Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

16
TEEN WRITING & ART SHOWCASE FALL

description

 

Transcript of Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

Page 1: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

TEEN W

RIT

ING &

ART S

HOW

CASE

FALL

Page 2: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

FALL

GA

ILBO

RD

EN.IN

FO

We hope you enjoy reading Gail Borden’s second Teen Writing and Art Showcase! This issue includes submissions from twenty-three local students. We have published written entries exactly as they were submitted. Some art entries have been edited to remove personal

information.

For information about how to submit work for publication in a future showcase,

please visit www.gailborden.info/teen-art-writing. We want to see your amazing creations!

FRONT COVER:

“Standing in the Clouds”LANEY SCHWEITZER

BACK COVER:

BirdNATHAN LUDWIG

&&

Page 3: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

Drumline’s FamilyNONFICTION

EMILY PLACIDOGRADE 11

ST. CHARLES NORTHHIGH SCHOOL

A Hundred Shades of GreenNONFICTION

SAMANTHA HARVILLEGRADE 10

BURLINGTON CENTRALHIGH SCHOOL

A Journey Through a World of BooksPOETRY

ASIYAH ARASTUGRADE 8

LARSENMIDDLE SCHOOL

The Light in the ShadowsFICTION

ELISEO CORONAGRADE 8

KENYON WOODSMIDDLE SCHOOL

Out of the Spotlight (Part One) FICTION

ALICIA HORNGRADE 8

TEFFTMIDDLE SCHOOL

Room with No DoorsPOETRY

MAYA MCMAHONGRADE 8

ABBOTTMIDDLE SCHOOL

Welcome to AmericaFICTION

ALEJANDRA RODRIGUEZGRADE 9

BURLINGTON CENTRAL HIGH SCHOOL

UntitledPENCIL, COLORED PENCIL, AND LIQUID GLUE

JAILENE RAMIREZ GRADE 10

ELGIN HIGH SCHOOL

Best FriendsKAYLIN KENDERS GRADE 6

WESTMINSTERCHRISTIAN SCHOOL

BirdWATERCOLOR

NATHAN LUDWIGGRADE 6

HOMESCHOOL

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Bleeding HeartGLORIA MORAGRADE 8

KIMBALL MIDDLE SCHOOL

BubblesACRYLICS

REBECCA RICKERT GRADE 10

RICKERT HOMESCHOOL

Chain GirlERIKA DELGADOGRADE 6

LORDS PARK ELEMENTARY

HealCOLORED PENCIL

DEVIN WISNIEWSKIGRADE 10

ELGIN HIGH SCHOOL

Lapis LazuliPAINT TOOL SAI

PAIGE PAULSONGRADE 6

CREEKSIDE ELEMENTARY

Prom DressELISE MILLERGRADE 8

KENYON WOODSMIDDLE SCHOOL

Summer SweetsEMILY MILLERGRADE 6

WILLARD ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

Sweet TreatsASHLEY MILLERGRADE 6

WILLARD ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

The Pk KidsPENCIL, PERMANENT MARKER, AND CRAYON

CARLY ERLING

GRADE 8

KENYON WOODSMIDDLE SCHOOL

Standing in the CloudsWATERCOLOR

LANEY SCHWEITZERGRADE 8

KENYON WOODSMIDDLE SCHOOL

UntitledPEN

HANNAH LEEGRADE 8

HOMESCHOOL

UntitledPENCIL, COLORED PENCIL, AND PERMANENT MARKER

CASSEY RAMIREZGRADE 6

LINCOLN ELEMENTARY

What Goes On In Your Head?PENCIL

ERIKA MENDOZAGRADE 8

SAINT THOMAS MORE

Page 4: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

Some say drumline’s a cult; others say we’re a family; while some say that we’re backstabbing, greedy, self-centered arrogant little bitches. While I like to think that the last thought isn’t true, it’s probably the most accurate description of drumline I’ve heard in a long time (if at all). But there are certain individuals in drumline I have grown to love, especially Aaron, Keane, Noah, and a couple freshman (class of 2018). And those people are the reasons why we call ourselves family; that’s why I didn’t commit suicide just days

before the parade. And that’s what I want to do 20 years from now. Be like Aaron, Keane, and Noah. Be that one person who was there when no one else was. I’m not sure how, I’m not sure where. But there’s no doubt in my mind that I’m going to do what I do and help others. And I guess I’ll start today saying: When life hands you a million reasons to quit, laugh at it and say, “Try me.” And never forget it.

