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Victor Valley College

The Guild Scroll

By the Guild of Creative Writers “Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.” - Benjamin Franklin over.‖ ―Uh, my mom is going to work tonight so yes come over and Long Poem By Ashlei McPhereson spend the night.‖ I hang up and tell my mom. ―Goodbye. I love you.‖ I stare in the mirror looking at my face and I instantly feel She says, ―stay out of trouble. I love you too.‖ mounts of disgrace. Up the stairs and to her room, I have made up my mind about From my face to the sink, my blood slowly drips. I try to what I am going to do. move and I instantly feel pain in my ribs. I grab the forbidden hidden box and my treasure lays there in I lay in my head on the sink in my own blood, thinking to a sock. myself, this can’t be Heavy, shiny and black love. it is in my hands. There I close my eyes and is no looking back. begin to contemplate Ding dong ding dong why this is my reality. rang the doorbell! I I wonder what I did in knew that second I was a past life to deserve this inches from Hell. black eye. With the end so near, I How come I couldn’t never thought I would die this time? Death has have this much fear. to be easier than life. Maybe, I should pretend I snap back to reality like no one is here. when I hear my mother. I was his punching bag. Sweetheart, ―can you His marionette. Tonight, come here please.‖ I pull his strings with the Splashing the cold metal in my hands. water on up my bruised I hide Smith and Wesson face, the soft liquid behind my back, gripstings; more abuse withping tight in my fingers. out a trace. Slowly, my body slithers I did a horrible job of down the steps. keeping the bruises hidIn he walks with sorry den when I walked into life sometimes comes at you hard and you feel like you're going to break, but written all over his face, the kitchen. and for the last time we ―Oh my, did u get into no matter what you'll pull through. ―Broken Mirror‖ by ~Brianne Orr briefly embrace. (Deviant Art: rabidbribri) another fight?‖ He kisses my busted lip, ―Yes, mom. But this is then my black eye and my bleeding heart begins to cry. the very last time.‖ I take a step back and put the gun to his head. The bleeding The telephone rings. I say ―hello.‖ My beaten heart begins to and bruises are at their end. sting. Seeing sorry go to fear in his eyes makes me rejoice with ―Hello.‖ happiness inside. ―Hey,‖ he starts. ―I am sorry about earlier. Is it okay if I come Continued on page 3

Cracks In The Mirror


Rated G: No Profane, Explicit, or Inappropriate Content. Suitable for all ages. Rated PG: Mild Violence, Explicit Profanity, Sexually Suggestive Content. Rated R-13: Intense Violence/Gore, Brief Sexual Content. X-17: Extreme Violence/Gore, Explicit Sexual Content, Absolutely No Censorship.

September 23, 2011 · Volume 01, No. 1

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Table of Contents

Poetry Pgs: 1&3

(R-13) Cracks In The Mirror

Poem By Ashlei McPhereson Art: ―Broken Mirror‖ by ~Brianne Orr

Pg. 3 (PG) Haunted Memories Poem By Britnee Messer Art: ―Swamp of Dead’s Tranquility‖ by Carina Grimm

Pg.6 (G) Drowning in The Water Well Freeverse Poem by Joy Hmura

Pg.12 (G) Restless Night Poem by: Jordan O’Guynn Art: ―Sunset Silhouette‖ by Rebecca Hullah

Pg: 12 (G) June Resolution Clip out Poem by Judith Pfeffer

Pg: 13 (G) Letters to Wonderland Paragraph Poem by Carol Wilson Art: ―My Name is Alice‖ by Emma Stewart

Pg: 15 (G) Admiration. Poem by Emma Stewart Art: ―Moonlit Night‖ by Emma Stewart

Pg: 17 (R-13) Secrets of The Wall of Rome Freeverse Poem by Micah Raimo Art: Fresco from Te Villa of Mysteries

“Metaphors have a way of holding the most truth in the least space.” ~Orson Scott Card

Micros Pg: 5 (G) The Balloon by Chere Smith Art: ―Alien Invasion‖ by Robert Copu

Pg: 11 (PG) How I Learned to Fly by Micah Raimo Art: ―Zues’Might‖ By Evan Ludes

Pg: 16 (G) The Big Fish by Brandon Smith Art: Angelica ―River Bank‖

“Writing is a dog’s life, but the only life worth living.” Gustave Flaubert

Short Stories Pg: 4&5 (G) Imitation by Anthony Del Valle Art: ―Dubai Islands of the World‖

Pgs: 9&13 (PG) A Night of Brilliance

“I love writing. I love the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with human emotions.” ~James Michener

by Saint Michael Moore Art: ―Fat Man's Mushroom Cloud Over Nagasaki (Aug. 9, 1945) ‖

Essays & Articles

by Michael Davis Art: ―Mansion‖ by Kamil Bartłoszewski

Pg: 8 (G) Contradictions in the Bible? Short Essay by Wadmar Miguel Art: ―Crows & Celtic Cross‖ By David Whittingham

Pgs: 10&17 (PG) Life At The Estate: Ch 1 of S.O.G. Life

Pgs: 14&15 (PG) Summer Solstice by Emma Stewart Art: ―Rainbow Love Garden‖ by Emma Stewart

