Blue 2015-16 by TIS BLUE

blue

The Independent School Middle School 2015-16

Front Cover: Reach for the Sky by Sensey Cadman (8)

Above: We are All Loved by Fall BLUE Lit Mag Students

BLUE Literary Magazine The Independent Middle School 8333 E. Douglas Ave Wichita, Kansas 67207

blue

Table of Contents & Staff Reach for the Sky by Sensey Cadman….....Front Cover We are All Loved by Fall BLUE Lit Mag Students......1 Lost Wishes by Katy Dickinson....................................5 Juxtaposition by Deena Eichhorn….......…………….5 For All the Times We’ve Shared by Kristina Young….5 Blue Eyed by Malina Wagner……………..............….6 The Raindrop by Jennifer Brosius……….....………...6 The Ugly Snail by Emma Lowrance............................6 North East Mic by Owen Cecil....................................7 No More Ants by Sensey Cadman……...............…….7 Can I? by Megan Skinner………………..............…..7 Fractured Sapphire by Gene Campini……......……...8 Permission and Punishment by Callie Hinson……….8 Aquaman by Vijay Muthukumar…….........………….9 Time After Time by Masha Yakubovich……...……….9 Autumn Leaves by Gracie Dedo……………….........10 Shade by Deena Eichhorn……………......................11 My Eye by Owen Cecil…………..........................….11 Spring Fever by Hanna Scheck …..............………...11 The Mysterious Fiddler by Kathryn Sharp………….12 Revenge by Edward Sturm….......................………..12 Prey by Caroline Jiang…….................................…..12 The Hole in My Favorite Cashmere Sweater Reminds Me of You by Maddie Rowley.....................................................13 Turn Up by Edward Sturm…..........................……...13 Ants Eye View by Edward Sturm….................……...14 Need to Go by Maddie Rowley………......................14 The Alcoholic by Sophie Solomon.............................14 Z56 by Owen Cecil……….........................................15 A Sight by Kortney Rowe…........................………...15 Lost Friend by Jay Schwabe......................................16 Digging Deep by Maddie Rowley……................…..16 Last Days by Ryleigh Vance………………........…...16 Jay the Fox by Miles Martin………………..............16 Message in a Bottle by Grace Martin……......……...17 Sully by Jillian Capps………………….....................17 Asher by Graham Burmeister…………................….17 Bright by Owen Cecil………………….....................18 My Delicate Fighter by Johanna Yang……..……….18 Live by Johanna Yang………………….....................19 Spring Beauty by Anna Bailly………..........………..19 Roll the Window Down by Hanna Scheck………......20 Ruby Red by Caitlyn Richmond………...…………..20 Clouds by Veronica Burdette……………....………..20 Three Birch Trees by Eva Norum…………...…...….20 Object May Appear Smaller by Kristen Devlin.........20 Broccoli Rabe by Judah Hansen……..……………...20 Time and Place by Peyton Farber……………..........20 Goals by Natalie Johnson…………….......................20 Two Questions by Masha Yakubovich………...…….21 Purpose by Janna Wagner……………………..........21 The Luscious Lily by Kylie Mitchell………..............21 A Quiet Friend by Malina Wagner…………...……..22 Jane by Edward Sturm……………...........................23

Six Pack by Sensey Cadman…………….......……...23 Heartbeat by Matthew Janssen……………...……...23 Stop by Sophie Solomon…………......................…..24 Drops of Water by Kristen Devlin….……………….24 Hidden by Claire Sturm……......................................25 Wings by C.J. Stancin…………...…………………..25 Tracks by Natalie Johnson…………….......………...25 The World in Crying by Alex Kirsten-Westgard...….25 Empty and Empty? by Owen Cecile…………..…….26 Cold Treat by Mia Agpoon…………………….........26 Fire Alert by Judah Hansen……………………........26 Beneath the Waves by Peyton Farber……………….27 You’re Welcome by Malina Wagner………………...27 Porcelain Friend by Anna Bailly…………….……...28 Lost by Maddie Rowley………....…………….........28 Crossing Lanes by Sensey Cadman……………..….28 Just Because by Owen Cecil……………………......29 Books by Luke Novak………………........................29 Simplicity by Emma Lowrance…………….......…...30 Last Breaths by Laeh Dean……………...............….30 Gypsies, Man by Sensey Cadman……….........…….30 Spring Breeze by Edward Sturm……………...…….31 Hunger by Peter Daood……………………..............31 Dear Food Editor by Caitlyn Richmond…………...32 Void by Owen Cecil……….......................………….32 Odd Man Out by Mimi Recalde-Phillips…………..32 Branson by Malina Wagner………………................32 Misty Woods by Natalie Johnson……………...…….32 Yellow Sting by Gracie Dedo………………………..33 Ethan by Johanna Yang………………………..........33 Little Girl by Katy Dickinson.....................................33 Birthday Boy by Edward Sturm………………...…..34 I am Poem by Hannah Hecox……………….......…..34 Bench Life by Katy Dickinson………………….......34 Command by Maddie Rowley…………………...….35 Hot Wings by Garret Jensen…………………….......35 Forest Waves by Caroline Dedo.........……………....36 Feathers by Callie Hinson…...........……..................36 Papa Buz by Sophie Solomon……………….......….36 Cold Winter by Janna Wagner…………...…........….37 Kaleidoscope One by Johanna Yang………….....….37 Kaleidoscope Two by Graham Burmeister………….37 Swimming into Oblivion by Ari Villapando………...38 I am Poem by Judah Hansen………………...……...38 Walking Alone by Natalie Johnson…………........….39 Beaten Path by Malina Wagner………………..........39 Little Miss Perfect by Ava Kliewer……......………..39 The Sanctuary by Ryan Mahoney……………...…...40 Four Quarters by Gracie Dedo…………………......40 Foolish by Nitai Dasa…………………….................41 Castle on the Hill by Sensey Cadman………….…...41 My Dearest by Garret Jensen……….......…………..41 Echoes and Doubts by Miles Martin…………...…...42 Wide Eyes by Owen Cecil………................…..........42 Home by Jillian Capps…………………....................43

Happy Endings by Mimi Recalde-Phillips……….....44 Happily Ever After by Sophie Solomon…………….44 Fake Plant by Arianna Hinson…………………..….44 Grandma Linda by Julia Douglas……………….…..45 Altered Selfie by Natalie Johnson………..………….45 Thanks, Grandpa by Marin McCausland...................45 Broken City by Malina Wagner………………..........46 I Open at the Close by Linnea Kirsten-Westgard…...46 I am Poem by Garret Jensen………………....……...47 You are Insane by Sophie Solomon……………...….48 Shots Fired by Ryan Mahoney……………..........….48 Altered Selfie by Kristina Young………….....……...49 Altered Selfie by Callie Hinson……………........…..49 Altered Selfie by Edward Sturm…………….......…..49 Altered Selfie by Peyton Farber……………........…..49 Chocolate, Please! By Judah Hansen………...…….50 The Child by Natalie Johnson…………………........50 Blue Flowers by Gracie Dedo…………………........50 Clockwork Man by Judah Hansen……………..........51 Misery by Mimi Recalde-Phillips………...………...51 Him by Hannah Hecox…………………............…...51 I am Poem by Julia Douglas……………….........…..52 Nana by Kristen Devlin…………………..................52 Afterlife by Sophie Solomon………….............…….52 Nighttime by Masha Yakubovich……………….…..53 Passage to Light by Eleena Amirani………………..53 Hello, Mama by Caroline Jiang…………………….53 Grell by Gracie Dedo…………….............................53 See You Later by Malina Wagner…..........………….54 Still Laughing by Sensey Cadman and Maddie Rowley....................................................54 Be Prepared by Judah Hansen………………….......54 Popping Out of Reality by Kylie Mitchell…….........55 Interested by Johanna Yang…………..................…..56 421 by Julia Fetters………………............................56 Broken by Andrew Skinner…………...................….56 Deep Death by Uday Kabirpanthi……….............….56 The True World by Graham Burmeister………...…..56 They are Us by Anna Bailly.......................................56 Crystal Blue by Petyon Farber...................................56 Mirrored Lake by Masha Yakubovich…………........57 Impressionism by Kylie Mitchell, JoAnna Pistotnik, Kortney Rowe, Hanna Scheck, Malina Wagner, and Caroline Jiang………………...57 Altered Self by JoAnna Pistotnik………………........58 Cyclops by Kirkland McCormick…………..............58 Line of Fire by Kortney Rowe...................................58 Family of Eight by Julia Douglas…………………...58 The Flood by Grace Martin and Caitlyn Richmond..59 Crossroads by Judah Hansen……….......…………..66 Forgotten Doom by Judah Hansen……....………….67 Write the Rights by Johanna Yang……………....…..67 He was Different by Sophie Solomon……………....68 Unclear Sky by Owen Cecil………………...............69 The Journey by Brandon Cope………………….......69 Wilted Face by Arianna Hinson……….....................69 Hypnosis by Maddie Rowley……………….............70 Aquatic Suburb by Judah Hansen……………….….70

Hope by Eleena Amirani…………………................71 Too Soon for Goodbye by Sensey Cadman………....71 The Words Sound Nicer This Way by Sophie Solomon....................................................71 Road Map to the Sky by Hanna Scheck………….....72 Spirit by Kirkland McCormick..................................72 Damage by Lilly Willis…………..............................72 They are Coming by Miles Martin……….......……..73 The World is Crooked by Owen Cecil…………...….73 Weak to the Land by Janna Wagner……………........73 Yeah, Maybe by Maddie Rowley and Sensey Cadman...................................................73 New Days by Ari Villapando…………...............…...74 Art is Good by Natalie Johnson……………..............74 Closed with an Open Mind by Katy Dickinson..........74 Morning Grounds by Kylie Mitchell…………..........74 A Pledge by Kirkland McCormick………….............75 Life’s Final Game by Kristina Young…………....….75 Just End It by Bryson Toubassi…………………......75 The Shape of Things by Kylie Mitchell…………......75 The Bedroom Killer by Graham Burmeister…….….76 I Can’t Sum This Up in a Few Words by Sophie Solomon....................................................76 Bad Breath by Johanna Yang…………......………...77 Just Because by Johanna Yang…………............…...77 Support for Life by Peyton Farber (6), Garrett Jensen (6), Megan Skinner (6), Edward Sturm (8), JoAnna Pistotnik (7), and Ben Muehling (8) ............................................78 Golden Hour by Anna Bailly…....................……….78 Falling Leaves by the River by Cyan Rose.............78 Marco by Nitai Dasa………………….................….80

BLUE Literary Magazine Staff Mia Agpoon, Graham Burmeister, Sensey Cadman, Owen Cecil, Liam Conlee, Nitai Dasa, Laeh Dean, Megan Dublynn, Payton Farber, Josh Holloway, Hannah Hecox, Callie Hinson, Marin McCausland, Luke Novak, JoAnna Pistotnik, Mimi RecaldePhillips, Maddie Rowley, Marco Rudy, Kathryn Sharp, Bryson Toubassi, Janna Wagner, Masha Yakubovich, Johanna Yang, and Kristina Young Adviser: Mrs. Debra Cole Student Editors: Sophie Solomon Edward Sturm Malina Wagner

Lost Wishes by Katy Dickinson (6) They straightened my jacket, as I screamed and kicked. The needle tip pierced my skin, and I fell to the floor a bottomless pit that is my mind. I fall into a wishing well. I swim in broken promises.