Drumline’s FamilyBY EMILY PLACIDO

Between drumline, my first halftime show I will ever perform, depression, 3 parades, Red Gate Sound Project, and people finally reaching out to me, nothing will be more memorable than the first year of my high school career. The one thing that will stick with me is the St. Patrick’s Day parade of 2012. It was one of those days where no matter how hard the sun tried, it could not pop out behind the clouds. The band kids were huddled together like penguins trying to keep their body temperature up. With each breath, you could see a small cloud forming inches away from your mouth. If you remained still for even a minute, the air would start stinging at your cheeks and ears. I sit on the curb, scrolling through my photo library. My drumsticks sit in my lap. The air is finally chilling my bones and echoes through the rest of my body. You should get up and walk around, get some blood flowing. And I do exactly that. I don’t say a whole lot; at parades, I become the shy, quiet person no one expects me to be. I listen to the different conversations being held among the band nerds. But there’s one conversation that grabs my attention. If my memory serves me right, the conversation consisted of Noah, Keane, Robert, and Mac; the whole tenor line except me. “But how do you really know the grass is green, though?” Noah asks. “For all we know, your green could be my purple, Keane’s red, Robert’s black, and Emily’s rainbow.” “Because we grew up with all these things drilled in our head that the grass is green, the sky is blue, your name being your name, etc., once we start questioning that, we start to get uncomfortable. Sure, Mac could say he’s Mac, but for all we know, he could call himself Sharkesha Helga something or other instead of Mac and we wouldn’t know the difference,” I reply. “Greenhorn has a point,” Keane points out. “Society kinda drills things in our heads to make sure we don’t get to the point of questioning everything.” “Excuse me, did you just call me greenhorn?” I sass.

“Maybe,” Keane says, slowly stepping away from me. “You had all year to call me greenhorn and you’re just calling me that?” “You’re still a freshman,” Robert says. “Shut up, Captain llama pants!” I shout. “Shit. Robert, you weren’t supposed to know I call you Captain Llama Pants.” “Wait. If I’m captain llama pants, what does that make everyone else?” Robert asks. I sigh, using all will power to not end up laughing hysterically. “Noah’s the soulless ginger from South Park, Keane’s Swagman, and like I said, Mac is Sharkesha Helga something or other. Got it?” “What does that make you?” Keane asks. “I mean, you’re a lot of things, crazy being included, but I’m curious as to hear what you think you are.” “Oh that’s easy,” I reply. “The marvel fangirl. Duh. C’mon guys.” The sound of the drum major whistle blares through my ears and the tenor line heads toward their drums. One more picture for your bedroom wall. “Mac!” I shriek. “Pose for a picture!” I flip my camera to selfie mode and hold down the photo button. “Drum up, guys!” Todd shouts, leaving me no time to look at the pictures. I, along with the rest of drumline, drum up. Todd’s stick soon hits the snare drum head, counting down the seconds to step off of the 2012 St. Patrick’s Day parade. Fast forward a couple hours. I go through the pictures. I sit at home, alone in my room. My sister, Abbey, is at a friend’s house, Mom downstairs watching American Horror Story. A folder sits in front of me. My eyes read the words the center snare, two of our senior tenor players, and one of our bass drummers wrote. I gingerly hold the frail, thin lined paper between my thumb and index finger. So if you’re ever down, remember your family on drumline. My eyes find their way to the shelf holding my six hats (give or take one or two because it’s hard for me to keep track). The green soon sticks out like a sore thumb, the plaid and superficial stitching standing out against the cream colored wall. It will forever serve as a reminder that I’m needed, and more importantly, I’m wanted.

