a light color, and it was as if her hand wasn’t even touching the ground. The otter could see her concentration, her eyes closed, her expression focused. And then, Water, cold blue water, formed around her hand, slowly flowing around her fingers. The water grew and grew until a river was formed in the now river bed
“There my friend, I have helped you, as I have gifted you the creation of water, and now, you must go into the river, and live there for the rest of your days.” The otter dove into the water, the fresh liquid enveloping him, and an audible sigh escaped his lips. This was the first time in many ages that the otter wasn’t hot, or hiding in the brush to escape from the bright sun. The woman had made water for him, crisp, cool, blue water for him, and he knew he would survive now It was a welcome trade for the hot, humid, musky air he’d been living through since he was a small pup
The otter desperately wanted to thank the women who had made this possible, but when he swam to find her, it was as if she had vanished, no footprints had been left on the grass filled terrain, as if she wasn’t even there, like she didn’t exist. The only way to know she was there was when the rain started. The otter looked up at the newly formed rain clouds, and knew she existed, as the cloud was in the shape of a woman, and the other cloud, an otter
From the sweltering days of August to the warm days of May,
The dissmissal bell makes a sweet sound on the last day
Hour after hour, scrolling on our Ipad and notebooks in hand,
Stuck in our classrooms like seashells stuck in the sand. Swarms of students fly down the stairs, Like seagulls searching for food near the piers
The halls are empty and no one is sitting in the chairs, Passing grades and memories are collected as souvenirs.
Summer
Studying for quizzes and tests gave us irritability, But these upcoming days will fill us with tranquility
Vacation
Is
All fears, anxieties, and troubles will disappear
Now that summer vacation is finally here.
Finally
We return to our warm childhood in the sun’s golden rays , A nostalgic time when living did not feel like navigating a maze. Just like the birds we can soar high, Not weighed down by society's expectations or lies
Here
We face the pressure to excel in every subject
We face the pressure to be the best at every sport. In this world, we were not born to be perfect,
But to give each other support
Ditch the flat iron and do not wear makeup.
Sleep late and wait until 10 AM to wake up . Stay up at night playing video games, Or stare at the campfire’s blazing flames
Summer is here, and make sure to enjoy your youth
Adolescence is short and that’s the truth.
Petal Poetry Series by Sofia Marroig
h e U n i f o r m
TFaded cotton and polyester of blue, Another completed chapter is behind you. As you put on your sneakers, you stare at each crease and line, Only to think of the passage of time
Freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior, You see these past years clearer and clearer. You once walked these concrete halls with eager curiosity, And found solace in a sweet smile that is now a memory.
Before you go to college, Make sure to acknowledge, All of the coaches and teachers that gave you knowledge b y S a r i n a H a n d e l
In class, friends were made At mass, intentions were prayed. Each dark and smudged stain on your jersey Reminds you of the muddy field where you won that trophy.
You let go of all the fears that formerly dwelled in your head, Just like your frayed sweatshirt leaves behind a loose thread For the very last time you walk the halls, And pass these classrooms where you grew from short to tall.
As you hold your diploma adorned with a ribbon and seal You stare at your smiling friends and family and can’t help but feel Triumphant but melancholic all because of the passage of time “This is my moment now”, you think, “This moment is mine.”
Cby
Kalayna Dering
onversation with Nature onversation with Nature
Nature cannot hide you from me
I hear your voice in the whispers of the trees.
The craters of the moon draw a sketch of your face.
I feel your emotions through the harsh tide of the waves
Brown leaves on the ground, I only see your eyes.
The wind is howling your sad goodbyes.
The dirt catching onto me is a mere kiss of your lips
I cannot escape your existence
The distance we have is intangible. Yet your presence is more than visible.
I have hallucinations of communication with you, Please tell me if you hear my voice too.
I know I can be with you again. So I plunge myself into the Earth, To once again, be your lover.
Starburst by Hayden Loft
