Creations 2022 Literary Magazine

Nostalgia

Creations 2022

“River of Knowledge” by Ava Suarez, 12, Mixed Media

C r e at i o n s Volume 44 - 2022

Warren Township High School Gurnee, IL 60031 www.d121.org/creations

Dear Reader

Nostalgia: A sentimentality longing or wistful affection for the past.

Etymology: Greek - “nostos” meaning return or home, and “algos” meaning pain.

A sense of returning overwhelms the soul when experiencing a moment from the past. Stillness is an impossibility in life, so our excessive yearning for what has once occurred but will never again is achingly unexplainable. But one can also feel nostalgic for something that has not yet happened.

This year’s theme, Nostalgia, stems from the idea of people, places, and ideas of the past, present, and future because, at one point, every moment we have lived will become history.

Despite being the last sense to develop after birth, sight is what imprints the most vivid memories on us. It is how we recall information, how we keep ourselves safe. Things I’ve Seen includes pieces highlighting vision and instances of how what we see truly changes us.

Each interaction with another person shapes us and makes our personality into what it is. Constantly shifting and evolving, People I’ve Known illuminates how who we’ve known thoroughly influences who we are.

Good and bad experiences create our narrative, some more known than others. What I’ve Been Through contains art showing how we cannot forget what’s happened but should take from it what we can and grow.

Finally, Where I Will Go culminates in places metaphorical and literal; the peace of finding yourself, the comfort of finding home, the joy of trying something new. The future is inevitable, unknown, hopeful. These instances too, will one day be the subject of fond reminiscence.

On the cover: “Nostalgia” by Ava Suarez, 12, Drawing

“Garmin Running Lanes” by Osvaldo Bandera, 12, Photography

Table of contents

Things I’ve Seen Osvaldo Bandera 3 Alyssa Cash 4 Eshelle Zeeshan 5 Chrissy Abobon 5 Ava Suarez 6 Jammie Arroyo 8 Faith Sammons 9 Katelin Galardi 10 Robert Remedi 10 Logan McLeod 11 Lisa Kuriakose 12 Mariana Martinez 13 Logan McLeod 14 Tyler Jaimes 16 Logan Mullen 17 Allyah Trujillo 18 Trinity Smith 19 Leslie Lopez 20 Lindsey Ibarra 21 Shatayla Gaydden 22 Marco Ruiz 23 Emilia Cobb 24 Anonymous 25 Isabella Solano 26 Kylee Wiltse 27 Annette Prado 28 Jammie Arroyo 29 Ty Perusky 29 Anonymous 30 Rachel Flores-Mangaran 31

Brianna Flaschner 35 Jasmine Morkeh 36 Alyssa Cash 37 Mylene Morales 38 Minahil Nadeem 39 Omar Tenorio 40 Fatima Naveed 40 Vanssa Avila 41 Grace Liu 42 Kyla Lau 44 Anthony Cervantes 45

People I’ve Known Nina Braza 32 Ember Hagan 33 Lexi Spencer 34

“Last Dance” by Alyssa Cash, 12, Mixed Media

What I’ve Been Through

77 78

“Colorful Childhood” by Chrissy Abobon, 11, Digital Drawing

Where I Will Go Amy Kostadinov 66 Abeni Garner 67 Samantha Habiba 68 Sydney Wightman 69 Arriana Jereos 70 Addi Lindo 71 Alexis Tatum 72 Robert Remedi 72 Kashmala Yousafzai 73 Fatima Naveed 74 Jasmine Morkeh 75 Kahlia Williams 76 Carol Manilay 76

Table of contents

Czarlize Jereos 46 Marcos Ruiz 48 Kate Nisnian 48 Anonymous 49 Grace Fajardo 50 Chase Umansky 51 Hiba Naqvi 52 Carol Manilay 53 Nooreen Ahmed 54 GeriAnn Kelly 55 Skylar Turner 56 Lauren Rhodes 57 Gavin Lipinski 58 Mariana Martinez 59 Avery Ullrich 61 Michela Schenk 62 Jodi Mendoza 62 Carol Manilay 63 Cinder Roeder 65

Lauren Rhodes Fatima Naveed

“Picture Day” by Eshelle Zeeshan, 9, Digital Drawing Nostalgia~Creations~5

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“Life Behind Tinted Glass “ by Ava Suarez, 12, Drawing