June 19, 1966 Well we just landed in New York and by looking at all the buildings I have the feeling I won’t like it! On our way to the new home I was looking at the city I don’t like it. There are so many tall buildings, too many cars, not much grass which made me upset. There are also many shops and work places. Mum told me that the library was close to where we were going to live. Well at least I will like one thing… Father then told us that we wouldn’t be living in a house like we did back then; instead we’ll live in flat! Like as if I would like that! I really wanted a house so that I could at least have some outdoor space… June 19, 1966 Well America clearly is strange! When we were given our room key we had to go to the third floor. Well we went to where the key lead us to, only to find we were in the wrong floor. The lady that lived there informed us that the third floor was the one below us. She also told us her name was Emily and Mum seemed to be getting along with her real fast. She told us there was no need to call her Mrs. Jones. She also told me about her son who was about my age and that I should come over later to meet him some time later. After all that happened we went to unpack our stuff while Father went out for some food. Some hours passed and the unpacking was done when Father came in with a box. I didn’t know what could come in a box that large so when he opened it I was surprised to see a television set, only he told me it was a colour one! That was such a cool thing to have! Apparently he and Mrs. Jones had been talking and got him into buying one. June 20, 1966

Today I went to meet Alfred because Mum wanted me to make at least one friend so I went. He is a really nifty guy if you get to know him. His piercing dark brown eyes and light golden hair are what stood out the most. Not just that he was also athletic but has some chubby… oh enough of that I can’t think about him while I write this? We talked for a while but he was so confused on some words I used while I was confused with the words he used. He told me his birthday was coming up on the fourth July. I think I will get him something like a comic book just to be nice? He is really into that stuff. We have some things in common, like the love for football soccer, I’m trying to use some of the words used here just so I won’t get confused later when I talk to someone else.

July 3, 1966

I have never been so scared in my life before! I was walking back home from the book store because I went to get Alfred a gift for his birthday. He is the only friend I do have anyways… So on the way back one car couldn’t hit the brakes and I didn’t see the car until it was almost too late! That’s when I hear Alfred yell out my nick name Art; I have told him not to call me that because it’s not my name. Anyways he ran towards where I was and quickly pulled me back. Oh dear gosh did he seem so heroic at that moment! Seriously I need to stop writing about him. Well thanks to him pulling me back I made it out alive… only the gift didn’t. When I told my father about it he said that early the next morning we would both go and get him something better than just a comic book.

July 4, 1966

Today I get to go and see Alfred for his birthday. Father and I just came back from the store with a gift I am positive he will like better that the first one. I can’t wait to see him! I just want to run over to his flat and thank him. Well just one more hour until I see him!

I closed the journal waiting for the clock to move its hands and read two-o-clock. Waiting is no fun, but in the mean time I made sure the gift was perfect inside the box, poked the ribbon about twenty times… Finally the time came and I ran to Alfred’s flat with the gift in my hand waiting to give it to him. I knocked on the door hoping he would open.

When he opened the door he saw me and yelled out “Hey Arthur did you come to wish the Hero a happy birth-”

I cut him off by running up to him and giving him a hug. I don’t do hugs but this is the only time I will.

“Happy birthday Hero.” I whispered.

I handed his gift to him and placed a kiss on his check. He was blushing like crazy, and returned a kiss.

Although it was not my birthday I think I got the best thing I could ever wish for, meeting him.

Welcome to AmericaALEJANDRA RODRIGUEZ

April 13, 1966 Mum got me this journal for my birthday today (just like any typical mother would) and told me to write about all my adventures! I reminded her that I just turned 16 so I don’t think I would do that although I secretly would… The gift from Father wasn’t the niftiest one. We are moving to America in June, New York he says. I asked why we had to move because I really don’t want to move away from the nice country side. I like it here in England and honestly I don’t want to go to America. Some of my classmates say it would be nice to live in a big city, especially in America, but I’m not a fan of big cities. Mother told me I will make new friends so there was no need for me to worry! Like that would ever happen I don’t have friends here so I don’t think I will over there. Mom said I should be jazzed to go live somewhere new but honestly I just want to crawl in a hole and never leave it!