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Mirror on pg 1

Now, I finally have the control. Too bad it won’t be for long. I move the gun from his head to his heart ―Together forever. Or, till death do us part.‖ Click, click, click, the chamber is empty I look in his eyes and they are full of fury. ―You crazy bitch!‖ he says. I assume the position, waiting for the battle to begin. As he raised his hand ready to strike, in comes my mother much to my surprise. Confused, she asked ―What are you doing?‖ Thinking of nothing to say I start smiling. Shifting my body to hide the gun she says, ―I hope you two are using protection.‖ ―Don’t worry she has all the protection she needs.‖ He says. My mother walks away looking at ease. In that brief moment reality set in. Trying to kill makes me no better than him. How did I ever allow myself to fall this deep? I fall to the ground and begin to weep. I cry for my heart that had been torn apart. I cry for my soul that is no longer whole. I cry for all the ladies who allowed abuse to ruin their lives. I cry for all the women who are resting place is underneath dirt, believing this is what they deserved. I cry for not being able to see the signs and for my loved ones, witnessing my demise. I cry for the damage done by my actions to the ones that were left behind. I cry for the example that is shown to future generations on the portrayal of what a relationship is. And I cry for him… I cry for his insecurities that allow him to feel the need to harm me. I cry for the abuse he suffered as an adolescent that keeps him from being loving and affectionate. I cry, cry, and cry. Lying in the puddle of tears, I let them rinse away all of my fears. Snapping back to the present I see his feet coming into view. Mustering the strength to stand, he reaches out a helping hand. Baffled, not knowing whether to accept or deny I figure, What the hell? I just tried to kill this guy. Awkward silence fills the room but it is as if were in a trance and can’t speak or move. Our actions were wrong on both parts, and the love we thought we had has torn us apart. Not knowing love from home, I guess we came up with it on our own. Looking back on the many occasions we fought this was a life lesson learned hard. I’m not sure where to go, but I now have the strength to walk away on my own. I thought when he hit me it meant that he cared. Now I know that is not how you care. Using make up cover up a black eye or holding ice on my lip for hours to make the swelling go down is not what love is about.

―Swamp of Dead’s Tranquility‖ by Carina Grimm (Deviant Art: VikkiGothAngel)

Haunted Memories


Poem By Britnee Messer A gentle touch, the snow so white shivering, as images of your face plague me tonight. Like a ghost of conscious hidden in your dreams; which makes you want to cry and scream. Escaping, that word is just a lie your death haunts me even when I close my eyes. ―Where were you when I died?‖ The last spoken words I herd him cry. nevermore will I be the same, as my life steadily drains away. And as I slowly close my eyes which I know now, will be the very last time. Drowning in my own sorrow, a silent death, I plead. I'm dying for him, but does he even remember me? Even after all his visits in my dreams, or am I just a dying corpse, with haunted memories.....

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to them?‖ ―I know and I will live in seclusion on the Island in the World Islands in Dubai. Only you, the servants and me will know.‖ Her azure blue eyes mesmerized him and he reluctantly agreed to her wish. Elias went back to the lab in mainland China; he knew he was violating the Eugenics Laws of 2040 but he didn’t care he couldn’t tolerate to see her in such state. He clutched the vial of Drina’s boyfriends DNA tightly as if it were everything. After almost one month the clone was fully grown, removed from the organic womb and a meticulous examination; all vitals and organ functions were as in wondrous order. Drina dressed beautifully as a fashion model with a plethora of gold jewelry, She waited in the sitting rooms of laboratories, Elias in hand came in the room with him; Drina’s eye immediately caught by his thin tall frame, and at last she was herself again. She leapt from the chair and embraced him and began to cry. ―Habibi I missed you to death! Elias why…‖ ―…Drina he doesn’t have the direct conscious of Wisam, our science hasn’t allowed us to over come

A Short by Anthony DelValle Drina was clinging to her bed, refusing to live. She couldn’t carry on without her beloved, and the servants plead with her resume her daily routines at the office. But their cries stayed as dead as her lost love. ―You should phone Elias. He is her dearest friend. Maybe he can bring her out of this depression.‖ Elias agreed he would come to see her. He went forth on the jet to America worried at the horrid condition his best friend was in. He hoped she would have not fallen so deep. But knew it was to happen. She loved her boyfriend too dearly to carry on as if nothing had happened. He had always told her to control her obsessive nature, but she had in past and present, remained unchanged. He finally arrived greatly worried; his emotions grew worse as the time passed. He knew she was to ask him a favor. A favor that was desperate. And he knew his heart would not allow him to deny her. He walked into her dark room, which had an atmosphere of isolation and hopelessness. He then gently hung over her and touched her gently, ―Drina?‖ ―Elias! You came! Oh! I am so miserable! Oh he was so beautiful! It was so hard to get him then when I did! He is taken from me! For once in my whole damn life I placed love for a person in life and look where it got me.‖ Drina embraced Elias, causing him to lose his breath, he could feel her misery and grime future in his abdomen. ―You will survive this. It’s miserable now. But you always come to good graces.‖ ―No I won’t. I am going to die! I can feel it I need him back! Here with me! That’s why I need you! The company can help me. You’ve been experimenting with cloning. You can bring him back!‖ ―No, oh no Drina we can’t! A few have done this and it’s not a guarantee. The clones we have are for organs, the clients don’t use the actual clones themselves.‖ ―You have to. It can be done! I am the top shareholder in the company. You must!‖ ―But Drina! His family would not allow this, it goes against their beliefs, how will you explain this