For All the Times Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve Shared by Kristina Young (8) This poem is for you, Grandma Young For your breathtaking cooking that you would always give me, For your love of animals that you shared with me, For your ability to love me despite all my faults. This poem is for you, Grandma Young Because you gave me your time when you had none, Because you always made the effort to see what was wrong, Because you sought to continue although life was never perfect. I love the way you... Bake cookies with me every holiday season Talk to me when I am fighting to get through my depression Help me in the times when I truly need it. I hope that you will.... Continue to tell the stories of your life, Plant the flowers in the garden you love so much, Stay with me through every surprise I throw at you. This poem is for you, Grandma Young

Juxtaposition by Deena Eichhorn

The Ugly Snail by Emma Lowrance (8)

The Raindrop by Jennifer Brosius (6) As the night falls, and I awaken, I see a joyful daily sight. I have a dream - to fly - to wish. My dream might come true. When that happens, I will finally see the others like me. But the only way you will truly be able to see me is through a telescope. As the night grows darker, my dreams return. This time, I dream of falling so that someone can make a wish. Suddenly, I fly across the night sky. My dream is becoming reality.

Blue Eyed by Malina Wagner (8)

North East Mic by Owen Cecil (6)

Can I? by Megan Skinner (6) Can I ever go somewhere? Can I ever be anything? I need to know. Can something so small, like me, be something? The world around me is so big. I feel so tiny. I know I will grow, so so high. But for now, I am me. Can I really be something?

No More Ants by Sensey Cadman (8)

Fractured Sapphire by Gene Campini

Permission and Punishment by Callie Hinson (8)

She dismissed the one who impressed me, with countless repetitions of what my fatigue overpowered. The promise of intelligence within devotion became restlessness, and blame. Which fight intended to avert the absorbed song of permission and punishment? Death is shocking, so advised by attentions and understood signs of something free and interesting.

Aquaman by Vijay Muthukumar My rocket shoes propelled me through the water. I reached the cave and ripped away the giant coral blocking it. A shoal of sharks swam out of the cave. “Mission accomplished,” I said through my walkie-talkie, as I shot through the water to the submarine. The door opened and I stepped in. I walked to my cabin. Well, it wasn’t really a cabin. It was a giant room with a dome ceiling and a giant desk with a computer with a giant screen and a bunch of other stuff. I sat down and stared at my computer. Screensavers floated before my eyes. One images was me riding a dolphin while a giant ship exploded. I drifted back to the memory. I was swimming through a coral reef when large amounts oil fell on top of me. I looked up. A giant ship was sailing above, oil was dripping down from it. A Lays Potato Chips bag fell on to my head. I decided to follow the boat. As I grabbed the side of the boat, suckers popped out of my hands and feet and stuck onto the ship. As I crawled closer to the deck, I heard a group of voices. I crawled even closer to the deck. “Are you sure we’ll go faster if we dump some of the oil off this tanker?” asked a squeaky voice. “Yes,” said a hoarse voice. “Who cares about the ocean?!” “What about the officials?” a big deep voice asked. “They’ll never catch us!” sneered the hoarse voice. By then, I was steaming. Who did they think they were? I sent a signal to the submarine. Then, I turned into the wind and flew into the engine room. I jammed the engine and laid a trap for the crew. When they came down, a crew member stumbled onto the trip-wire. As they were blinded from the bright light, I threw heavy metal net on them and tied them up. When I turned off the light, I realized the captain wasn’t in the net. Then, a voice said over the intercom, “Self destruct in 10, 9, 8 ,7.” I summoned a forcefield. “3,2,1.” BOOM! The ship exploded, the metal and wood bouncing off of my forcefield, the air filling with smoke and fire. After all the wreckage sunk into the sea, I released my forcefield. As I swam to the nearby submarine, I saw an orange motorboat zooming off into the distance. I summoned a giant water fist, grabbed the boat, and swung it towards the submarine. A hatch opened up and the captain of the oil tanker tumbled into submarine. “Take him captive,” I ordered. The captain was dragged into the “dungeons”. I smashed the motor boat and broke it into tiny pieces, so that it wouldn’t trap any fish. An excited voice said, “I got a picture of the ship exploding!” “Ok,” I replied. I drifted out of my memory. I smelled something good. Something that was probably for dinner. I walked out of my room, ready to devour my food.

Time After Time by Masha Yakubovich

Autumn Leaves by Gracie Dedo (7)

Dear World: Only boys play with legos, right? Barbies are only allowed to be used by girls,

correct? Toys for girls are pink and purple while toys for boys are blue and green. Girls don’t need engineering or science toys, because those are not professions women choose to pursue. The only toys young girls need are ones having to do with the house or kitchen, because that is all they could possibly do with their lives, unlike the men who will never have to lift a finger. Most people would agree to some extent with the first few claims, as they continue to read however, most will label this absurd. The problem is it’s not just the last couple sentences that are unrealistic, all of these statements are intertwined. We live in a world where toys are gender specific, based on stereotypes and societal norms, entrapped by the fine lines and closed doors of our minds. Children’s toys should not be gender specific. What is the first image that pops into a person’s head when I say the word doctor? Lawyer? Engineer? What about nurse? Secretary? Many are not aware that over 33% of doctors are women and over 10% of nurses are men? If all doctors toys are geared toward boys, girls will feel that they cannot become doctors because it’s a “boy thing”.Toys often represent the most simplified stereotype with no margins for change or imagination. The marketing of toys tells girls that a woman's place is in the house and a man’s is at work. This goes back to the very things women have been fighting for since the 1800’s. How is society supposed to change when toy companies are promoting the very thing women have been fighting to change for over a century.

Shade by Deena Eichhorn (8)

The reason we know how to do many of the tasks in our daily lives is that we have learned from observation. Toys are supposed to be items that encourage imagination. When the very thing that is supposed be encouraging imagination is instead stifling it, there is a problem. Gender norms are something that is learned, not hereditary. A baby girl does not know that pink is her favorite color until she grows up and realizes that that is the color of all her possessions. A baby boy does not know that he cannot enjoy playing with dolls until he realizes that all of his toys involve building or violence. It doesn’t seem like such a big deal but when children are taught from the moment they are born that even dreams have limits, it’s hard to imagine something that has never been seen. A three year old boy sees his sister’s dollhouse. He abandons his lego set to go play with the dolls. His parents look over and quickly tell him that those toys are for girls. He goes back to his lego set but continues to play with the dolls behind his parents’ backs. Now the boy is 5. He goes to his friend’s house for a playdate. The friend´s mom finds him and her son playing with dolls and immediately tells the boy’s mom that she doesn’t want him around her son anymore. His mom tries to tell her it’s just a phase but she is worried that her five year old son liking dolls will “turn” him gay. There is a problem with society when toys are labeled and specified to the point that parents won’t let their kids buy toys specified for the other gender. Children's’ creativity and imagination should not be limited by a label on a box.

My Eye by Owen Cecil (6)

The reason I am writing this letter is not just to complain about gendered toys, but to tell you that there is something we can do. We can stop looking at the label. We can start letting kids play with what they want and let imagination work the way they should without the intervention of concerned parents. We can tell companies to stop producing toys with certain colors even after taking off the gender specific labels. Most importantly, we can stop letting corporations dictate and interfere with some of the most important qualities of young children’s brains; open-mindedness and imagination. Sincerely, Deena Eichhorn (8)

Spring Fever by Hanna Scheck (7)

The Mysterious Fiddler by Kathryn Sharp (8) The lady, led by the girls, went quickly to the dimly lit compartment after a long supper. She had promised her pupil a childhood with no discontent. That night the puny, but honorable fiddler shared an abstract song. The lady believed the silence appeared frightful.

Revenge by Edward Sturm (8)

I hurried away from her. I was tired of her furious torrents. I entertained her wayward nature for sometime. My preference was her punishment be as ugly as the incapacity I suffered.

Prey by Caroline Jiang (7)

The Hole in My Favorite Cashmere Sweater Reminds Me of You by Maddie Rowley (8) Home is defined as the place in which one's domestic affections are centered. I have two of these. The first time I went I was all alone, but I made friends and it became a lasting memory. The second time, I had friends, I had memories and I had expectations. This year it was something different. I was returning home. I had friends, I had memories, but I had no expectations because I knew they would be exceeded. Home can be many places. For me, this was camp. Even on my first year I was not worried that I would be homesick or friendless. I was just plain excited to be there. I drove up to the dirt road and felt an overwhelming sense of welcome. I felt like I belonged there. I made lasting friendships; when it was time to leave, I was sad to leave the experience but happy to be with my family once more. I don't think I realized the lasting impact camp would impact me. My second year was great, I had many returning and new friends, and freshly made expectations. However they were quickly surpassed. My second year I had the opportunity to try the things I didn't do the previous year. I realized just how great I could make my camp experience, and how lucky I was to have it in the first place. Not a lot of people have two places they can go to to seek love and belonging. This year I couldn't wait to see my friends. I couldn't wait to start up the old conversations we never finished cozy in our sleeping bags in a tent at midnight. I was so happy to be there; so happy to laugh until it hurt and talk to our counselor about horror movies until 1a.m., then snuggle with her because we were scared. My third year I learned that when you do everything with somebody for a month, it is hard to say goodbye. I learned it is harder that canoeing 18 miles in blistering heat. I learned that it is harder that summiting a 14,000 mountain with the stomach flu. The thing is, you have to leave home at some point. And that’s okay because the last moments leave the memories that mean the most.“ Take me home country roads; to the place I belong Colorado; mountain mama. Take me home country roads” - John Denver, Take Me Home Country Roads.