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Things I’ve Seen~Creations~7

“Pretty Boy” by Jammie Arroyo, 12, Digital Painting

“Sweet Summer Nights” by Faith Sammons, 12, Photography

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“Red-Breasted Nuthatch” By Robert Remedi, 11, Photography

“Jaguar” by Katelin Galardi, 12, Photography

“The Ram” by Logan McLeod,11, Photography>

Things I’ve Seen~Creations~11

“Color” by Lisa Kuriakose, 11, Photography

C o mpan ies i n J u n e Mariana Martinez, 12 Soap dispensers Disinfectant wipes Lotion And shirts They decide June is the time to add color Apply a superficial rainbow to a superficial item Smile and claim friendship Try to speak like us and shadow us Appeal to us with their thorny rose Then july begins and they present their backs Forget our names and preach our sins But soon June will begin again and the colors will emerge Their smiling faces will be shown once more But I don’t want your smiles I Don’t want your washed out colors I don’t want your claim of friendship I don’t want your rose unless it doesn’t have thorns

Things I’ve Seen~Creations~13

“The Bite of the Wolf ” by Logan McLeod, 11, Photography

M y Ba by Net fli x Tyler Jaimes, 12 Netflix is the little pet you need to give attention to and love to keep tame. I acquired my new pet some years ago. It was so sweet and I played with it on special occasions. Even my family and friends would join me to give it the affection it craved. After a while, the pet would call out and snarl if it didn’t have its fix of love. Netflix would howl throughout the night or if it saw someone having a boring day. The more I played with it the more it grew in size. It would require more hours of the day to be satisfied.

Rather than just one it required three or even four! I couldn’t do any other tasks when I was taking care of sweet lil’ Netflix. It would get aggravated if I even tried to use the bathroom. One day, Netflix gave birth to a litter of puppies. They all needed care and affection just like Netflix. I named them Hulu, Youtube, and Tik Tok Sooner or later, I found my days becoming shorter and shorter. Netflix was the center of it all. Netflix had all of my attention and love for the entire day. I didn’t have time to eat, sleep, play outside, or hangout with friends. The group slowly made their way to gaining the attention of everyone in the house. My mother cared for Hulu all day. My baby brother showered Youtube with love all day.

Tik tok the rascal found his way out and I heard he is shared by lots of kids at the school all day. Everything is going so dandy and sweet. I love my lil’ Netflix and he loves me.

Things I’ve Seen~Creations~16

“Destruction” by Logan Mullen, 10, Photography

Things I’ve Seen~Creations~17

“It All Makes Sense” by Allyah Trujillo, 12, Mixed Media

“The Woods” by Trinity Smith, 12, Mixed Media

“Life of a Clown” by Leslie Lopez, 12, Digital Design Things I’ve Seen~Creations~20

“Now You’re Watching” by Lindsey Ibarra, 12, Painting Things I’ve Seen~Creations~21

“Hallow” by Shatayla Gyaden , 12, Ceramics

Lo o kin g o ut fo r you Marco Ruiz, 12

It always seems that you look right through me I’m always around you, but do you even care?

It’s hard not being appreciated, especially lately I’m just looking out for you, I’ll always be there When I become the most invisible to you You love seeing through me in the winter The snow in your eyes always looks new But the pain inside me, string like a splinter You close me up in the summer, always keeping me shut My back becomes scorched as my face is cooled down You sit inside, reading or watching TV, you just stay put Even during those morning rains, you wouldn’t care if I drowned I’m always looking out for you, but you just stare I’m always looking out for you, because no one else does I’m always looking out for you, but you were never there I was always looking out for you, until you broke me Until that accident, I always was

Things I’ve Seen~Creations~23

“Cold Shoulder” by Emilia Cobb, 12, Photography

T he M oder at e Guard Anonymous, 12 Art thou now so fast asleep Slumped against thy post, Pushing back the helping hands In thy slumbering pose?

Wherefore art thou standing still While the hands raise up their voices?

Why do they slide down that slippery slope As thee coat it with more vices?

But wosrt of all is the vice of detachment As yea stand in the way of the hands.