Dubai+islands+of+the+world found at

The Guild Scroll

Victor Valley College that obstacle. But he will be like him in every way. He just has to grow emotionally, mentally. ―Wisam this is your fiancée Drina, you two have been together for a long time. He’s being shy, it will go away.‖ Elias and Drina set off to the airport with the Clone, they were surrounded by a myriad of security, and they drove fast down the streets of Shanghai weaving through traffic. They rushed to the corporate jet and set off for Dubai. The large palace became a lively palace, as it was before Wisam’s death. The Clone was developing mentally at an astonishing rate. Even better, Elias’s concerns the clone that the would not fall in love with Drina were false. As did the original, the Clone too had the same love for Drina. Elias resided in the palace to ensure the safety and health of the Clone and to keep Drina company; since it was only the three of them. They played on the private beach and swam daily. One of the domestic staff was watching the news, ―Today Elitist News, Drina De Vane, the pretty billionaire, has been seen on her private island in Dubai playing with someone who exactly resembles her dead boyfriend Wisam! And we have the sexy photos to prove it! Also we have more radical right winged speeches from Hager against the biotechnology giant Deira Pharmaceuticals. Later in the show we will discuss The International Police reasons for an investigation, of Deira pharmaceuticals.‖ ―Drina! Elias! Forgive my interruption, but the news reports an investigating in your company!‖ After talking with their attorneys they realized they had to protect the Clone, and find a way to protect them from being arrested and seek more allies. Drina, ―Elias InterPol is looking for me! How could they have known anything? ―I don’t know. This can’t be.‖ ―Oh no I think it’s that fat oaf!‖ ―Who, is it the reverend?‖ ―Yes! It that bloody Texan! Oh he’s always spoke negatively of me and the company, remember last September?‖ ―I do. Well we have to fight back, or we will lose everything.‖ Drina finally obtained her loved one from the grave and gave him life, now she had to find a way to keep that miracle alive.

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"Though these flowers be but bashful by nature, they seem to have stirred up the wrath of the great alien race." ―Alien Invasion‖ by Robert Copu (Deviant art: ~RobertCopu)

The Balloon


A Micro by: Chere Smith The balloon broke away grabbing Laura’s attention. Panicking, her sister screamed. ―What do we do?!‖ ―What do you mean?‖ Laura glanced out the window at the black disks spinning rapidly, and the world in terrified motion. ―We should have done something a long time ago.‖ She watched the balloon reach its limit. POP!

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Victor Valley College

Poem and All Pictures By Joy Hmura

Drowning in the Water-Well


The anchorage holds despite shifting sands; built pettily by ignorance own hand. Assurance rests within the blessed still. The anchorage holds because harbored will. Toxicity resigns against limestone walls, where oceans content in the midst of it all.

The Cross

Thirsting tongues draw their venom from the swell, where whirling eddies fill their poisoned well. Opaque steel encapsulates such tomb, Where waters, free-ranged, torrent for room.

The Stage

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Contradictions in the Bible? (G) A Short Essay by Wadmar Miguel The Holy Bible is the most read, criticized, and attacked piece of literature in the world. There are various reasons why hostility so popular towards the scriptures. Could it be its bluntness? Its length? Its ability to change lives? Or how about its complexity? It comes with such ease to assail the content in this Book (when there is a lack of clarity for its meanings), instead of opening oneself for further exploration of it. One of many forms of strategic bombardment on the Bible is the claim for there being numerous contradictions in its teachings. For example, verses in the book of Romans seem to contradict certain verses in the book of James. Is man justified for addressing this notion before God by works or by faith? The author of Romans, Paul, is explaining (in Romans 4:2-5) that a man is justified before God by his faith and Paul, as well as James, use the example of the story of Abraham (in the Old Testament; Genesis 22:1-19) which tells that he nearly sacrifices his only son to God. Although it was never God’s will for such a sacrifice to be made; it was only a test of faith. The contradiction lies in the words that are found in verse five of chapter four in the book of Romans, which state: ―But to him who does not work but believes in Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is accounted for righteousness…‖ Now, let us consider the verse in the book of James 2:24, where the author, James, states, ―You see then that a man is justified by works, and not by faith only.‖ If both these verses were taken out of context and compared next to each other then it is easy to say that they contradict each other. However, by exploring the verses before and after James 2:24 and Romans 4:5, it is evident that they are both nearly two different lectures yet one is adding to the teachings of the other. First, in Romans 3:20, Paul states, ―Therefore by the deeds of the law no flesh will be justified in His sight, for by the law is the knowledge of sin,‖ here, the ―deeds of the law‖ is the ―work‖ which Paul is referring to in Romans 4:5 and the purpose of the law is not justification but demonstration of man’s sin. Also, these ―deeds of the law‖ are the human efforts to follow biblical law, without fail, in order to be justified before God. Thus, Paul then states in Romans 3:28, ―Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith apart from the deeds of the law.‖ So then, why is a man ―justified by faith‖? Paul answers by quoting King Solomon in Romans 3:10 from the book of Ecclesiastes (in the Old Testament), ―There is none righteous, no, not one.‖ In other words, no man or woman is capable of fully keeping the law of God. (On a side note, in Romans 4:4, Paul is using sarcasm to illustrate that no man is righteous before God by explaining that if a man worked to be