Turn Up by Edward Sturm (8) Just because I’m a chicken Doesn’t mean I can’t party Doesn’t mean I don’t belong in the house. And doesn’t mean I don’t like sparkly hats Just because I spend hours digging for insects Doesn’t mean I don’t want hor d'oeuvres Doesn’t mean I’m not up for champagne and doesn’t mean I can’t dance Just because I go home to coop Doesn’t mean I don’t celebrate #fedorafriday Doesn’t mean I’m not stylish and doesn’t mean I can’t get the rooster of my dreams Just because I’m a chicken, doesn’t mean I can’t “turn up” Do you think food is all that I am good for? Do you believe the masses? Do you even want to see a chicken partying in a blue fedora? I didn’t think so

Ants Eye View by Edward Sturm (8)

To Possess by Sense Cadman (8) She touched my dead cheek and her bitter cold hands rapidly passed excitement to my eyes. My pupil then imagined desired nature a tranquil skylines. In its silence, main language possessed my echo and all goodness ended. Furbishing, her organ spirits possessed her lungs her pretty force.

The Alcoholic by Sophie Solomon (8) Thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a monster under my bed. I feel it bite and scratch me like the pain in my abdomen and the throb in my head. I hear its painful scream ringing in my ears every time I get up to use the toilet, the bathroom lights blinding me as I step into the empty room.

Need to Go by Maddie Rowley (8) There once was a gold spinning doll. She sang as she spun down the hall. Clutching her bladder, She fell with a shatter. No more was the gold spinning doll.

I smell the rancid backwash of its last meal, spewed about the carpet of my hotel room. I taste it like stale whisky on the back of my tongue. I see it every night in the mirror, staring back at me.

A Sight by Kortney Rowe (8) I left the air in total silence, upon voices. The smooth angelic echo felt tranquil and further afar. A visitor will be moving to you, talking her words not bent nor lovely, but premium. A shocking return I heard was silent and sudden, but your back I suppose will interest her.

Z56 by Owen Cecil (6)

Digging Deep by Maddie Rowley (8) I knew where I fit in, I knew what my place was in the tightly interwoven fabric that was our life. But not our life any more. Every since the killing, the fabric was torn. My place did not exist, and it was turned into our place. Celus didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t take it very well. I could hear him crying at night. Digging deep, I felt for him.

Last Days by Ryleigh Vance (6) I see who a person really is. Right now, I see them young. Right now, I see them old, or maybe they are sleeping. Right now, I remember them. I dream a dream that never came true. Days go by, and I think of that dream. Right now, I start my dream. Easy start, and now I remember. My last days are powerful and beautiful.

Jay the Fox by Miles Martin (8) There once was a fox named Jay. He wandered the woods everyday. No where to be So much to see He always came home for high tea. Lost Friend by Jay Schwabe (8)

Message in a Bottle by Grace Martin (6) “The waves crashed onto the shore throughout the night. With something to keep me warm, I took cover in them until the light. The stick that support the waves the cover me has kept me safe for days on end. When the Sun moved east and the day peaked, I hid knowing that my skin would burn and blister if I did not.” That was the last bit of writing I had to give, for I knew that the only thing that is certain to me anymore was death. I apologize for making you feel this way. Whoever has found this bottle, know that it is too late. The books have aged and the ships have all sailed. Know that the waves still crash upon the shore all through the night, and I have gone to the light.

Sully by Jillian Capps (6)

Asher by Graham Burmeister (7) Just because I’m cute Doesn’t mean that my life belongs to you Doesn’t mean that I can be contained and doesn’t mean that you don’t love me Just because I’m dumb Doesn’t mean that I don’t have feelings Doesn’t mean I can’t learn Doesn’t mean my life depends on being dumb Just because my life has just begun Doesn’t mean I am held to everything Doesn’t mean that this is not normal Doesn’t mean my life is slow Just because my hair is soft... Why do you pet me? Why do you hold me accountable? When will you realize this? I am a soft-coated Wheaton Terrier named Asher.

My Delicate Fighter by Johanna Yang (7) This poem is for you, Grandma For your delicious grilled cheese with the soup I love, but end up getting itchy every time. For your everlasting support and encouragement. For your laugh that is so contagious. This poem is for you, Grandma Because you are so willing to bake cakes with me, even when youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re tired. Because you stay up and watch the Lawrence Welk Show with me. Because you come to all of my Youth Symphony concerts. I love the way you Think of others first Choose your lipsticks so very carefully Let me drive your car in the Koch parking lot I hope that you will Never suffer Enjoy your time Have as much as you deserve This poem is for you, Grandma

Bright by Owen Cecil (6)

Live by Johanna Yang I dare you to get lost. Get lost between pages, between the tired, beautiful words. Wake up in a dream and never ever go back to sleep. Slip off your socks and shoes and take off your coat; You donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t need them while you are away. Travel through the lines, syllables, and letters. Laugh with air. Cry with the rain. Greet each adventure with a smile. Learn to love your personal feelings. Lose everything in all that you seek. Know you are done when you are satisfied with how your story ends. Fly into the next chapter with eagerness. Battle yourself. Contemplate the event in which you lost.

Feel the deep, intense burn when death hits you. Mourn your loses. Celebrate your triumphs. Live. Live like no one will judge you. Live with no regrets. Live like no one is watching. Let go and let God when living is hard. Feel the beauty of what he is creating. God created books. He gave them to you. Get lost in them.

Spring Beauty by Anna Bailly (6)

Roll the Window Down by Hanna Scheck (7)

Objects May Appear Smaller by Kristen Devlin (6)

Rudy Red by Caitlyn Richmond (6)

Broccoli Rabb by Judah Hansen (6)

Clouds by Veronica Burdette (6)

Time and Place by Peyton Farber (6)

3 Birch Trees by Eva Norum (6)

Goals by Natalie Johnson (8)

Two Questions by Masha Yakubovich (7) How did you get there? How did you get out? Two questions I am always asked. Two questions I don’t know how to answer. I get close but never can. No one will ever know. I don’t even know.

Purpose by Janna Wagner (6) My primary purpose was to guard the fence that surrounded our city. “Why? What will it do?” “It will harm you.” “Why?” “It has started. Goodbye, my son” “What? Why?” “Surely you remember.” As I looked over, he passed.

The Luscious Lily by Kylie Mitchell (8)

A Quiet Friend by Malina Wagner (8) He walked slowly by the surf; sand sifting through his toes. He looked out over the water, shinning with the light of the sunset. A boat sailed in the distance, leaving a white trail in the sunlit water. As he walked along, he saw a small girl sitting by the water, a book in her hand. She was staring at the water too. “Where are your parents?” “Where are yours?” The question startled him. He left the question unanswered and sat down next to her, admiring the ocean. “It’s pretty here,” he said, wary of another spiteful response. “Yeah,” she said. He noticed a tear roll down her face. “Are you alright?” he asked. She angrily wiped the tear away. “I’m fine.” They sat in silence, then he said, “I can come back here tomorrow if you’ll be here.” “Yeah, I’d like that,” she replied. They sat further in silence, and a silent agreement was reached. The next day, she was there again, reading her book. And the next...and the next... He came and sat by her everyday. One month...then the next... She never smiled, and he never questioned. Three months passed, and then she wasn’t there. He searched and searched, but she was nowhere to be found. He sat down in their spot where they had sat countless times before. He looked out over the ocean, sparkling with the sunset. He sighed and a single tear rolled down his face and dropped into the waves of the ocean. There on the shore, he sat with his head in his hands. The water slowly began to ripple and lap onto his toes. His head rose slowly, and he looked upon the figure of the young girl. A single tear echoes as it rolled down her cheek. She smiled a wide and beautiful smile. She whispered, “Thank you,” as she disappeared into the surf.

Jane by Edward Sturm (8) The children of the village became rather a nuisance. Our primary goal was eliminating all creativity from the developing minds. We knew from the get-go that thinking outside the box could ruin us adults. Although our system was tight, no one was prepared for a youth like 31062. He began like others, embracing words like plagiarism and censorship, but in time, he changed. 31062 ensured there was no 31063. She was named Jane.

Six Pack by Sensey Cadman (8)

Heartbeat by Matthew Janssen (6) There once was a young boy. He was always ill, so to cheer himself up, he used his imagination. He loved to read before he went to bed each night. He used his sheet as a fort and imagined his fort under the waves of the ocean. His pillows acted as the supports to hold up the waves. His sheets were the waves themselves. The ocean waves crashed on the shore and soothed him. Along with the stars above, his flashlight helps light the room. The boy felt better. He knew his physical health was not excellent. But with his imagination, both his mental and physical health have never been better. Death might come, but her knew he had both a healthy mind as well as an unhealthy mind. He knew that one was better than none. He knew that he needed to live a life worth living. That is what mattered. He no longer cared about his physical health. He loved his imagination and used it endlessly. He spent hours in his room, under those waves, reading in his fort. His final days were spent drawing, reading, and loving every minute. He would do it all again in a heartbeat.

Stop telling me who to be.

Sophie Solomon

(8)

Drops of Water by Kristen Devlin (6) I keep falling and falling. I don’t know where I will land. I never do. As I fall, it seems like time is in slow motion, even though it is going so quickly. I think that this is my last day, but as I think this, I know that it is not true. I always find a way back up. I don’t know why I think that still; It never happens. I try not to give up, even though sometimes I want to. I don’t want to stop.

Hidden by Claire Sturm (6)

Tracks

Wings by C.J. Stancin (7)

by Natalie Johnson (8)

When I was a kid, I had wings. I soared through the sky, but I forgot about one thing. My wings didn’t really work. I hope that I evolve. I know it’s possible, for when the stork dropped me to Earth, it took a photo of me. There, in the photo, was a image of my wings.

It follows the ocean’s shoreline. The brand new tracks were still shining. Of course, that’s what I remember. That was long ago. The tracks are long gone now. I am still there, riding the train home...forever. I will stay here with my killer and love forever on those deadly tracks.

The World is Crying by Alex Kirsten-Westgard (6)

The world is crying because of what I say to thee. I will find the creature of thee - corruption. I have found the end of where it starts. It starts with the beating of thy heart. The creature is ugly and scares my heart. Terrible, but evil, but good...

Empty and Empty?

Cold Treat

by Owen Cecil (6)

by Mia Agpoon (7)

All of the rooms are empty. All of the floors are breaking. All of the dirt is falling. All of the fire is dying. Most of the dirt is falling. Some of the floors are breaking. None of the rooms are empty. I have only been here for two years.

Sometimes I worry. I worry that I will just melt. When the power goes out, I pray I will stay cold. I worry when I go outside in the steaming summer. I drop all over the hands of children. Each childâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s shaky hand tilts my cone, and I tumble to the ground. I plop on my side. I lay in the sun. I think of my life. I melt.

No one saw him start it.