Thy indifference towards their vital pleas Impedes their work with silence.

And in this silence corrupt beings grow, Slowly invading the minds of all.

Their sinister work ensnares all who can hear, But those who listen know their seeds to be empty.

And empty reasons are all they can convey, Yet still it enwraps the minds of so many.

But yea could have saved all from this fate, If thy indifference was now changed to haste.

Yet the door thy back is fluch against Cannot be opened while thee sit and gaurd it.

And so the hands must wait in vain For a change in gaurd at dawn at last.

Things I’ve Seen~Creations~25

Things I’ve Seen~Creations~26 “Wine Growler” by Isabella Solano, 12, Ceramics

“Wine Growler” by Kylee Wiltse, 12, Ceramics

Things I’ve Seen~Creations~27

“Blues” by Annette Prado, 11,Painting

“Other Side” by Ty Perusky, 12, Photography

“Assortment of Color” by Jammie Arroyo, 12, Digital Design

Things I’ve Seen~Creations~29

Things I’ve Seen~Creations~30 “Hope“ by Anonymus, 11, Photography

Se a rchi n g f o r Li g h t Rachel Flores-Mangaran, 12 Sunset falls as night crept up on its back.

The lightning bugs are starting their run on the track.

My eyes start to search for the light, But I can’t seem to see this late at night Little light bulbs pop from left to right.

Right away they disappear to a different spotlight.

Many lightning bugs my brother caught.

Many crickets I caught with sadness I brought.

My legs are running to any light that show, But as time goes by, i couldn’t help but be slow I want to give up Give up I can’t But the lightning bugs are at their finish line, they start to hide until next time Daylight awakens on time, but I’ll catch a light I can call mine Until next time

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“Passing” by Nina Braza, 12, Drawing

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T he J our neym an Far out in the freeze he wanders They say not all who wander are lost But the Journeyman knows he is far from home So deep within the frost For this blizzard has blinded his eyes And he knows that close by Death does wait But nonetheless he pushes on Through winter’s storm of hate And with each step he takes he wonders If he will even make it back Back aching from snow-gear so heavy Heavy odds against him do stack But meanwhile out in the distance Far away from his struggling form The Journeyman’s sister had just come back home Finally at a place safe and warm She was home as of two nights ago With her wife and young son once more She’d received a letter from an address unknown She had no idea what was in store She knew her brother was a Journeyman Off working far out in the snow

Ember Hagan, 12

Journeymen often vanished for months at a time And no news was good news and so Trembling hands opened the note She could barely unfold the page As she read the words scrawled in that jet black ink She practically felt herself age And she did weep, for her only brother Could be six feet under the ground For the rest of his crew was found frozen And the brother nowhere to be found She crumpled the cursed paper up in her hands And threw it right into the bin She would bring that Journeyman back, she swore This would not be the end of him And so once again she bid her goodbyes Told her son she’d be home safe soon Promised her wife that she would return Headed out into the afternoon Their futures were uncertain But these siblings shared such close ties That the Journeyman knew somehow deep inside His sister would find him under frozen skies

“Waiting” by Lexi Spencer, 9, Photography

“Waiting” by Lexi Spencer, 9, Photography People I’ve Known~Creations~34

Wh en I was li t t le...

Me an d m y si st er Brianna Flaschner, 11 Me and my older sister would watch Saturday morning cartoons And we built forts on Friday nights when we had nothing better to do.

She always reminded me of how annoying and small I was, And I guess it was true…

Because when I was little…

I used to be afraid of the dark.

I slept with a star-shaped nightlight in the middle of my room And when it stopped working I ran to my sister’s bed for refuge However Now that I am grown...

My sister and I have moved out, and we no longer live in the same home.

Going forth to exist in our newly severed lives, And during that time she befriended a kind man and even became his wife But the most surprising thing I learned from all this time apart Is that this coming spring the older sister I once knew Will become a mother to a child of her own Yes, that’s right…

I will have a nephew!

People I’ve Known~Creations~35

L i v in g wit h M y Si bli ngs Jasmine Morkeh, 11 There is a lot to miss about leaving my childhood fantasy behind to join the “real world” I’m going to miss my old teachers who I’ll never see again, I’m going to miss the stuffed toys I gave away at that garage sale when I was 10, I’m even going to miss the crowded chaos of the school bus when I’m grown.