―Crows & Celtic Cross‖ By David Whittingham

(DeviantArt: Coigach) righteous, then ―the wages are not counted as grace but as debt‖; God cannot owe anyone because He is man’s Creator. Genesis 1:26-27). Furthermore, Paul states, ―…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, being justified freely by His grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus…‖ (Romans 3:23-24). Lastly, in James 2:18, the author James says, ―… Show me your faith without your works, and I will show you my faith by my works,‖ in essence, he means to say that where there is true faith there will be fruit, there will be evidence, there will be work. This is not the same ―work‖ (the attempt to fully keep God’s law) which Paul talks about in Romans, rather, James means to say: to act on faith; illustrated with, ―Was not Abraham…justified by works when he offered Isaac his son on the altar? Do you see that faith was working together with his works, and by works faith was made perfect?‖ (James 2:21-22). For this reason, two things can be concluded: first that Paul and James are not speaking of the same ―work‖, second that the ―work‖ referred to in Romans is faithless and the ―work‖ in James is faithful. Chiefly, the ―work‖ mentioned in Romans is the attempt to fully keep God’s biblical law with no faith and the ―work‖ in James is to take action (aside from the law or not) as a result to having faith.

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drunkenly. Taking him by both forearms you pull him up out of the car. The car is a complete wreck. ―I’m pretty sure it’s totaled. Ha! And I thought I was the best driver this side of the Mississippi!‖ you say, trying to Guiding the car through a curve as you cruise along, you lighten the mood some. Marcus does not make a sound. You think back to the only disappointment of the entire trip: She was were never any good at making people laugh. the most beautiful blackjack dealer you ever saw. Glancing over at him, you notice an orange hue reflecting ―How do you approach a casino dealer, anyways?‖ You off his skin. Marcus only stares like he’s in a trance. You turn whisper to yourself, not meaning to speak aloud. You shake to see what he is looking at. your head in disappointment. You didn’t even try to sp—. Off in the distance you see it. You look past the desert and The brightest light you have ever seen in your life suddenly over the mountains, off towards the southwest. It’s by far the consumes your entire consciousness. It is not pleasant. It turns most incredible thing you have ever seen: A massive fireball, the night brighter than day. Your eyes sting like your retinas are rising high into the heavens. It spreads out slowly, as a myriad in a hot skillet. Forming a duet, both you and your passenger of fluorescent, fiery colors swirl within its protruding cascade scream out in pain and surprise. of waves. High into the sky it is rising, dissipating any natural ―What is that?‖ You think as you squeeze your eyes shut as cloud formations in the night sky. It begins building a monfar as they will go, to no avail. strous, pillar-like cloud formation of its own. ―What is that!?‖ You hear Marcus yell. ―What the fuck is Around the rising mushroom cloud is an angry molten that!?!‖ glow, enriching the night sky. It almost seems as if the sun de―Ahh! I… I don’t know!‖ you reply, trying to cover your cided to change direction and come back up the way it had eyes with one hand, while you hold on to the wheel with the gone. But this was no regression of the sunset. other. ―We got bombed, huh?‖ Marcus whispers, almost as if All your efforts are useless. acknowledging defeat. The white light, so brilliant and After a long moment of staring powerful, displays every single at death, you finally reply, bone in your hand, as clearly as ―Yeah, it looks that way. That an x-ray. You feel the car clip looks like Los Angeles.‖ something and the vehicle beYou glance at the smashed up gins to spin. You can barely start car that is lying upside-down. to make out your spinning surEven if it was upright, what roundings as the strange light were the chances you could begins to fade away. outrun something like that? The car spins and spins beA strange wind kicks up out of fore it loses its center of gravity. the southwest. A tingling sensaThe car flips over suddenly and tion assaults your skin. It’s like grinds slowly to a stop. With bathing in intense static electricyour world suddenly upsideity. Then it starts getting hot. down, you take inventory of all ―Who do you think attacked your limbs. ―Mark! Marcus!‖ us?‖ You call out, unbuckling your ―At this point, what difference seatbelt. It dumps you onto the does it make?‖ Marcus replies, roof. You fall into dirt, spare choking up on his words. Tears change and broken glass. are streaming down his face. Carefully, you crawl Both of you are staring off at through the window space and the incoming multi-megaton make your way around to MarFat Man's Mushroom Cloud Over Nagasaki inferno that was born over the cus. ―Marcus!‖ you yell through city of Los Angeles. For some (Aug. 9, 1945) his shattered window. strange reason you wish you Courtesy of ―I’m alright.‖ he says would Continued on page 13

A Night of Brilliance (PG) A Short by Michael Moore

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It's old welfare building near my house. People who living in it are poor and don't care about it , the only think they care about is how to stay alive the next day. This building is... a perfect portrait of them self. Just try to survive...―Mansion― by Kamil Bartłoszewski (Deviant Art: Riffo)