Fire Alert by Judah Hansen (6)

Beneath the Waves by Peyton Farber (6) I had always wanted a daughter, but my husband was always busy working at sea. I thought my chances of having a child was hopeless, until I met the girl in the wave. It all started when I decided to take a trip to the sea. Every seven years, my husband and his crew would make the trip to a new island which they had never been. I told him I was ready to join this adventure. It took a great deal of convincing, but he let me join them. The trip was hard. I was constantly sea sick and slept very little. It was almost sunset when we finally saw land. I smiled with the thought of sand between my toes and wind through my hair. The salty water smelled so good. When I arrived on shore, it felt like heaven on Earth. It was then that I realized there was a small girl on the shoreline. Unbelievably, she was sitting under the waves reading a book. The waves rose above her like a tent. Then, just as the waves crashed upon the shore, she disappeared. I was sure that my brain had been muddled after a long journey. I decided it was time to rest. I awoke at night to the sounds of crashing waves. I walked toward the area where my husband and his crew quietly slept. I walked along the shore where I had seen the mysterious girl in the wave. There, on nearby rock, sat the girl. She was once again reading a book. I walked up to her and she kept reading. “Hello,” I said. She looked at me as if she didn’t speak English. Then, looking me dead in the eye, she said, “Follow me.” She led me to the forest. It seemed as if we had been walking forever when we finally reached a small cottage. She brought me inside and poured me water to drink. “I got it from the stream,” she said. She explained that her parents had left on a ship and promised to return. She was still alone. Her brother had been with her, but he had been killed by wild dogs. Despite the tragic event, she spoke as if nothing was wrong. “It’s quite lovely here on the island,” said the girl. We then left the cottage and walked for some. With each step, I grew fonder of her. My thoughts raced, but I knew that I must talk with my husband. “We must stay here and take care of her,” I said. “No one should be here along,” agreed my husband. And so we stayed. Every seven years, the crew returns. The girl has changed our lives forever. We always play along the shore and read her a book each night. It is everything I ever wanted. We named her Wave. You’re Welcome by Malina Wagner (8)

Porcelain Friend by Anna Bailly (6) I sit here. I see her. I saw her twirl her freshly curled hair. I see her practice dancing for prom in her short pink dress. I see her rehearse her speech, pretending she is in front of her peers. I lay here in a dress that never changes, the location that never changes, and the regrets that never change. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll always be the dreamless, never changing me. Watching her world change, I am here with no connections to her new world...their world blank, helpless, and now losing color. I slowly fade away on the shelf surrounded by pictures and relic. I see what she sees, but she never sees me until the final change where I break under pressure.

Lost by Maddie Rowley (8)

Crossing Lanes by Sensey Cadman (8)

Just Because Poem and Photo by Owen Cecil (6) Just because I’m sweet Doesn’t mean I’m not nice Doesn’t mean I’m merciful And doesn’t mean I love you Just because I’m quiet Doesn’t mean I’m happy Doesn’t mean I feel Doesn’t mean I can Just because I don’t hurt you Doesn’t mean I won’t Doesn’t mean you’ll live Doesn’t mean it’s right Just because you know me... Do you know I hurt? Do you know I wound for fun? Do you even care? You’re not a cat. You don’t understand.

Books by Luke Novak (6) What sort of book would you like to read next? A big book? A small book? Maybe an in between book? Folk tale? Fairy tale? Now tell, what does your soul desire? Knowledge? Humor? Perhaps you would like to... Maybe you would like... You know, maybe I’ll just let you decide.

Morning Hope by Julia Fetters (8)

Simplicity by Emma Lowrance (8) Doubt in the girl extinguished as the light emerged in her. The hum of many voices burned in the room, overpowered by a dream she soon forgot the simplicity in life. “I shall not command you, but the devil of him lies within you,” cried “it.” Life has been frightful, but I was among my death.

Last Breaths by Laeh Dean (8) The hungry lady, overpowered with great weariness, touched death gently. Promises were not vivid, and they agitated her to pain within silence. She curled for the suffrage of the fierce strikings on her lungs. She had died a death of courage when strength was demanded.

Gypsies, Man by Sensey Cadman (8)

Spring Breeze by Edward Sturm (8)

Hunger by Peter Daood (8) Her lip blotted. Uniformed monitors handed ruddy portions that tormented her hunger. My condemnation blamed by the desire of vain echoed in the solitude of my existence.

Dear Food Editor: Your mouth will be watering at the thought of it. You will be ready to go running off to get it. You really need it to survive, and you won’t be able to live without it. Twix is the best candy bar available to purchase. The ingredients inside Twix make it the perfect snack to quench your hunger. The chocolate makes it sweet and savory. The caramel gives it the gooeyness that some candy bars lack. The cookie part of it gives the Twix a crunch. When all those parts come together, magic happens. Some people are severely allergic to nuts. If you are allergic to nuts Twix will give you something to eat. In the U.S. 4% of people are allergic to nuts. Snickers, Almond Joy, Pay Day, and many others have nuts in the ingredients. Twix have no nuts in their ingredients. Twix gives you a chance to take a break and eat a snack. It will fill your stomach with a tasty treat. Twix will give you a minute if you need to take a break and relax. Also it can give you energy to finish the rest of the day.

Odd Man Out by Mimi Recalde-Phillips (7)

Now you have read my reasons why Twix is the best candy bar. The ingredients in the Twix make it a great snack and will give you time to rest. Also it has no nuts in the ingredients. I believe everyone should think that Twix are the best candy bars available to purchase. Sincerely, Caitlyn Richmond (6)

Void by Owen Cecil (6) You have no idea what it is like to see your children, your beautiful planets, perish into the darkness. The cold feeling penetrates even my insanely warm surface and plunges deep down into my core. I’ve seen too much. My brothers are much too far. I still remember the days when we shared our warmth, together in a bright void of beautiful twinkles shining from afar. Together, we share those memories. I observe my children closely as they grow from nothing to close friends and companions in the void. I think...I remember...when I was but a child, I dreamed of being remembered and not forgotten among the darkness. I think of this as I now grow dimmer. I remember my parents who sacrificed everything, gave it all up, just so I could live. I’m sorry. I failed. I’ve met so many beautiful stars and planets...now just a spark in the night. I think of this as I fade away...slowly into the empty cosmos. Forever forgotten among the millions of other beautiful...stars.

Branson by Malina Wagner (8)

Misty Woods by Natalie Johnson (8)

Ethan

Yellow Sting by Gracie Dedo (6)

by Johanna Yang (7) The dark place was like a long tunnel with a brick wall on one side and a sloping roof on the other. He spoke in soft mysteries, telling me to follow him. I had no clue where we were going, but I hoped I would be safe with him. I met him yesterday, but we spoke like childhood friends. He had a chiseled face, a sharp jawline, and pearl-white teeth. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I have to do this” and the world went black.

Little Girl by Katy Dickinson (6) Could I speak with her? The one who died so long ago? The one who died with my innocence? The one who died with my mother? The one who left but never went? The one who still resides in me? The little girl that once was me?

Birthday Boy by Edward Sturm (8) My heart is pounding. I’m gasping for air. Wait until the Corrugated Cardboard Union hears about this! Taking part in twisted rituals was not part of the job description. I was made to give structures form, not this. First, they chanted strange songs at the one they called “birthday boy.” There he sat, smiling as they lined up, presenting their leader with gifts. My confusion turned to fear when their attention turned to me. The other members of the Union, and I gasped as the ritual continued. Masks, weapons, and spinning.....lots of spinning. Out of nowhere, we felt the first hit. Then another...and another... The “birthday boy” worshippers whacked, until we lay sprawled out on the ground. A massacre. They rummaged through the living rubble and took our greatest possessions: the candy. I now sit here, calling out to my friends, and I don’t hear many responses. I’ll never go on another piñata mission again. But then again, I may not have a choice. There’s no getting out of the landfill now. (7)

Command by Maddie Rowley (8) Bearing a single, light rose Prayers for hungry girls Each shivering Each bitter cold The promise of dreams echoes truth Longing for life The spice of the devil was the salacious rival’s reply. Speak to her now!

Bench Life by Katy Dickinson (6)

Hot Wings by Garret Jensen (6) My life was serene. At least until I felt the warm light land upon me. I was dropped in a white, thick powder. As I landed in the powder, I noticed that no matter how much I flipped and turned, it wouldn’t come off. I felt myself being picked up with my brothers. Confusion and worry swept over me. What if I went bad and was being trashed? No, I couldn’t have. I would have noticed. Right or not, this is where I would perish. “Where are we going?” asked a voice. I looked around, confused who asked. I looked to my left and saw Chip, who was just a little nugget, and realized he must have been the one. “To a better place,” I replied. I couldn’t let him know we were going to die, after all, he was only a nugget. After what seemed like an eternity, we were covered in more powder, except that it was thick and red. When all my brother were covered, we were taken to a pit of boiling brown liquid. The bag we were carried within flipped over - plummeting for what seemed like forever. We hit the liquid hard and started to sink. I felt irritated, then angry, then enraged, and finally furious. Why should I care if I die or not? At least I won’t be on this stupid planet. I was taken over by madness as we were brought into a room full of giants. We were closing in on one that was bald and bloated. He reached for me with his tentacles. I was moving toward a hole in his head, when all of a sudden, I felt the sweet release of death upon me.

Left: Forest Waves by Caroline Dedo (6) Right: Feathers by Callie Hinson (8)

Papa Buz by Sophie Solomon (8) This poem is for you, Papa Buz For your countless hours spent caring for your grandchildren. For your adventurous personality. You could take on the world if you wanted to . For your ability to make every family outing special and exciting. This poem is for you, Papa Buz Because you always put your family first, even if it meant sacrificing your free time. Because you were an amazing dermatologist. Because you knew everything about nature and helped us gain a greater appreciation for the planet. I love the way you... cared about every living thing. Had a kind and generous soul. Saw the beauty in everything and everyone. I hope that you will.... Watch over us from heaven. Continue to cherish your passion for nature. Rest peacefully. This poem is for you, Papa Buz.

Cold Winter by Janna Wagner (6) Kaliedescope One & Two Bottom Left: Johanna Yang (7) Bottom Right: Graham Burmeister (7)

Swimming into Oblivion by Ari Villapando (8) (6)

Walking alone on the beaten path Natalie Johnson

(8) Beaten Path by Malina Wagner (8)

Little Miss Perfect by Ava Kliewer (8) Sometimes, I just want to be free from the world. Free from the challenges - free from the rude people - free from the struggles. I’m not trying to make this sound depressing, but life can be hard. There are great things that happen in life, and then, there are those times when one just wants to hide. Think about it. You can have a smile on your face all the time, but inside, your heart can be breaking. This is the real story of Ava Kliewer, not the smiley outside story of me. People call me “Little Miss Perfect” and “Goody-Goody” and that’s kind of offensive. I’m not perfect. My life is not perfect. I deal with just as much strife as everyone else. Unfortunately, people think I don’t have hard times in my life, and that just makes me feel stuck. I can’t talk to any of my friends about it, because they don’t believe me. They think that their lives are 100 times worse than mine, but you know what? They’re not. It seems like my life is just a big mess, and I can’t seem to get up and clean it. I often think, why me? What did I do to deserve this? But there is no answer. I am just a normal kid, with normal problems, and normal worries. I am just like you.