But with all of that, I believe the thing I will miss the most...

Is spending every day with siblings while growing at home From our petty arguments to unplanned movie marathons, Even the time we got yelled at together by mom….

Sure, we may have Christmas and Thanksgiving But it’s not the same I miss the bliss and the unplanned peacefulness Of living together with my siblings

“Ghost of Soiled Matresse’s”, Alyssa Cash, 12, Painting People I’ve Known~Creations~36

People I’ve Known~Creations~37

People I’ve Known~Creations~38

“Save Your Tears” by Mylene Morales, 12, Digital Design

T he Wo rld Wi ll Kn ow Minahil Nadeem, 11 Hesitation. That slight pause as they stare down at the sheet.

I know exactly whose name they are about to call. The name they’re about to struggle with. Some even skip the first name entirely, finding the last to be the lesser of two evils. Many still braved the first, though no one ever got it right. My face would flush as the class’ curious eyes swiveled to bore me down. I used to make the effort and quickly correct the pronunciation. Middle school was the last to see those days.

People easily made heavy assumptions, a perk of the western world. Smart, glasses, naive, tryhard, epitome of nerd. Definitely speaks English with an “Indian” accent. I’m not from India.

I don’t think Justice ever made keychains for me. I never got to buy 300 watermelons in math problems either. I wasn’t mentioned in any TV shows, movies, books.

I was unique.

And I grew to love it.

My younger sister laughs and yells my name as we race down the streets on bikes. My parents praise my name as I win more academic awards. My crush repeating my name as I stand there ecstatic. My friends compliment art drawn by me. My cousins tease the failed soccer plays attempted by me. My aunts dance along to new choreography made by me.

My name has evolved, is evolving. It’s a meaningful whirlwind, looked upon differently from each aspect of my life. A combination of memories, experiences, expectations, accomplishments.

“A stream of sweet and cold water” is what it means, Minahil Nadeem is what the whole world will come to know.

People I’ve Known~Creations~39

Based on T ru e Ev en ts Fatima Naveed, 12

“Elephant” by Omar Tenorio, 11, Photography

People I’ve Known~Creations~40

When we go on our adventures, it’s like the world has paused, and there is a softening in time: an open window for us to climb through and trot across forbidden fields, hidden paths with witchy fences and sun-kissed leaves with an effervescent glow.

Here, the four seasons go backward, mosaic pieces string together like the dandelions we collect to coronate ourselves with.

And as we step out from below the tunnel, a walk that seemingly lasts forever, we hear the time we left behind catching up to us; the ripple smoothing out until we dip our toes in the timeless again.

“Arya” by Vanessa Avila, 12, Drawing

“Cherry Bomb” by Grace Liu, 12, Painting

Th e S o l itary C o m pani on Kyla Lau, 10 “The desert isn’t so bad,” the girl exclaimed.

“There’s cool wildlife and interesting… sand.”

“Sand?” the figure replied. “It is incredibly interesting,” she repeated, her sarcasm more than evident.

Dredging their feet along, the partners eventually climbed to the top of a dune and hid under the sky.

There was a chill, and the stark difference between the day and night was startling. If the girl was inexperienced, she might’ve thought they were different worlds. And perhaps that was the case, though she wouldn’t admit it.

“Standing at the edge of the universe,” the girl sighed. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she was going with someone, and that had been enough convincing for her. She watched the figure staring into the night, at the stars twinkling in rhythm.

“Fantastic conversationalist you must be.” It wasn’t an attempt at humor but rather a novel attempt to fill the accustomed silence. The figure was strange, although the girl didn’t seem to mind. Their shadows questioned whether the girl was naive or just as strange as the figure.

“There’s no need to be here.” the figure stated. That much the girl knew, but she stayed silent. Discontented, the wind retaliated, swirling the sand through the night air. The girl only squinted, trying to make shapes of the nothingness until her eyes were blinded by them.

In the starlight, she could now only make out silhouettes: two squares with a type of screening, a rectangle filled by other rectangles, small cylinders on a figure that lay at an odd angle.

“It’s alright,” the figure said, somehow aware of the girl’s blindness. “The stars make for good company.”