Life at the Estate: Chapter 1 of S.O.G. Life A Short by Michael Davis


It was a beautiful day at the S.O.G Estate. Birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and the flowers at the garden were in full bloom. The team, without a few others, were playing around outside. The team consisted of several warriors of different elements living together in a mansion, waiting for crime to act up, but lately, nothing has happened, so now they just hang around and do nothing special. Inside the Estate, it was nice and quiet without the S.O.G. It was tranquil until the sound of a vacuum cleaner blared upstairs. Matt Aeros and Izzy Gokudo were in their shared room, talking about human cyborgs when they heard the sound. "Who the heck would work on this day?!" Matt yelled. Izzy grumbled a bit. "I'm going to teach them a lesson in silence, painfully." The Plasma User said as both leaders opened the door and looked in the hall. There, they saw Maya operating a crimson Hoover vacuum cleaner. She was humming along, cleaning up the crumbs people left behind. The mess was from last night, after everyone had a muffin fight. No one won. Matt stood back, remembering how dangerous Maya gets, but Izzy went to confront her. He looked as mad as he could get. "Maya, are you mad?! Some of us are trying to-" But before he could continue, she grabbed his neck. Matt hid behind the doorway as Izzy tried to scramble, but the dragon warrior pulled him down easily to eye level. Izzy gulped and saw the demonic fury in her eyes. "Listen Izzy," She hissed, "This place is a mess, and some people have to clean it! While you laze about with Matt and while the others are outside, I'm working my socks off! So, unless you want this vacuum cleaner shoved up your nether regions, I suggest you help or go back to your room and shut up!" Continued on page 17

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How I Learned to Fly Micro by Micah Raimo


Alex took two steps from the curb. Next, he was back behind the curb. There was a lot of pain and dizziness. The white Jeep had hit him, pulled over, and flashed his emergency blinkers. Alex shook away some of the pain, closed his eyes, slowed down the event. The vehicle sped around the corner. He saw nothing but the square headlights and white paint. He turned, took a quick half breath, and the front light grazed his belly. The tire rolled over his boot, locking him in place. Alex curled over the pale hood and rebounded back to the hard dirt like a discarded marionette. His chest, shins, and hands pulsed. None of his wounds were internal. Experience with various inju-

Sept. 23, 2011 Page 11 ries had left their jagged lessons. Alex wouldn’t walk away without a guarantee.. He placed pressure on his injured leg. No snap or shift within the muscular confines. He tried to stand but the physical differential pulled him back down to the hard soil. All that was left was confusion and frustration. Alex heard the driver run over to him. ―Are you okay?‖ The stranger asked. Alex drug his eyes to his reflective image on the driver’s clear glasses. Protocol required a report, an exchange of information, hospital visit, and a phone call. Fuck protocol. He had no care for nonsense, or doctors, or people, just home. Just his bed. ―Are you Alright.‖ The stranger repeated, He aided the college student to his feet. ―Just take me home.‖

Lightning crashed down as I pressed the shutter. Thunder pounded against my chest, and as my LCD revealed the image, I was dumbstruck. ―Zues’Might‖ By Evan Ludes (Deviant Art: Billyunderscorebwa)

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Sunsets always manage to pass me by, I'm never busy; merely ignorant. This one however, caught my eye. Seeing such beauty truly makes me feel insignificant. ―Sunset Silhouette‖ by Rebecca Hullah (Deviant Art: Miss-Boolah)

Restless Night By: Jordan O’Guynn


JUNE RESOLUTION By Judith Pfeffer Summer

It’s in the night where I think of you. Though my heart is held above me, the things you said, are like wine stains in which I know nothing about. The scars that I thought were healed, reveal hope like a curtain slowly opening. In that, your heart, The holder my heart, is enough to make me believe. There's more to break ups then just coping

We need your plan Up to the measure Time to find your center Without all the Greek tragedy Enter all new You’ll witness the beauty and power Helpless never ever ever


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Letters to Wonderland


A Poem by Carol Wilson My Dearest Rabbit, I never got a chance to thank you for the amazing adventure in Wonderland. Seeing you running through my garden, wearing your best dress coat, and your sparkling brown eyes, that made me chase you down into the rabbit hole. Seeing the upside down things that started this magical journey, meeting off-the-wall residents that live there: the singing flowers in the wonderful gardens, going to the crazy tea parties with the Mad Hatter dancing around the table singing “Clean cup, move down!”, and playing croquet with the Red Queen and the poor dizzy hedgehogs. I feel sorry for you my friend, always running late for a very important date. You run this way and that to the Red Queen and back. Her childish tantrums over not getting her way. “Off with their heads!” is her only reply. I would rather not die for your love but the Red Queen has you in her fingers. Then off you race, to the White Queen. Who you believe all sugar and sweet, that no one can compare. To please her is your only goal, so you search high and low, but instead you find me. Alice, a stranger in this Wonderland, with my blue jeans and white t-shirt a blue ribbon in my hair blowing in a strange wind. I stand surrounded by darkness and light, trying to understand what is wrong and right. Chasing you in this world trying to find my way back, but with all good adventures there is a lesson to learn. The lesson of myself who I am and not who I was. Coming out of that rabbit hole I have found that there is always someone crazier than me. That I am contently growing and learning as a woman, that life and love are what we make it. So my friend thanks for the wild ride. I hope in meeting me, you have learned a lesson as well. Goodbye my friend; Love, Alice

Brilliance on Pg 9 have spoken to that girl in the casino, the blackjack dealer. You wonder why you didn’t just go for it. Seeing death right in front of you makes being too nervous to speak to a beautiful girl seem absolutely absurd. Suddenly there is terrible heat. There is fierce wind and fire. There is only excruciating pain. The world turns yellow, and then black.