The Sanctuary by Ryan Mahoney (6) 5029 C.E, when humanity is all but extinct, there lived a family in a cabin on stilts. They lived there to escape the monsters that came out at sunrise and went away at sunset; but there was hope. Every once in awhile, the man of the house found a piece of gold while hunting. Those pieces, if they enough, were their tickets to The Sanctuary; a paradise for the rich, and a fantasy for the poor. It could give families food, water, clothing...anything needed. However, to get in, families would have to make an offering of gold to the Nomad, a deity that created The Sanctuary and watched over it. The family included David, his wife Martha, and their sons Andrew and Jason. As David returned from his latest hunting trip, Jason asked, “Did you find anymore pieces?” “Yes,” David replied, “I did.” “How big?” Martha questioned. David answered, “Too big. I couldn’t get it off the ground, but I think it will finally be enough. Tomorrow, we are going to haul it to the gates.” Andrew worried. “Isn’t it a bit suspicious?” The rest of the family ignored him. The next night, the entire family went to the gold and started pushing it toward the gates of The Sanctuary. Soon, dawn came and so did the monsters, giant spiders, and scorpions. A scorpion stabbed Jason clean through and tore him apart before two spiders killed Martha and David. But Andrew pushed on. His thoughts raced. Survive now. Grieve later. The gates are in sight. Andrew lived out the rest of his life in grief, but alive.

Four Quarters by Gracie Dedo (6)

Foolish by Nitai Dasa (8) She emerged from the dim light, the bitter cold, shivering rapidly weariness in her fatigued eyes overpowered by dream silence. The angelic quiet echoed through her tranquil, marbled mind condemned to solitude and silence. Failed honor - wild devotions to creatures of lies - white lips She is a fool - a restless creature, silent voices creeping in her dead mind.

My Dearest

Castle on the Hill by Sensey Cadman (8)

by Garret Jensen (6) This poem is for you, Grandma Bobbi For your great attitude towards life For your bewildering amount of patience with my brothers and me when we come over For your wondrous ability to make almost anything fun even when we are doing nothing This poem is for you, Grandma Bobbi Because you care about us deeply Because you take time to help us with ideas we don’t understand Because you try to help even when you can’t I love the way you... Feed me even when I’m not hungry Do anything to please us Bake just enough cookies to give me a stomach ache I hope that you will.... Have enough strength in the future, to go on a pleasant stroll with us Leap to the goals you haven’t completed Watch us graduate and succeed This poem is for you, Grandma Bobbi

Echoes and Doubts by Miles Martin (8) Weariness filled the night as darkness fell and today was extinguished in the cold silence wayward with lively eyes and a backwards road full of echoes and doubts.

Wide Eyes by Owen Cecil (6)

Hope by Jillian Capps (6) I looked at the foot-long needle, took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and said,”I'm ready.” I was laying in the hospital bed, as they took me out of my room down the halls and into a small surgical room. They told me that I wasn't going to be wake for a while and that when I did finally wake up, I would feel a great deal of pain in my back. I was really scared at the time, but I knew that if I didn't do this now it could never be done. It all started when I was a student at Joyful Noise Academy “JNA for short.” I was a happy little girl, until one day, I woke up from nap time, and I noticed my legs were covered with bruises. I didn't know how it had happened. When I went home that day, I didn't tell my parents because I didn't think it was that big of a deal. Over the next few days, more and more bruises appeared on my legs. My parents realized that this wasn't normal and took me to the doctor. Concerned, the doctor told my parents that we should go to the hospital because they had greater knowledge regarding this. The doctors did tests, and after a day or two, they told my parents that I had a disease called bone marrow disease. As I settled into into my hospital room, I told myself that I was only going to be in the hospital for a day or two. I sat in the hospital room for hours doing nothing. I was so bored, and I asked my dad if we could go and do something fun, but he said I had to stay in the hospital room until the doctor came in. The doctor came into the room he told me that I had to go into surgery. I said goodbye to my family, then they pushed me down the hallway into a big room. The room was freezing. They told me that they were going to give me a medicine to make me fall asleep, and as soon as they did, that I was out cold. When I woke up, I was back in my hospital room and surrounded by people. I saw my Grandma, Grandpa, cousins, and my teacher from JNA. My teacher handed me a big folder and told me to open it. Inside I saw a bunch of cards from all the kids in daycare. I read every single one of them and that made me very happy that they all cared about me. Everyone gave me hope. The next couple of days were pretty boring. I woke up. I ate breakfast. Blood was drawn over and over again. Then one day, the doctor told me that since I would get three blood draws a day it would be easier to put a tube in me so my arm wouldn't hurt so badly. I was off to surgery again. I woke up with a tube in my chest that went out around my foot. The blood could finally come out easier. My hospital stay lasted almost two years. Every day was the same. Finally, I was released to go home. One word ran through my mind through all of my medical issues: hope. Hope is something I needed to live. Hope got me through not feeling my back due to bandages. Hope got me through a tube sticking out of me. Hope got me through critical pain. Hope is vital, and now, I was finally going home.

Happy Endings

by Mimi Recalde-Philips (7) Children Holding Hands Standing Motionless Today is the Day They Stay Who is in the Burning Car?

Fake Plant by Arianna Hinson (6)

Happily Ever After by Sophie Solomon (8)

(8)

I was once a plastic bottle. I was thrown away. Now, after excruciating transformation, I have made it to someoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s living room. Why couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t I have been glorified? Am I going to live the rest of my life like a copy of a great version? Sitting silently....alone. Always.

Grandma Linda by Julia Douglas (7) This poem is for you, Grandma Linda For your stuffed animals that used to comfort my cries. For your movie nights with rootbeer floats. For your peanut butter and jellies. This poem is for you, Grandma Linda Because you refuse to let your grandchildren down. Because you let me play in the grass on a summer day. Because you watch the WSU games with me across the room. I love the way you... Laugh at things that arenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t that funny. Take me to the movies and share your popcorn with me. I hope that you will... Never cry real tears in pain and agony. Never never let your determination die. I hope you never die. This poem is for you, Grandma Linda.

Thanks, Grandpa by Marin McCausland This poem is for you, PopPop For your loving hugs For your great cooking For your loving support This poem is for you, PopPop Because you always teach me great things Because you love me no matter what Because you care I love the way you... Tell me stories Tell me about life Have me over to hang out I hope that you will.... Never stop loving me Be happy for me Tell me that I am happy This poem is for you, PopPop

Altered Selfie by Natalie Johnson (8)

I Open At The Close

Broken City by Malina Wagner (8)

by Linnea Kirsten-Westgard For some unknown reason, I opened the book slowly, feeling its importance as I breathed in the amazing smell of a new book. Looking back now, I remember the feeling of dread, knowing starting a new book was a scary, dangerous thing because no matter what, starting this book was the beginning of an end. It was an end that signaled the end of my childhood, the end of my favorite period of life. It meant a sad goodbye to characters that now felt so real, so important, so tangible. When I started the book, I was a child; when I finished, like the characters, I was grown. As I grew, these characters grew with me. When I had a hard day, they kept me grounded with their own journeys and their struggles. I failed, and they failed at times, but, in the end, they prevailed. As I matured, the morals and lessons that the characters taught me stayed with me and pushed me forward, never allowing me to give up. If I started to give up, the lessons I had learned caused me to keep trying and pushing. Reading the final book in the Harry Potter series was the last time I felt carefree; it was the last time in my life that I felt like a kid. My connection with Harry Potter started between third and fourth grade. My babysitter, Molly, could not babysit my brother and I on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons. So, her friend, Mandy, came to the rescue and watched us. Mandy introduced me not only to Harry Potter but to reading independently and getting lost in a story. Mandy had the most amazing way of working with children. She had a Mary Poppins bag with surprises that she brought each day and she gave us prizes for reading. Midway through the summer, Mandy started reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone again because the next movie was coming out. She was reading with us one day when we both finished our books. She, without even batting an eye, turned to me and said “Linnea, read this. You’ll love it! Plus. I know how much you love reading big books.” Little did I know then that the first book was the start of a long eventful journey leading to the end my childhood. The story quickly drew me in. Harry became my best friend, Hermione my role model, and Ron, my comedic relief. I read the first two books that summer. Then, school started. I hated school so much. No continued on next page

from previous page... matter what I did, the other girls picked on me for being smart, ugly, annoying, clingy, unstylish, and above all a “know it all.” But, unlike years prior, it did not hurt as bad. Now I had an outlet, a source of relief, an escape to a magical world. I remembered Hermione and how she hid in the bathroom when people were picking on her. She did not let them bring her down and, instead, their cruelty fueled her drive for success. So, in fourth grade, for the first time in my childhood, I pushed away the mean words. Instead of bringing me down, the girls’ cruel words pushed me to further myself. As I read the Prisoner of Azkaban, I learned that even when people think something is so true, the truth may be just the opposite. Those girls may have said I was useless, but I wasn’t. It was just like when everybody said Sirius was a murderer and that he betrayed Lily and James, when in fact he was wrongly accused, he did everything in his power to protect them and he would do the same thing for Harry. I finished the last Harry Potter book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, at the end of fifth grade. Just as my beloved characters had to graduate and leave the relative safety of Hogwarts for the real world, I had to leave elementary school for the “real world” of middle school. Middle school is a confusing, frustrating and often scary time. On the hard days, I try to remember the lessons I learned from the Harry Potter series and drew strength from the characters. I remember that all Harry wanted to be was a “normal” fourteen-year-old, but he could not be. And, in the end, he would not have wanted to be “normal” despite all challenges that being different created. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were all different and they were better because of it. In the end, I cannot be anyone but me and rise to the challenge.

(6)

You are Insane by Sophie Solomon (8) I inquired a multiplicity at a congregation seen by the monitors, the overpowered ringing. The night. Darkness. The promise freaks. No talents. No traits. No childhood. Deficiency sunk her angelic nature. I cherished her blame. I longed for a full life. I desired goodness. Who blames me? Trouble never ended. A tale of life. I desired existence. I walk, condemned. Creatures with pretty faces. Beauty. Lies. Ugly. Fight. Obedience. Man. He ruined the worst. Debt, jail...habits. His life fooled and refused. He killed himself. Frightful loss came suddenly. I want to speak. I left, directed to the lower rooms. Yes, I drew near. Pride lowered.