‘Company?’ the girl questioned. Her heart began to slow. She wanted to say more, wanted to stay longer.

But there was no time. She glanced at the figure, her eyes searching for answers, hoping to see something more than outlines in the dark. But when she turned, the sand had dissipated, the wind no longer howled, and it was quiet. The girl only sighed and turned her head. In the square window of her room, light gleamed through the screening, and the girl’s reflection faded and reappeared, mirroring the twinkling stars.

“Contoured Man Staring At Floor” by Anthony Cervantes, 11, Drawing

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“Hesitance” by Czarlize Jereos, 10, Photography

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I d e nt it y C r isi s Marco Ruiz, 12 The void was pitch black He flicked on the lightswitch Masks on top masks in stacks “I can’t decide on one, how and which?”

The floor is covered in faces, too many to count The boy grew a sharp fear in his head “I’ll never find one, with this amount, By the time I do, as a doornail I’ll be dead.”

The boy’s face starts chipping off, like a broken vase The boy’s face disappeared into the sea of faces “Where’d they go? Where’s my face?”

The boy’s face was gone, leaving no traces The boy looked at himself , and wondered why “I don’t recognize myself, not at all.

Can someone tell me: Who am I?”

What I’ve Been Through~Creations~48

“Addiction to Social Media”

by Kate Nisnian, 12, Drawing

T h e I mp o ssi ble Cho ic e Anonymous, 12 Gently though between her bones The heart begins to flutter.

Beating gently against its cage It still cannot get better.

It hopes for more for it to beat, Though knowing it is scared.

Not sure if it should still escape From between these bones now flared.

Scared to move so flutter it must, Wondering where to go.

Its supply is now forefer gone, Yet between these walls it must flow.

As the last dregs leave this shattered place, It wonders where it went so wrong.

And as it beats its last goodbye, It sings one last lonely song.

What I’ve Been Through~Creations~49

M em or i es We used to be close Like a tree that clings Its roots to the dirt.

Grace Fajardo, 9

Should’ve left

When our connection Grew stronger each time that happened. Felt like it grew.

I guess I was wrong.

Should’ve left before We got close.

The separation killed me.

But one day one of us

Should’ve left before

I still cling to you.

Left.

I could feel this way.

Wishing that you’re here And we could hang out again.

There are times you

Before I would be

Although you don’t want

Can tell you’re drifting apart

Crying with

To do the same.

These thoughts in

And times when it felt like It came out of nowhere.

In the end, whichever one

My head.

I want to be happy

Before I could no longer get out of bed.

That at least those memories

Before this pain in my

Happened.

Chest that feels like

Of those happens The result will stay the same.

Stab wounds, But why did you come

Or timebombs.

To my life when you never Our memories are now memories

Planned to stay in it?

We can’t recreate.

Take showers and skip Was there a time

From our normal hangouts,

Before I could no longer For days or weeks.

You wanted to stay with me?

To late-night phone calls,

Before I have no more

Our little adventures,

Did you see a future with me?

Our silence.

Motivation to eat

If you didn’t then

Although we were silent

And empty my stomach

Why did you stay?

So the pain will go away.

Still together.

You should’ve left

It felt like our connection

But there are times I do eat.

Before it happened.

I eat and eat to overflow

Doing our own things we were

And fill in the emptiness In my stomach.

To clean the place And do something about it.

To go outside And feel the fresh air Became hard to do.

Having no more Motivation to do The things I loved To do.

You should’ve left Before all of it, So I didn’t have To go through it.

I should’ve realized That just because The roots of the tree Clung to the dirt Doesn’t mean it couldn’t Pull away.

“Mask” by Chase Umansky, 12, Photography

What I’ve Been Through~Creations~51

“Two Tigers” by Hiba Naqvi, 12, Digital Drawing

Ro p e Carol Manilay, 12 How can someone love me, when I hate me When I look in the mirror, all I do is weep I cry and cry and close my eyes to not see I just wanI just want this to be over, so I can leap I’ve been dreaming and dreaming for my days to be gone I’m still here wondering why I hide I run and run, until it’s none Laying here again, feeling like I’m tied I’m trapped in a fence I just want to leave But my family and friends Won’t set me free The future I don’t seek Feeling empty every day I can’t sudden speak Hoping my body is gray I stand here looking through me Seeing no future and hope She’s slowly floating in the sea With the untied rope

“Reminders of a Past Life” by Nooreen Ahmed, 12, Photography

What I’ve Been Through~Creations~54

T he an tago ni zi ng act o f aging GeriAnn Kelly, 11 There is something so painful about the first time you realize time has taken you without your knowledge, and there are now things I have come to associate with it….