'If you write one story, it may be bad; if you write a hundred, you have the odds in your favor.' William Hazlitt

Learn about what’s going on around campus! Get your words and photos in front of thousands! Take Journalism 108 in the Fall 2011 Semester! Class meets 5:30 to 8:30 p.m. every M & W -4 units transferable to CSU campuses (One pre-req: Must be eligible to take English 101) For details, call 760-508-2165 today Or send email to

―My Name is Alice‖ By Emma Stewart (DeviantArt:XxKipetu-AkoraxX)

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Victor Valley College Art, Poem and Short Story By Emma Stewart

Summer Solstice The Short Story


Sept. 23, 2011 Page 14

A wave of cold air splashed over my hand and sent shivers down my spine. I shuddered and began to feel the wind slithering in from the creaks and crevasses of my window slowly fade into a thick, warm blanket of humidity. I made it.

The sun blinded me but I didn’t care, at least I could feel it again. It’s warmth was so comforting I smiled without noticing. ―Ayu!‖ I heard a voice call. I opened my eyes and scoured the grassy fields for a familiar face to match the voice to. ―Ayu!‖ I turned around and saw him at the cliff waving. I squinted and put my hand up to block the sun. He smiled and yelled laughing, ―Come on Ayu!‖ I smiled in return and ran to him holding my hat so it wouldn’t fly away yelling. ―Katari!‖ Everything Seemed to go in slow motion except my heart, it raced. The clouds stood still, the wind gently eased by as if it were being emitted by a heater in winter wilderness, defrosting all the beautiful flowers, plants, streams and life that the warm air passed on its journey as it smoothly floated by. The sunlight’s beams sparkled and made everything in its path glow like magic. Even the tiny specks in the air that we hardly ever notice stood out like faeries dancing in blissful harmony choreographed by the love that embodied them all. Twinkles filled my eyes, all I saw was him. I finally reached him and as we embraced all the time that had slowed for those brief moments came speeding back all at once. The wind threw us both to the ground and we tumbled into the plush, vibrant grass. Our faces were wet with tears. Whether they were both our tears or just mine that may have wet his face in our embrace I still don’t know. All that mattered was that he was here, and that meant everything would be better again. We giggled and laid side by side staring up at the clouds. ―Ayu,‖ Katari started sadly. I turned to him bewildered. ―What took you so long?‖ His voice was filled with more sadness than the tears that overflowed from his eyes and drifted down his blushing cheeks. He despondently continued, ―Did you forget me Ayu?‖ The stainless steel silver shade faded from his eyes to a lifeless gray. I felt a pang in my heart strike like a bullet from a gun. I tried to speak but I was choking on the throes of my passionate affections. ―How could you ask such a silly question?!‖ I spat out, trying not to sound dejected as I jokingly elbowed his side. He laughed from the blow as I sat up on my side to face him. He’s always been ticklish, I remembered.

Rainbow Love Garden. Deviant Art: XxKipetu-AkoraxX

I seized the moment of his vulnerability to take as much advantage of him as possible. I pounced on him and sprung

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Sept. 23, 2011 Page 15

Victor Valley College

into a tickling frenzy. He squirmed and squealed as if he were having a seizure. We both laughed so loud we startled the birds in the tree beside us and they flew away. I stopped tickling him and we caught our breath before it flew too far into the hot winds that were starting to cool. ―Katari, it’s getting dark.‖ I exhaled, worried. ―Oh-‖ he stopped short, ―So it is.‖ He affirmed scratching his head, smiling nervously. I jumped to my feet when I saw how low the sun was getting. ―Katari!‖ I gasped. Before he could respond I pulled him to his feet by his wrist, and holding my hat with my other hand ran toward the cliff the sun was escaping beneath. ―The sunset!‖ I exclaimed. Katari ran faster and began to pull me after he passed me. I was reminded of fast of a runner he was. We reached the cliff and I released his wrist lifelessly. We were frozen; stupefied almost. The sunset paralyzed us in our awkward stances. I was so mesmerized by all the glorious colors I didn’t even notice Katari had sat down. He tugged the edge of my shirt to tear me from the trance the sunset had lured me into. I sat next to him and sighed in awe. ―How beautiful.‖ I whispered in amazement. I examined the colors that blurred and faded perfectly together by the miracles of nature’s artistic vision. The sun illuminated all that surrounded it. The sea, the clouds, even the planets, stars, meteorites and other beings in the vastness of space were aglow. The blackness of space faded the colors in the sky into a transparent dome; as if it erased them completely. Like an artist erasing a masterpiece they’ve just created only to reveal another work of worlds beyond the single image they’d envisioned. That’s why sunsets made me sad sometimes. I feel like I’m losing something. I guess I’m not good with change. Or maybe I just over-think things. The sea started to swallow the sun as I felt Katari’s hand slowly slide onto mine and gently entangle our fingers. My cheeks grew hot, I was blushing. I was afraid to look at him so I tried to pretend I hadn’t noticed his hand in mine. I could feel his eyes looking at me. I closed my eyes tightly, bashful. I felt his smirk when he said flirtatiously, ―Ayu, have you forgotten my body as well?‖ He leaned closer. I felt his heated breath against my neck and then on my ear. I trembled with torrid embarrassment. He whispered with ardent desire, ―I haven’t forgotten yours.‖ He kissed my ear and I gasped, jumping out of my skin. I mustered up the courage to look at him as the sun escaped completely beneath the blanket of the sea. His silver eyes shone like mercury, glistening amongst the lights of the universe. I could hardly contain myself.