Shots Fired by Ryan Mahoney (6) Horror. The emotion I feel as my screams echo around the alley. The blood of my ownerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s victims pools around them, after my children go and do this horrible work. Then, lights and a blaring wail fill my senses. I am thrown to the ground as a man who commanded me runs. I am picked up by a different man and fade into unconsciousness. Now, hours later, I wake up as I am placed upon a table, torn apart, put back together again and again. I am now in the hands of a kind man in grey, brown, and green. He bathes me, dresses me, and puts me in a soft bed that fits me perfectly. Four years pass, I am now in his strong uniform, on his hip with my black and silver shell shining like a star. Weeks pass and I wake up to the yells of friends. My owner holds me high. My children whistled off to live and die with honor. Again and again, they leave until my owner is struck down. With his last breath, he gives me a name. My name is Ebony.

Altered Selfies Created in BLUE Literary Magazine Class Top Left: Kristina Young (8) Top Right: Callie Hinson (8) Bottom Left: Edward Sturm (8) Bottom Right: Peyton Farber (6)

Chocolate, Please! by Judah Hansen (6) There is no crisis a cake pop canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t solve Happiness on a stick to enjoy. Any sadness or fear melts by way of sweetness. But why the impracticality of a cardboard stick, when you could have the entire cake?

The Child by Natalie Johnson (8) The child I left hurried from the hum of age to the number of prayers read in the silence. The child who had traits of affection will be the truth for the character of solitude and tranquility they cannot find. I shall second the high horse of pretty woman, and whenever I suffer, I shall sing obedience for you.

Blue Flowers by Gracie Dedo (6)

Clockwork Man by Judah Hansen (6)

Misery by Mimi Recalde-Phillips (7) Her smile was gone and would never come back. She waited days. At the end, she was feeling blue with anger and unfindable happiness. Misery had started again. It was watching her - something so damaged and painful. She saw it, and it ran. She tried to forget, so she walked straight to the bottom and collapsed into the water and choked. Her life was kept away.

Him by Hannah Hecox (7)

Mama would speak to him on evenings just before his nightmare took form. In a nation of slain opportunity was a girl that contained evilness and pride in her darkness.

(7)

Nana by Kristen Devlin (6) It was getting close to Christmas, and we had a picture book to make. It was the day of the photo shoot, I got ready thinking this would be a great present for my nana. We got there with the rest of the grandkids on a cold Sunday. We took pictures the whole day, we all had a lot of fun. Click! The last picture was taken. All that work was finally done. We put the book together as a family. We knew she would love it. On Christmas, we gave it to her, she loved it so much. But, eleven days after Christmas, I heard the news no one ever wants to hear.

Afterlife by Sophie Solomon (8) They asked me what life was. It was the most common question I heard, and there were so many. If your everyday life was interrupted by a scrawny, pale kid who claimed to be from Earth, wouldn’t you be curious? “All that was left were the scraps of the words no one read,” I would mumble as I turned my head. There was more to it, I guess, but it’s not like I could explain it to them. The pure concept of Earth and the solar system was a myth to them. They thought Earth was a heavenly paradise...Oh how I wish that were true. Earth was a terrible place, overpopulated with people that could literally eat the voice out of your throat before you could even manage to mumble the word. It was full of people, just like myself, not any different, who thought that they were God’s gift of superiority. One day, however, the world was so overpowered with disgusting people, that I left. I was so tired of everything, and I wanted more than anything to sleep for eternity. As I stood on the rooftop of my high school, I decided I was too sleep deprived to take the stairs back down, so I walked off. Simple as that. I was gone. Erased from this populated pigsty of a planet. But then, something happened. I woke up. Continued on the Next Page

Continued from Previous Page This wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t supposed to happen. Was I in...surely not. I had lived a simple, sinless life. As my eyes adjusted, I was able to make out my surroundings. I noticed I was in a strange-shaped room made of...newspaper. But that wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t all. No, there were pages of books I had never heard of and poems that I had never read. Soon, I saw people emerging out of the words - characters, I assumed, as none looked like present day humans. Slowly, they lifted me up off the ground. I never asked them where I was. It was almost like we had a mutal understanding that this was the right place for me. For years....I suppose....since I have no real way to tell time....I became aquatinted with this strange small world. So now, here I am - a strange place where the world is an illusion - a place where no one sleeps - a place made of forgotten words and sacred poems - a place as lost as I am.

Nighttime by Masha Yakubovich (7) The loud echo of her nightmares took a smile to make her cry out. People tell her to burn destiny, but love is a beautiful and indefinable feeling. Beneath, she has goals to laugh and hold her head up high. He coaxed to distract her about the nights of deep complaining.

Passage to Light by Eleena Amirani (8) The girl had hoped and dreamt, she found a passage leading her to the light. She felt her heart full of a life created from kindness.

Hello, Mama by Caroline Jiang (7) No evenings without Mama complaining. Her destiny was burning to darkness. Standing not for long. She collapsed for her life. Goodbye, Mama.

Grell by Gracie Dedo (6)

Still Laughing. No Use Crying. Sensey Cadman (8)

See You Later by Malina Wagner (8)

Be Prepared by Judah Hansen (6) Zombies. Now I know you're thinking about that crazy guy on the side of the street with the cardboard sign that says “the end is coming,” but hypothetically, what if a virus was released that could reanimate the dead and cause them to crave the taste of human flesh? What would you do? I would, step one, prepare. I would make sure to have a generator and lots of water bottles and nonperishable canned food items so I could be fed and hydrated with a guaranteed source of power. It would be kind of pointless to have all these supplies but just be sitting out in the open surrounded by attacking zombies trying to defend myself helplessly. I would put all of these supplies in a place that is either on a high level of a tall building or somewhere similar easily defendable. Where ever it is I would make sure it didn’t have any low windows that a zombie could break through and attack through. The best place you could be is a tall building that you could block the stairway and control the power on the elevator so if i needed to get down I could, but I don't have zombies stumbling into the elevator and arriving in the penthouse to my surprise every ten seconds. Now, if a zombie somehow wandered up into my safe room, I would have to have something with which to defend myself with. I think that you would need a range weapon and a close combat melee weapon. If a zombie preferably was far away I would need a weapon with which I could shoot it with. My prefered range weapon would be an IMI Negev, a lightweight machine gun that is commonly found with ammo too. My close combat weapon would be a sledge hammer or another large hammer. The reason I would choose a large blunt weapon over a sharp object like a machete, because since they are already dead slashing them won't do much damage, you really need to use something is big and heavy to bash their skull in with to permanently kill them. I hope my writings can warn you that you need to prepare. Think - if you were not prepared, if I had not warned you, you would be helpless starving and bitten, so you can thank me for my service in preparing you for the oncoming apocalypse. You are welcome.

Popping Out of Reality by Kylie Mitchell (8)

Interested by Johanna Yang (7) The echo saw her ghostly rise before the world smiled. Darkness will tell you that love was worth a red question. When streets wrinkled, the girl remained damaged and missing. She was driven by inescapable force and the last coax.

Broken by Andrew Skinner (8) No doubt: She overpowered the furious dream, of bitter cold. This vision disconnected my tranquil simple life. Now, I'm as sick as a daring devil. And among this I remember, the Tuesday morning, I was breaking.

Deep Death by Uday Kabirapanthi (7)

421 by Julia Fetters (8)

The figure dragged her into her nightmare. Then it threw her into misery by her blood soaked shoulder into the burning beautiful hate-fed evil. She clutched her damaged arm while her mouth growled with shock. She sank deeper to the bottom, dying in the giant hole of cemented death.

The True World by Graham Burmeister (7) The echo gently complained with the ghostly world. People built shops and houses that fueled desires to burn books and items. Time made love to another shocking woman Together rationed abundances for one portion of learning.

They are Us by Anna Bailly (6) Look, it’s the strange kids. Look, it’s the kids who sit alone. It’s the kids who disagree. It’s the kids who live in their own world. Look at them, they are different and weird. Look at the, they are us. Crystal Blue by Peyton Farber (6)

Mirror Lake by Masha Yakubovich (7) Impressionism by Kylie Mitchell (8) JoAnna Pistotnik (7) Kortney Rowe (8) Hanna Scheck (7) Malina Wagner (8) Caroline Jiang (7)

Family of Eight by Julia Douglas (7) Humans need food, water, warmth, and air. As humans we want new cars, a diamond ring, popularity, a new phone, a huge house, and all the food you could ever eat. When thinking about it all you really need in life to live is food, warmth, water, and a loving family. It doesn’t have to be the best life in the world but at least be thankful that there is life.

Altered Self by JoAnna Pistotnik (7)

I was walking the streets of Prague with my mom and dad all day long. After such a long day of walking, we were very tired and our feet hurt so when the sun was starting to go down tonight, we found a shortcut that would take us to the nearest train station. As many know, there is the fact that eighty percent of the world lives on only ten dollars a day. When we found the smaller part of town, the homeless people were more often seen than in the rest of town. There was one family that stood out on the streets; It was a family of eight. As my mom, my day, and I walked by the large family, I saw that all they had to eat was one bottle of water and three pieces of bread. What I felt when I saw them was more than any eleven year old should ever have to feel. I looked at my mom, and she opened her arms as I ran to her. She just let me cry. I was very grateful for what I had in life right then, and I just kept hugging my Mom and Dad and didn’t let go. Eventually, I had composed myself enough, and we headed to the train station. When we arrived at the station, we sat together very closely for the entire journey. Once back to our destination, I sat on my bed for a few minutes for complete silence. I turned around and spoke for the first time since seeing the family.

Cyclops by Kirkland McCormick (8)

Line of Fire by Kortney Rowe (8)

I asked how I could help. That night we discussed me getting an allowance. I would save some money, I would donate some for a local charity. I decided to give the money to the Lord's Diner, so I hopefully would never again have to see a family sharing such little food. Some of us will never realize how much we have until we lose it or even have it taken away. I hope that someday the world will understand how much we all have, be grateful for what we have, and maybe start to share some of our gifts like I decided to do. Just know that people can make a difference if we try. Ever since that day, I have thanked anyone for anything even if they just did something nice for someone I didn’t even know. Be grateful for what you have and help someone out.