The feeling of envy that floods over me when I see a young child where I once was…

And the selfishness I possess to push my hopes and regrets onto their life, warning them to do better than me in places in which I failed. All in hopes they won’t make the same mistakes that keep me up at night wishing I did better.

I’m aware it’s not fair of me, they too should be allowed to make their own mistakes to learn and grow in ways I never could.

But to those who still have time left I beg…

Cherish. Every. Moment.

Enjoy the privileges of your youth.

family, it may not feel like it now, but one day you will tear up to the idea that you once did.

Appreciate the little things…

Like every time you are told “you have a bright future ahead of you”, Because the last time you are told that will be the day you find yourself in that godforsaken future.

And you may even come to realize that the “brightness” was a mere concept in which you will spend the rest of your adult life chasing… thought cursed to never truly find what you were hoping for.

Find peace in annoyances…

Know that it is an advantage to have adults telling you what to do, for one day they shall die and you will be left alone. And it will take telling a younger person, (younger than you), to realize you have turned into what they consider an adult.

So enjoy your time little one...and believe me when I say It will end sooner than you think.

It is a gift to live in the same home as your birth What I’ve Been Through~Creations~55

Los t Skylar Turner, 12 I am lost Lost without light Light drowned by dark Dark with no end End without hope Hopeless and helpless Helplessly alone Alone and forgotten Forgotten in seconds Seconds ran down Down to nothing Nothing remaining I was lost Lost but now light Light glowing bright Peace at what cost

What I’ve Been Through~Creations~56

Depression is a very serious issue that affects many people.

You are not alone.

National Suicide Prevention Hotline suicidepreventionlifeline.org 1-800-273-8255

“Call Me Soon” by Lauren Rhodes, 12, Photography

What I’ve Been Through~Creations~57

“A Portrait of A Woman on Fire” by Gavin Lipinski, 12, Photogaphy What I’ve Been Through~Creations~58

I be com e V i rgi n M ary Mariana Martinez, 12

I was given baby Jesus when I was 12 years old Told to cradle him with great care and affection When I grasped him I saw beauty beyond compare I hugged him close and vowed to never let him go I wanted to become as beautiful as baby Jesus Acquire half of his glow So when I was perceived I could shine and bring hope resembling his I was 13 and I lifted him to the sky Let him come with me to every corner of the world Those who saw him smiled to me and said He is truly beautiful beyond compare I beamed right back and responded I've known that since I was just 12 years old I continued to carry him throughout my life Smiled when he smiled laughed when he laughed His presence consumed my life And gave it every joy in the world I would show the world this beautiful boy Because they deserved every joy too But at 14 someone took him They looked at the baby boy with so much love

I smiled glad that someone my age would love him so much Then they took out a nail And pricked my baby at the top of his head Handed the baby back to me Still holding the loving smile I looked down at baby Jesus Wondering why a lovely soul would prick my joy Tried too smile and let it slide After all it was just one small prick But the second a small trickle of blood trailed his head Vultures of loving faces dived for him All with nails on their hands They mutilated my baby Destroyed every limb and every gear Spit on his hands and stomped out his face Drenched me in his blood And left little pieces for me to pick up All while still wearing those loving smiles Now I'm 17 years old and my baby jesus is a stain on the floor Nothing was left of him except pools of blood

Continued I was given baby Jesus when I was 12 years old Told to cradle him with great care and affection When I grasped him I saw beauty beyond compare I hugged him close and vowed to never let him go I wanted to become as beautiful as baby Jesus Acquire half of his glow So when I was perceived I could shine and bring hope resembling his I was 13 and I lifted him to the sky Let him come with me to every corner of the world Those who saw him smiled to me and said He is truly beautiful beyond compare I beamed right back and responded I've known that since I was just 12 years old I continued to carry him throughout my life Smiled when he smiled laughed when he laughed His presence consumed my life And gave it every joy in the world I would show the world this beautiful boy Because they deserved every joy too But at 14 someone took him They looked at the baby boy with so much love What I’ve Been Through~Creations~60