Page 5: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

Some say drumline’s a cult; others say we’re a family; while some say that we’re backstabbing, greedy, self-centered arrogant little bitches. While I like to think that the last thought isn’t true, it’s probably the most accurate description of drumline I’ve heard in a long time (if at all). But there are certain individuals in drumline I have grown to love, especially Aaron, Keane, Noah, and a couple freshman (class of 2018). And those people are the reasons why we call ourselves family; that’s why I didn’t commit suicide just days

What Goes On In Your Head?ERIKA MENDOZA

before the parade. And that’s what I want to do 20 years from now. Be like Aaron, Keane, and Noah. Be that one person who was there when no one else was. I’m not sure how, I’m not sure where. But there’s no doubt in my mind that I’m going to do what I do and help others. And I guess I’ll start today saying: When life hands you a million reasons to quit, laugh at it and say, “Try me.” And never forget it.

Drumline’s FamilyBY EMILY PLACIDO

Between drumline, my first halftime show I will ever perform, depression, 3 parades, Red Gate Sound Project, and people finally reaching out to me, nothing will be more memorable than the first year of my high school career. The one thing that will stick with me is the St. Patrick’s Day parade of 2012. It was one of those days where no matter how hard the sun tried, it could not pop out behind the clouds. The band kids were huddled together like penguins trying to keep their body temperature up. With each breath, you could see a small cloud forming inches away from your mouth. If you remained still for even a minute, the air would start stinging at your cheeks and ears. I sit on the curb, scrolling through my photo library. My drumsticks sit in my lap. The air is finally chilling my bones and echoes through the rest of my body. You should get up and walk around, get some blood flowing. And I do exactly that. I don’t say a whole lot; at parades, I become the shy, quiet person no one expects me to be. I listen to the different conversations being held among the band nerds. But there’s one conversation that grabs my attention. If my memory serves me right, the conversation consisted of Noah, Keane, Robert, and Mac; the whole tenor line except me. “But how do you really know the grass is green, though?” Noah asks. “For all we know, your green could be my purple, Keane’s red, Robert’s black, and Emily’s rainbow.” “Because we grew up with all these things drilled in our head that the grass is green, the sky is blue, your name being your name, etc., once we start questioning that, we start to get uncomfortable. Sure, Mac could say he’s Mac, but for all we know, he could call himself Sharkesha Helga something or other instead of Mac and we wouldn’t know the difference,” I reply. “Greenhorn has a point,” Keane points out. “Society kinda drills things in our heads to make sure we don’t get to the point of questioning everything.” “Excuse me, did you just call me greenhorn?” I sass.

“Maybe,” Keane says, slowly stepping away from me. “You had all year to call me greenhorn and you’re just calling me that?” “You’re still a freshman,” Robert says. “Shut up, Captain llama pants!” I shout. “Shit. Robert, you weren’t supposed to know I call you Captain Llama Pants.” “Wait. If I’m captain llama pants, what does that make everyone else?” Robert asks. I sigh, using all will power to not end up laughing hysterically. “Noah’s the soulless ginger from South Park, Keane’s Swagman, and like I said, Mac is Sharkesha Helga something or other. Got it?” “What does that make you?” Keane asks. “I mean, you’re a lot of things, crazy being included, but I’m curious as to hear what you think you are.” “Oh that’s easy,” I reply. “The marvel fangirl. Duh. C’mon guys.” The sound of the drum major whistle blares through my ears and the tenor line heads toward their drums. One more picture for your bedroom wall. “Mac!” I shriek. “Pose for a picture!” I flip my camera to selfie mode and hold down the photo button. “Drum up, guys!” Todd shouts, leaving me no time to look at the pictures. I, along with the rest of drumline, drum up. Todd’s stick soon hits the snare drum head, counting down the seconds to step off of the 2012 St. Patrick’s Day parade. Fast forward a couple hours. I go through the pictures. I sit at home, alone in my room. My sister, Abbey, is at a friend’s house, Mom downstairs watching American Horror Story. A folder sits in front of me. My eyes read the words the center snare, two of our senior tenor players, and one of our bass drummers wrote. I gingerly hold the frail, thin lined paper between my thumb and index finger. So if you’re ever down, remember your family on drumline. My eyes find their way to the shelf holding my six hats (give or take one or two because it’s hard for me to keep track). The green soon sticks out like a sore thumb, the plaid and superficial stitching standing out against the cream colored wall. It will forever serve as a reminder that I’m needed, and more importantly, I’m wanted.