The Flood by Caitlyn Richmond (6) and Grace Martin (6) 2015

Synopsis: Don’t run away from your problems - Solve them Characters: Mama Brie:(F) Sweet and loving mother mouse - medium to high voice Pepper Jack: (M) Adventure loving big brother - exaggerates most symbols very loud, medium toned, sassy voice Turducken: (M/F) A wise mallard that is very forgetful and doesn’t know what he is saying half of the time - low voice Mozzarella: (F) The little sister white with blond spots- quiet, highest voice Swiss: (F) Vain older sister with long, beautiful mouse hair Setting: The Grand Canyon Time Period: Modern Day (Scene opens in a sunny crack in the ground. Calm and peaceful until Pepper Jack and Swiss run in stage left.) Pepper Jack: (yelling and frantically searching) Mama! Swiss: (brushing her long beautiful hair and looking irritated) She can’t hear you, Pepper Jack. (Pepper Jack runs off stage right, but realizes something's wrong and backs up to center stage talking timidly to the audience) Wait a minute, Who do you think you are and why are you watching us? Swiss: (rolling her eyes) They won’t answer you. Pepper Jack: Well if they’re not going to talk, I will. (With more confidence now Pepper starts talking with an occasional slap of his overalls) Hi, I am Pepper Jack , this is my sister Swiss. We have a mother named Brie and a little sister Mozzarella. We are all names after different types of cheese, because, well, you know, we are mice! While I’d love to stay here and talk, Mama Brie needs me to find Mozzarella, she ran off again.

Swiss: (keeps brushing hair and rolls her eyes again) This isn’t the first time. (Pepper Jack and Swiss exit stage right. Right then Mozzarella enters stage left looking sad and carrying a traveling bag) Mozzarella: (Sadly walks to a corner and cradles her legs and twirls her tail. She starts to talk in a sad voice) I can’t do anything right. My whole family probably hates me. (She looks up and sees the audience, startled she stands) Oh, hi I didn’t see you. You’re probably thinking what in the world is happening. Well I messed up, AGAIN!! I forgot to turn the water off after my bath, so now we don’t have a home, because I flooded the mouse hole. My mom, my sister, and my brother are so mad at me. So, I have decided to run away. (Mozzarella stomps off stage left with her arms crossed. Mama Brie, Pepper Jack and Swiss enter stage right.) Mama Brie: (with a sweet/worried voice) Well, on the bright side, that hole in the wall really was getting too small for our family. Swiss: (brushing her hair and barely looking at the audience) The mirror in that mouse hole wasn’t very big. I need a full length one to make sure I look perfect each and everyday. Mozzarella is such a baby. She thinks everything is about HER! Pepper Jack: (says under his breath) Yeah, sure, we need another home just like the other three mouse holes that Mozzarella ruined. If she keeps taking baths like she does, we are going to have to help pay for “cheddar” play to live. Get it? “cheddar”???? Mama Brie: (little less sweet tone) Pepper Jack and Swiss, be nice to your sister! Who knows where she has ran off to. You two should be worried not self-centered and making jokes.. (Brie looks around) Pepper Jack: Alright, I’ll try to be “gouda”. (Jack giggles to himself) Where do you think Mozzarella could be? Mama Brie: I’m not sure honey. I only wish I knew. (Both Pepper Jack, Swiss, Mama Brie exit down stage left. Mama Brie and Pepper Jack are starting to look worried. Mozzarella enters stage right in deep thought.) Mozzarella: (with a concerned look)

Why did I ever run away? I’m sure my family would understand, if I simply apologized, promised to concentrate more, and helped find a new home. But instead, I just ran away. (tears start to roll down Mozzarella’s tiny mouse face) What if they don’t understand and never forgive me? What if they stopped loving me? I’m so confused. But, I just can’t sit and cry here any more. I have to do something! (Mozzarella runs in tiny circles and then sprints off stage left. Entering stage right is a brightly colored duck. Turducken is dancing, singing a little song to himself. The duck clears his throat in a weird way after hitting a strange note. Mozzarella re-enters stage left and sees him. Then grabs a tiny stick, the nearest thing possible to defend herself. Mozzarella takes a defensive stance.) Mozzarella: (with a determined, but frightful voice) Don’t come any closer. I have a weapon. (She looks down at what she has grabbed and sees that it is only a tiny twig.) And I’m not afraid to use it! Turducken: Now, why is someone as small as you, um…. I mean as big and strong as you, out here all alone. Mozzarella: Who says I am? You’re here. Turducken: Well now, little friend, you can put that mighty sword away. I won’t eat you. I’m a vegetarian. Well, at least I think I am. Tomatoes are a vegetable, right? (Starting to ramble) My name is Turducken. I know, I know….I’m a mess. I have so many different birds in my family tree, that people are afraid to walk underneath it! HA! Get it? In truth, I think my mom might have been part pigeon, and is it even been rumored that I might have some octopi in me. Now my Dad side of family is too difficult and too strange to explain. (He smiles in a devious way) (faces the audience and speaks) I’m a one hundred-seven years old turkey….duck...chicken...oh, you know the drill. How about yourselves? (gesturing with his hands and talking sarcastically waits for a minute then says) Whoa Whoa Whoa, don’t all talk at once. You're going to bust my eardrums out of their sockets. Mozzarella: Don’t even bother trying, I tried earlier. There just here for the show. They are all as silent as, well…. as a mouse. (looking at Turducken and using a sweet voice) I guess you aren't that scary, Mr. Turducken. (using an attitude now) Well... for a bird that is.

Turducken: (sarcastically) Gee, thanks. So why are you out here all alone, I’m not meaning to judge your authority. You have DEFINITELY show yourself capable, but isn’t someone worried about you? Mozzarella: I’ll tell you, but promise you won’t laugh. Well, I’m out here because of one of my MANY mistakes. I might of maybe left the water running for the third time. (Turducken snickers) Hey! Turducken: (wiping his eyes from the tears hysterically) No kid. I was once in the same boat….well…..I guess you could have really used a boat, huh? (laughs hysterically) But seriously, when I messed up, I didn’t run away, I was pushed away. Mozzarella: What? How awful. Turducken: My first mess up was that when my brothers and sisters were learning how to swim and fly. Mozzarella: (interrupting) I wasn't really asking for a life st.. Turducken: (interrupting dramatically hand gestures, continues caring more about what he has to say) I decided to pretend that I was too small to crawl out of the nest. My mother felt sorry for me and took me under her wing. And now, forty duck years later I missed the signals that they wanted me gone, and out I was thrown.So here I am living the lonely life, a bird without a home, all because I didn’t tell the truth. Mozzarella: Wow...I guess my mistake looks pretty tiny next to your LIFE problems! Turducken: Hey, now… Mozzarella: It would be nice to have a friend right about now. Turducken: You got it, little buddy! (Both Mozzarella and Turducken exit stage right skipping. Mama Brie and Pepper Jack enter stage right) Mama Brie: (uneasy) Children, we have to find Mozzarella. She must be terrified being all by herself out here.

Pepper Jack: (jumping around like a ninja) Don’t worry mother, I’ll protect you. They don’t call me Pepper Jack for nothing, I’ll be sure to GRATE and SLICE anyone who crosses our path! Get it, Grate??? Slice???? Like in Cheese??? (making the motions of grating and slicing cheese) Swiss: (Still looking bored while brushing hair) No one will hurt me. Beautiful mice don’t get injured. People like looking at us too much. Mama Brie: The two of you are being ridiculous. I am really worried. Pepper Jack: Wait, Mom. I think I hear something. (Pepper Jack licks his finger and puts it in the air. He leans his ear forward sniffling like a crazy man. Then jumps up in the air and runs behind his mother. Now on his knees he peeks around his mother's legs which he is holding on to for comfort and terrified he says) Mama! There’s a… anas platyrhynchos looking thing right over there! Swiss: (like she knows and is ready for a photo) Is that like a paparazzi? This may be my chance! Mama Brie: (Confused but shaking in fear whispers) Wait, a what? Jack, I don’t think that is a real word. Pepper Jack: I mean….a….a...A DUCK! Take cover! (Both Pepper Jack, Swiss, and Mama Brie are frightened and take cover and hide behind a large rock. Turducken and Mozzarella enter stage left humming a new song to the earlier tune Turducken was humming.) Turducken: (singing) Cheese is amazing... Mozzarella: (Singing) Everyone agrees…. Turducken: Cheese smells like heaven Mozzarella: Best served with peas...

Turducken: But with cheese is melted It slides down our throats So, please only cow cheese and none made from goats. (Turducken laughs hysterically at his own verse, and Mozzarella congratulates him on his lyrics. As Turducken keeps laughing, as Mozzarella feels bored of his joke she stops because of a feeling.) Mozzarella: Do hear that? (Mozzarella walks over to log and finds Mama Brie, Pepper Jack, and Swiss) Mama Brie! Swiss! Pepper Jack! I thought I would never see the three of you again!!!! Mama Brie: Oh, Honey! How we’ve been worried. Turducken: Honey? That would be delicious with Brie cheese! Swiss: (pulls herself together and starts brushing her hair again) I wasn’t worried one bit. Mozzarella: I can’t believe you came to find me! (Sassy) You all did come to find me, right? Pepper Jack: Well, Mom was trying to find you. Swiss doesn’t really understand why we are even here, (Swiss sticks her tongue out at Pepper Jack) and I was just “melting” away the time. Get it? Cheese melting??? Turducken: That’s a good one, little man! I just wrote a song about melting cheese. Mama Brie: Oh sweetie, we are so glad you are safe. (concerned and whispering to Mozzarella) You are safe, right? Who exactly is this “friend” of yours. Turducken: Why let me introduce myself, dear mouse mama. I am Turducken. Mozzarella and I found each other and are now friends. She loves my songs, and I love the company. Well...I guess...I need to be heading on…. Mama Brie: Nonsense. You were here for our little Mozzarella just when she needed you. You are welcome to join us as we find a new home.

Mozzarella: Oh, Mama. I am so sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have run away. I should have stayed and help fix the problem. Pepper Jack: Right! You should have stayed and not “milked it” for attention. Get it? Milk makes cheese…. (cracks himself up) Turducken: Little man, I like your sense of humor. But, give this little lady a little break. It’s been a long day, and I wouldn’t want everyone to not feel “gouda” at the end of this little show. (everyone looks at the audience in unison…….) Get it? Gouda? Pepper Jack: I tried that earlier. No go. Mama Brie: Well, let’s all start looking for a new home. Together, we can solve our problem. Mozzarella: Oh, a new home sounds so good. What I really need is a warm bath. Turducken: I may be wrong little lady, had you stopped up the bath when you started running the water that destroyed your home? Mozzarella: Oh, no. I was going to wait until it was hot enough. I really LOVE hot baths. Turducken: (looks at Swiss and then back at Mozzarella) I may be wrong little mouse friend, but I think the problem wasn’t you. (Everyone looks surprised) Mama Brie, Pepper Jack, Swiss, and Mozzarella: (in unison) What? How? Turducken: While I don’t have hair, because, you know...I have feathers, my uncle on my mom’s side WAS a plumber. Swiss: (irritated) What on Earth does that matter? Turducken: (trying to be kind) It matter quite a bit. There is only one way to flood a house from runnin’ bath if it isn’t plugged up. HAIR!