I smiled glad that someone my age would love him so much Then they took out a nail And pricked my baby at the top of his head Handed the baby back to me Still holding the loving smile I looked down at baby Jesus Wondering why a lovely soul would prick my joy Tried too smile and let it slide After all it was just one small prick But the second a small trickle of blood trailed his head Vultures of loving faces dived for him All with nails on their hands They mutilated my baby Destroyed every limb and every gear Spit on his hands and stomped out his face Drenched me in his blood And left little pieces for me to pick up All while still wearing those loving smiles Now I'm 17 years old and my baby jesus is a stain on the floor Nothing was left of him except pools of blood I looked at his pieces and apologized Dropped to my knees with anguish

I'm sorry I could not take better care of yOu Then in front of me stood a human Too bright for my eyes to conceive Took baby jesus and laid him to rest They smiled and stooped down to meet me They declared “I may have been mutilated but I am not dead”

They then bestowed upon me Baby jesus Fully formed with beauty beyond compare Told to cradle him with great care and affection And to let everyone see his indestructible beauty I hugged him close and vowed to never let him go

“Unititled“ Avery Ullrich, 12, Painting

What I’ve Been Through~Creations~61

Wh at T he y Tau g ht Michela Schenk, 11 A rainbow fish, a giving tree, a world of wild things.

These books of past Like clay they shaped My personality.

The fish so bright Was dimmed by life, Their colors stole by friends When scales of mine, friends did findThey took from me In name of love

“Waiting For Your Company” by Jodi Mendoza, 11, Drawing What I’ve Been Through~Creations~62

And like the fish, I grew to know If friends I desire, My light must go dimmer.

A giving tree, Was read to me.

She gave her all In hopes the boy might fall Her branches, her fruit, her shade, her leaves, She might sound nice to thee Yet, by the end I wonder Did she have to bend?

Was his thanks pretend?

For not once did he Lay down his all And so I learned To make him fall I must give myself Holding nothing back And pray to god he might love me back.

Where The Wild Things are is where

I need to be.

These emotions in me Are a monster No one can see.

For like MaxI too get lonely and mad.

But they do not Want the roaring Nor the gnashing Of terrible teeth.

No, The world prefers The big emotions to stay An ocean away.

Shove the monster down No time for wild now You have big girl things to do So you must calm down.

A poem written by Michela Schenk, inspired by the childhood books that impacted who she became.

Books referenced: Rainbow Fish by Marcus Pfister, The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein, Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak.

Carol Manilay, 12 There was a little girl Who waited for her father She stood behind the front door Waiting, yet he never bothered She cried and cried But suddenly stopped Because she realized The door will never knock She was on her bed Watching a show of a family with a father Then she looked outside her window Of her father with another daughter She cried and cried once again Wondering why she’s not enough But then she realized That the door was always locked She left the door open for years and years Waiting till she’s 17 Standing behind the front door Waiting, but holding a guillotine What I’ve Been Through~Creations~64

“Vented” by Cinder Roeder, 11, Photography

Do or

What I’ve Been Through~Creations~65

ere I wil

go “Eye of the Beholder” by Amy Kostadinov, 12, Mixed Media

Wh

Where I Will Go~Creations~66

“Lost In Thought” by Abeni Garner, 12, Painting

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F o llowi ng the Ti de

by Sydney Wightman She sat, facing the shore searching searching, not sure what for but knowing it had a purpose.

It’s purpose was with the deep blue tide as the tide seemed to whisper her name in the breeze.

The breeze whisked, moving the dark smog past the lighthouse.

The lighthouse was withered and sorrowful while sorrowful, it slowed the deep blue tide from crashing on the sand The sand was cool as her feet sank in, watching the tide.

The tide had a deep hidden meaning that rolled past her eyes her eyes watching and concluding this deep dark meaning the meaning seeming to be on the tip of her sand buried toes as her toes touched the rolling in tide The tides secret meaning lay deep within its blue waves The waves presented not an object, but a meaning The meaning connecting her to safety and comfort This comfort became known to her as the tide crept along past the shore On the shore she settled, knowing she was home.