A Poem Life stops. . . The sounds of life fade into a mute existence, Adrenaline breaks free of logic's resistance. Time twirls slowly as the world spins, He smiles. My fascination begins. His eyes glow with gentle devotion, My heart pounds with fragile emotion. The sun shines and highlights his rapture, A beauty that no light could properly capture. Affable in every essence of his sweet nature, A precarious aura I equivocate to wager. An electric lure much too conductive, Like a tiger, smooth and seductive. Hair in an erotic mess, intensely alluring, Provocative, cravings in my heart, stirring. My lungs flutter, aroused, my lips softly suspire, Enveloping my body in a searing flame of desire. A fragment of your lustful scent teases my senses, As the threads of my tapering self control tenses. Your smile beckons pulsing sensations, amorous. Blush heats my face with yearnings so lascivious. My knees quivering with lucid carnal need. His lips glisten with an enticing demand to feed. His hand at his side, tempting me to hold with mine. Feel his body with an alluring ecstasy supremely divine. Time spirals back into the rate of the world's norm. Once again, his presence has taken me by storm. I look to the ground to suppress my yearn. Now, I realize my body will never learn. Every time I see him, my world stops. . life focuses on him. He's all I see and I can't help but let my admiration win. Because without his smile, his addictive disposition. I'm lost, yearning for his love, in this toxic rendition.

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Victor Valley College

Angelica ―River Bank‖ (DeviantArt: xxkeepbreathingxx)

The Big Fish (G) Micro by Brandon Smith The water rippled as the line tugged, the man’s keen eyes shot to the point. He slowly, yet firmly, pulled back enough to give his game some fight. His friend Ben, standing only ten yards off stood still and quiet. ―Careful Frank, easy, don’t lose him.‖ he said cautiously. ―I got him.‖ replied Frank still watching the line, afraid to look away. The line pulled harder, and harder, Frank began to count. ―One, two, three!‖ he yelled as he pulled on the rod and reeled in the line fast. But it wouldn’t reel in, so he loosened his pull a little bit, and tried again. It began to reel and he pulled the rod back again. ―It sure is putting up a fight!‖ said Frank. ―It looks like it! Don’t let it go! Keep at it,‖ said Ben fighting. ―I almost have him! I almost have him!‖ yelled Frank.―Get the net, quick!‖ and out of the lake came this little four inch fish. Ben came running up with

the net, and stopped as he saw the little fish still fighting the line. ―Frank! You got one for the books!‖ said Ben, laughing so hard he had to sit down. ―You shut up! And don’t tell anyone about this! You hear me? Not one word!‖ Ben managed to nod as he laughed harder. ―Now kids, don’t tell your grandpa I told you this story, he would never forgive me!‖ ―No, we won’t Uncle Ben, we won’t.‖

“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.” ~E.L. Doctorow

The Guild Scroll

Victor Valley College Secrets of The Wall of Rome (R-13) Poem by Micah Raimo

I buried my brother today. He was given a proper funeral. His son, Sienus, curled his fists as his father was lowered into the vault. He knew the truth. As I did. Should I kill my own nephew? I felt no guilt for murdering my brother. I hid the secrets of the Wall of Rome I killed my brother last night. He told me that he could do the unthinkable. I did not believe him. He did it to challenge me. Before he died, I broke his ribs. His Jaw. I choked his life away. Felt his body grow cold in my hands. I retained the secret. I destroyed the man who had beaten me. I had killed my brother defending the Wall of Rome. I had taken my sons and my nephew to Remus’ grave. He was buried under The Wall of Rome. With his secrets to defeat the impenetrable. Along with the Wall's, forbidden dips and divots of its bricks. And buried with my secrets. He always said, ―The undefeated can be conquered.‖ So I killed my brother. And he defeated me. He whispered to me from his grave. Always reminded me of my crime. Nonetheless, Remus was buried with the secrets underneath The Wall of Rome.

“Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” ~Anton Chekhov

Sept. 23, 2011 Page 17

Estate on Pg: 10 Izzy nodded weakly, as the grip on his throat was finally loosened. Maya went off with a growl, turning around the corner with the vacuum blaring. Matt couldn't help himself from laughing at Izzy's failure, being scared of Maya and running to hide under his bed. He couldn't stop himself especially when there was a flash of fire and a yelp of pain, along with the roaring of, "If I catch you outside of Dawn’s room again, I’ll shove grenades down your throat!" Ah, the daily funnies at S.O.G Estate.

Fresco in The Villa of Mysteries on Pompeii illustrating the Right of passage in the Cult of Dionysus yet its true meaning remains a mystery. Painted 80 B.C. (Photo Courtesy of

“I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for life that gnaws in us all.” ~Richard Wright, American Hunger, 1977

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Victor Valley College

Sept. 23, 2011 Page 18

Staff of The Issue

I’ve learned a lot about writing since I joined the Guild of Creative Writers. I like to play with genres by writing short stories and poems. I enjoy reading others’ work for the enjoyment of it and for inspiration. I write in a wide array of style to accommodate all readers and ages. My words are nice, simple, and eclectic.