Mama Brie, Pepper Jack, Swiss, and Mozzarella: (in unison as Swiss stops her brushing) HAIR? Turducken: Yep, hair. My guess is that YOU, Mozzarella, did not cause all of those floods. It was someone with LONG hair that clogged that drain and destroyed your precious home. (Turducken, Mozzarella, Mama Brie, and Pepper Jack all turn and look at Swiss - long pause) Swiss: (shocked) Who me? Pepper Jack: (walks over to Swiss) Yes, you. Swiss: But, but….my hair….I love my hair. Mama Brie: Well, we need a solution before we find a new house. Mozzarella: (like she has an idea) I’ve got it. Wait right here. (Mozzarella runs back over to her bag by the rocks and grabs something out of it - placing it behind her back) I promise from now on to stay and solve my problems, and the first problem I plan on solving, is Swiss’s hair! (pulls out a large pair of scissors) Swiss: (shocked and screaming) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! LIGHTS OUT - THE END Crossroads by Judah Hansen (6)

Forgotten Doom by Judah Hansen (6)

Sadness Masked in Many Fakes False Sense of Security Forgot the Apocalypse Doomed World Being Ignored

Write the Rights by Johanna Yang (7)

Silent Women Waiting All to Quiet to Forget Abolished Presence of Many They Smile to Hide the Pain

He was Different by Sophie Solomon (8)

Unclear Sky by Owen Cecil (6)

The Journey by Brandon Cope (8) Teleportation: to transport across space and distance instantly. This fictional term was about to become reality for me. Through books and movies, I had always found science fiction to be very intriguing. But the idea of transporting from one point in space to another seemed impossible. That October day, I found differently.

Wilted Face by Arianna Hinson (6)

I suddenly found myself on top of one of the pyramids of Egypt right after I was asked how to prove the Exterior Angle Theorem in Geometry class. I was thinking about the Great Pyramid of Giza in the moments right before it happened. I had a hunch that I was able to instantly go to any place in the world that I thought of. To test that theory, I put a picture of the Eiffel Tower in my mind and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I was amazed. Here I was, looking over all of a city, which I presumed to be Paris, below me. To confirm it, I looked at was I was standing on and saw that I definitely was on top of the Eiffel Tower. My theory was correct! I could teleport! All of my dreams had come true.

Hypnosis by Maddie Rowley (8)

Wide Eyes Reality Slips Away Bang! Bang! The Cowboy Shoots His Gun. 50 Cents Can Buy You a New World The Popcorn is All Gone

Mermaids Submerged Creatures Breathing Oxygen Through Gills Underwater Suburbia Mirrored Reality

Aquatic Suburb by Judah Hansen (6)

Love Lost Pity Party Cried for the Loss of Her Mum Too Young to be in this Bad Place No, She Should Go Through this Pain

Hope by Eleena Amirani (8)

Too Soon for Goodbye by Sense Cadman (8)

The Words Sound Nicer This Way by Sophie Solomon (8) When the wind is strong enough to push you back When the screams echo through your brain When the sky turns from blue to a blunted black When the only thing you feel is pain Give up! They tell you, those scars on your wrist You can reach for the stars, but youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll probably miss Talent is scarce from where you come from The tick of the clock slowly dies to a hum The bottomless pit that is your heart You had something there, you had that part But you wasted it on other bottomless pits You thought they were there, you fought hard to forgive Identities fall like leaves on a tree Like that one autumn evening, once filled with such glee Can you hear that faint murmur, the voice in the wind You stand in silence, waiting for your life to begin When the wind slows down to a quiet breeze When the voices in your head now tend to agree When the sky lights up with a familiar shade Still after all this time, you only feel pain

Road Map to the Sky by Hanna Scheck (7)

Damage by Lilly Willis (7) Swearing follows those who argue and complain. Destiny may tell you which people to question. Goodbyes leave damage. Sometimes accusing yourself from life isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t the best distraction.

Spirit by Kirkland McCormick (8)

They are coming for me... again.

Miles Martin (8)

Weak to the land of Wonderland.

Janna Wagner (6)

Owen Cecil (6)

The world is crooked. Nothing notices.

Yeah, maybe youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re right. Alright, yeah. Maddie (8) & Sensey (8)

New Days by Ari Villalpando (8) The ordinary lady had found a dream bearing great complexion and excitement. She felt affection for the angelic, practical variety of children.

Art is Good by Natalie Johnson (8)

Morning Grounds by Kylie Mitchell (8)

Closed with an Open Mind by Katy Dickinson (6) He cleared his throat, and the wind bit at his ears. as the tumbling rocks clawed at this heels. He was covered in a blanket of shale. He eyes closed, and the color drained from his face. He let go of life with an open mind.

The sad lady appeared Her complexion with dreary silence. Calm introductions too soon forget tranquil solitude. A sovereign fellow lies with you in admiration, striking loveliness. He killed himself mumbling your name in early morning grounds looking at you.

A Pledge by Kirkland McCormick (8) Touched with hope, she appeared impressed by actions. I passed emerging from silence upon a wide, long room, and a dim light appeared to me and promised a calm introduction. To pledge to a lively child, I marked her with traits of ordinary and obedient characters.

Life's Final Game By Kristina Young (8)

Just End It

The candles burnt in my hands; fragments of whispered repetitions read. Relief to my heart heaved wishes to go wayward to the gates of pleasure. The piano played a daring song of sarcasm and punishment. Mumbling the names of the fools before me; I approached the twisted ruins, connecting to life's last game.

by Bryson Toubassi (7) He throws all the smiles away, to shut out the loud echoes. The love and happiness stolen from a slap, from hateful bigots. Waving goodbye to every painful day, I clutch the hand to wide open warm surroundings. Now collapsed into the inescapable waters; I visit death.

The Shape of Things by Kylie Mitchell (8)

I Can’t Sum This Up in a Few Words Sophie Solomon Have you ever looked back and thought to yourself, “I could’ve fixed the problem before it became a problem?” Have you ever found yourself regretting some stupid decision you made three years ago that literally changed your life? Well, before you regret anything, I’d like you to listen to this. Three years ago, I made a mistake. Simple as that. A simple little mistake. A mistake that would send me into emotional turmoil, and only then, did I figure out what the real problem was. I was weak. Everyone had been cutting chunks out of who I was, taking their own little pieces to display with pride. They had done it. They had successfully hunted down the differences polluting their safety. I guess what they say is true. Humans are afraid of the unknown. As for me, well, I embrace it. The beauty of it’s dark, shadowy hands wrapping around my fragile mind, holding it close. The unknown raised me as a nurturing parent would raise their child. I learned from it, I grew up with it. I lived it. The unknown gave me strength, and now, I could fight back. First, I took a step back to inspect the damage that had been done to me. All those scars….the ones that would never heal, were too big to cover up. I looked like a mess, and that’s when I realized, I was the mess, and again, I embraced it. I embraced the mess inside of me. In truth, we all have a mess inside us. A mess dying to get out, clawing at your insides. People hate that feeling. We’ve grown up in a society where being different is looked down upon. I see all the people hiding from themselves, but I can tell you, firsthand, that you can’t run away from the monster, when you are the monster. The sooner you accept it, the better. Now, I’m not going around calling people monsters, I’m calling monsters people. When you were a child, were you ever told stories about the monsters living under the bed? It was all just a metaphor. Those monsters under your bed, they’re real. They’re all your deepest and darkest thoughts clawing at your mattress, trying to break free. They only come out at night, when you start thinking. Me being me, I had let the monsters out. Willingly, in fact. Those monsters became my friends, and I shared every waking moment with them. People shunned for being an outcast. Why shouldn’t they? I was the mess raised by the unknown who played with monsters. I was having a staring contest with fear, and I was winning. But then I ran away. I was done with having an army, fighting to get rid of me. I was blindly letting them shoot their words at me like bullets from a rifle. I needed to find tranquility again, but no one listened. I yelled and screamed. I threatened. Then they listened. Within a week, I was free, and freedom felt good. Have you ever been somewhere, and almost instantly, you knew. This was your place. This was your kingdom. Have you ever...belonged somewhere? Everyone belongs somewhere, you just have to find out where that place is. Sometimes, it’s hiding in plain sight, like it was for me. To any onlooker, it’s not much, but to me, it’s like a second home. There’s just something about it...maybe it’s how unique it is. Maybe it’s how welcoming it is. I know people will disagree, but those people just haven’t found their place yet. Don’t worry though, if you’re one of those people, you will find your place. Don’t rush the journey, as the journey is what you have to go through to find your place. I know, the few that are reading this may be surprised, as I’m known to only write about dark concepts. Well, this is my way of telling you that there is way more to Killer me than the occasional sketch and One of Them Is poem about death. There is way The Other One Doesn’t Know it Yet more to me than a few words used The Woman Takes Out Some Scissors to effortlessly categorize people. There is way more to all of us. He Lies on the Floor Dead Every single person has a mess inside them. Walk into the unknown. Be proud of that mess tangled up inside you. Befriend those monsters under your bed. Because I can tell you, firsthand, that it’s all part of the journey called life, and despite all the pain, and heartache, and all the times you just wanted to give up, you’ll look back on it all and realize that it was worth it the whole way through. Life is worth living.

The Bedroom Killer by Graham Burmeister (7)

Bad Breath by Johanna Yang (7)

Just Because by Johanna Yang (7) Just because I’m big Doesn’t mean I can always help myself Doesn’t mean I don’t love you And doesn’t mean you have to do to me, what might’ve happened to you Just because your people treated you wrongly, you treat me that way That doesn’t mean I deserve it That doesn’t mean I don’t need respect That doesn’t mean I don’t need care Just because you think you’re proving something to someone Doesn’t mean I don’t need food Doesn’t mean I don’t need water Doesn’t mean I don’t need nourishment Just because you don’t care Why do you do it? I don’t understand. Do you love me? I tried really hard, but did you? I loved you through it all. Stop animal cruelty.

Support for Life by Peyton Farber (6), Garrett Jensen (6), Megan Skinner (6), Edward Sturm (8), JoAnna Pistotnik (7), and Ben Muehling (8) Hello. How are you? I wrote this message to tell you that life isn’t always easy. Every time you are failing, think of all the accomplishments. I will always be here for you. Don’t worry. Don’t ever forget I love you. Work through your struggles and persevere. Never forget how important you are.

Golden Hour by Anna Bailly (6) The silence grew icky and uncomfortable. The air became heavy and thick. My heart raced like a horse on the tracks, drenched in sweat and tears. Slowly, I drifted off into nothing. I lost my innocence and my childish ways. I lost everything. I had that golden hour.

Falling Leaves by the River by Cyan Rose (6)

Altered Selfie: Marco Photo by Nitai Dasa (8)