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“City Night ” by Arriana Jereos, 12, Painting Where I Will Go~Creations~70

“Lady in Red ” by Addi Lindo, 12, Drawing Where I Will Go~Creations~71

“Untitled” by Alexis Tatum, 12, Photography

“Street In Italy” by Robert Remedi, 11, Photography

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“The Road Less Travelled” by Kashmala Yousafzai, 12, Painting Where I Will Go~Creations~73

Le t ting Fatima Naveed, 12 I feel like this last page should be something memorable. not whatever this is.

Poetry is bleeding This is red ink.

I am no longer an artist This is the blood from the death of a poet The whetstone does nothing more than dull its weapons, a soft-edged blade.

Cough collects in throat; I know I’m not dead yet.

Comb through the surface and rub rough wrinkles flat in ravenous ravines.

I am not dead yet. blood unknown.

This breath insists on not letting ordinary live alone.

“Out of reach ” by Jasmine Morkeh, 11, Mixed Media

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R e mi ni sc en ce Kahlia Williams, 11 Those were the days, When worry was invisible And stress was concealed.

Those were the days, When the pungent scent of crayons brought instant gratification And our parents lit up when our masterpiece was revealed.

Those were the days, When growing up was a necessity And freedom we thought we needed seemed so far.

Those were the days, When life was golden And no one, not even me, could dim my shining star.

These are the days, When deadlines become our enemy And rest our new best friend.

These are the days, When the scent of crayons are faint And we wonder if stress will ever come to an end.

These are the days, When our emotions gain control And our actions determine our fate.

These are the days, When I’d give anything to live in my nostalgia And re-experience a life I’ll never again be able to create.

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“Did It Make It?” by Carol Manilay, 12, Photography

“Gaea” by Lauren Rhodes, 12, Painting

U n f o und

Fatima Naveed, 12

I was still here, but already getting that feeling of nostalgia when returning to a childhood home years after leaving it.

Nobody put up a poster for them— The Days— when they slid into each other, into another world, deeper down a chasm of dates crossed off.

My feet dangle over the edge, precariously, and you can see how it makes sense.

That chasing is an option leading nowhere but down, forgetting means faulty footing feeling for ground.

In the cave beneath, my toes nudge the hollow air a little too hard, a bit too long.

The days are Gone. Are the days gone?

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T h an k you to ou r g en ero u s s u p p ort e rs

F rie nd s $ 2 0- $ 40 B r y a n & Pe g g y B e c k e r Suzanne Conforti The Education Life Skills Program Naveed Ismail Jo h n M a u r e r Fa t i m a N a v e e d Lange vin O. Piol Sue Slovik Jo s e p h S u a r e z Angela Wier manski Michelle Williams

B e ne factor $10 0+ Aliyah Ohlsen Bahia Al-Salihi Carrie Suarez Ka te Knutson Carol Manilay-Robles Priyal Pa tel William Od do S u e Wa l k e r patron $5 0- $75 Deb D’Onofrio Je n n i f e r D r i n k a T h e G r o t h Fa m i l y Kendra Kett / T he Blue Moon Gallery Ginny Krue ger Cherry Manilay Ruel Manilay E d e n Pe r a l t a Karen Suare z Flint

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The Creations Staff would like to thank, in no particular order, The School board, Mr. Oddo, Mr. Stocker, Logan McLeod, Mrs. MsCulley, Mrs. Keslinke, Mrs. Wiermanski, Mrs. Connor, Mr. Georgatsos and the Scratch Paper staff for all their help this year.

Creations, Volume 44, was produced by the Creations Staff at Warren Township High School in Gurnee, Illinois and printing at American Lithograph, Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Created on Adobe InDesign and Adobe Photoshop CC. Please send any questions to kknutson@wths.net.

Fonts include: Times New Roman, Bodani MT Italics, Corbel Light, and Perpetua Title MT Light Submissions by Warren Students are shared via Google Drive through www. d121.org with name, ID, and title of work included and blind-judged by the Creations Staff.

Staf f Lena Groth Carol Manilay Jasmine Morkeh Fatima Naveed Aliyah Ohlsen Priyal Patel Raphaella Ranario Ava Suarez Sponsor: Ms. Knutson