Brandon Smith

As Guild President, I am honored to be part of a staff that brought this literary journal to life. The Guild Scroll Micah Raimo has been in my heart since the Guild was established. Now, it is here. I am a VVC business major who writes Modern Fantasy and High Fantasy fiction alike. This, coupled with short stories of various genres and poetry, leaves me with pure unadulterated freedom.

I’m also known as, Kipetu Akora. I joined this guild over the summer and have found it to be a place of fun, artistic people bursting with vivid ideas and literary imaginative

Emma Stewart

masterpieces. Mine include: poetry, photo-manipulation, Short stories, and drawing. I hope our

artistic endeavors encourage, as well as entertain your creative daemon. If not there’s always plan B: cupcakes and show-tunes! Ganbatte! (Do your best/You can do it).

I have been going to Victor Valley ColCarol Wilson lege , majoring in Business Administration pretty much to nail a great job. I write Paragraph poems and Fantasy short stories. I am also Secretary of the Guild of Creative Writers and the managing editor of the Guild Scroll, which, was a fun experience. I began writing when I was in English 50 during the fall semester of 2010. I have always enjoyed reading, and it has helped me along the way. My passion seeped into my writing. Although I have not written very many papers myself, the process itself takes practice and I always find myself improving. I really enjoyed working with others to make this publication possible. May you always write with your heart, and be proud.

Monique Ballard

.I have always

had a strong zeal for writing and giving Anthony Del Valle verbal stories to my fans. My literary works are the wealthy elites in a novella genre. I am a member in the Guild of Creative Writers. My major is business, in the future I plan on establishing my own biotechnology company.

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Victor Valley College

Letters from the Editors

Letter from Monique Ballard:

From Carol Wilson:

The Guild Scroll staff and members of The Guild

Thank you, for taking the time to read the Guild

of Creative Writers, would like to thank our readers

Scroll. As one of the editors of the Scroll, I can tell you

for having an interest in our publication. We hope

that a lot of hard work, and love for writing went into it.

that it encourages writers from any level to pursue

From the writers of all wonderful stories and poems to the

their interest in writing. I would like to specially

construction of the Scroll itself, the work and attention

thank those that have put a lot of time, and dedica-

placed into this literary journal was as much as those who

tion to make this publication possible, as it is our

turned in their work. The Scroll’s purpose is not only to

first. We hope that you will continue to find our pub-

promote writing and to unite all writers here at Victor

lication of special interest, as this will be ongoing

Valley College, but also around the world. The Guild

semester project. May our publication serve as an

Scroll is here to encourage, inspire, and show what we as

inspiration to those who wish to write, or fulfill your

a campus have to offer the world as artists in our own

reading enjoyment.

right. As one writer to another, I hope that the Guild Scroll has encouraged you to write more, and inspires confidence in your own writing. If you need a critical eye, please give us a call. Thank you again for your time and love of the written word.



Editor-in Chief: Carol Wilson Assistant Editor-in- Chief: Monique Ballard Managing Editor: Emma Stewart Copy Editor: Emma Stewart Micro (Short Shorts) Editor: Anthony Del Valle, Brandon Smith Article/ Essay Editor: Anthony Del Valle, Micah Raimo Poem Editor: Brandon Smith, Emma Stewart Short Story Editor: Carol Wilson, Micah Raimo Picture Editor: Emma Stewart, Micah Raimo Layout: Micah Raimo Adviser: Judith Pfeffer Financial Adviser: Carl Durheim III

Victor Valley College and is published as a club effort to expand the culture of

The Guild Scroll is a product of the Guild of Creative Writers Club at the Victor Valley College in Victorville, Calif. Issues come out approximately six times a year and is published every two months. The intersession issues are published the beginning of the fallowing term. Generally, each January, February March, August, October, and November, for a total of 6 issues each calendar year. The Guild Scroll welcomes Art of various mediums, Short Stories, Micros (or Short Shorts), Poetry, Essays and articles from both the students and the public. Submit proposed items to the on-campus mailbox of Guild of Creative Writers club mailbox. Or, email them to ADVERTISING The Guild Scroll generally accepts as advertising only 8 ½ - by – 11 – inch flyers as

CONTACT INFORMATION: Victor Valley College ASB office: Guild of Creative Writers VVC Guild Scroll 18422 Bear Valley Road, Victorville, CA 92395 Email:

inserts. The cost is $90, which covers insertion/distribution of 500 copies. The cost and responsibility of designing, reproducing and delivering the 500 flyers to the ASB office of Victor Valley College is borne by the advertiser. To discuss display advertising options or to purchase any form of advertisement, call Guild of Creative Writers Club President at 760-780-5839. Acceptance of any advertisement in the Guild Scroll does not constitute endorsement by the paper, college, district, board, council or student body. The Guild Scroll reserves the right to reject any material - advertising or


editorial – that it deems to be not in keeping with the standards of the paper.

The Guild Scroll

Victor Valley College

Sept 23, 2011 Page 20

The First Guild of Creative Writers Logo by Maggie Cogan

Guild Scroll Isue 1  

This scroll was put ogether by a club of writers who want to express themselves in the field of writing. Issue 1 has no theme but expresses...