their innocence,” I said with a frightening sereneness. “What are you talking about?” Derek said, sounding confused. “I will not leave until I finish my mission,” I repeated. “Mission? What mission? Our only ‘mission’ is to find a way to get things back to normal,” Derek hissed. “I am not leaving!” I yelled. If only he knew that I was trying to save him… “If you won’t come out, then I’ll make you,” “What do you mean? What are you going to do?” I asked with a certain tension in my voice. Silence. “Derek?” I asked once more. More silence. “Fine, just fine,” I yelled. I walked away from the Dream door and ran, desperate to reach the part of the brain required to finish the job, before Derek could live up to his threat. From that point on, the walls had doors every now and then. I ran while looking at the signs on the doors to make sure I didn’t pass it. Personal Info, Joys, Pet Peeves, Disasters, etc. Many doors later, I found my desired destination. The door looked like all the other doors in Derek’s mind: Tall, wooden, and polished. The only difference was how I felt standing in front of it. I felt strong, powerful, and utterly indestructible. I shouldn’t let the power get to me, it could be my demise. I wasn’t sure what to do from that point, I wasn’t sure what to think. It was my first time actually inside someone’s mind. The closest I’ve gotten to this was reading someone’s most secret thoughts. I didn’t know what would happen if I went in. There’s only one way to find out. I focused on the energy radiating from the door and willed myself to harness it. I felt its influence overfilling me and tried to cut into its source. Suddenly, a wave of images overwhelmed my mind. Lots of mythical beasts, their appearance distorted and messed with ‘till they looked far from frightening. Many of them were in the shadows, trying to hide, but from what? I saw many other things like worries and real

life problems, but most of his fears revolved around the demons we faced a few months ago. The whole team helped us destroy their essence, so what is Derek afraid of? They can’t come back...Right? “Okay, so if I go in, Derek will fear me ‘till I get out. Also, I won’t be able to get out, unless I have a wicked amount of power. There are monsters in there, but what can they do? They’re ideas, nothing more but mere thoughts,” I said to myself, trying to calm down. Going in means becoming an idea, too… I was about to twist the door knob when I heard Derek’s voice echo through the hall. “Stop it! Stop what you are doing!” Derek yelled. “You know, Derek, I’m getting tired of your childish tempers! What could be so bad you wouldn’t want your own girlfriend to know?” I shouted in a mix of anger, frustration, and doubt. What is he keeping from me?

The Light in the ShadowsChapter 3

ELISEO CORONA

I passed through the double-doors and took a look around to make sure I was in the right place. From the corner of my eye, I could see memories suspended in the creases of Derek’s mind. I stopped and took a look around Derek’s mind. My gosh, it’s huge, I thought as I saw how much space surrounded me. His mind was set up like a hallway. The floor was covered in a silk red carpet that cascaded into the horizon. The walls of his mind were lined with pictures of his most favored memories. I stepped closer to examine one of them and read the caption.

Heather GenterWith love may she R.I.P

2080-2100

His mother had died at childbirth. I examined the photo above the caption. Heather was a beautiful woman. She had a perfect jaw line and vivid blue eyes. Her hair was a gorgeous shade of dark brown and her skin was a soft shade of tan. She smiled as though she had the most amazing life. Yet I felt pity for her. Her smile looked a bit forced. When I looked into her eyes, I saw the real sadness in them. Why? I looked away from the photo and focused on the real reason I was there. I walked along the corridor, occasionally stopping to see other photos of his childhood. It seemed as though I’d been walking for hours, when I saw a door on the left hand side. I got in closer to inspect. The door had a sign that read:

Dreams

I didn’t know he had dreams, I thought to myself. I stepped away from the door and kept walking, but stopped mid-step and turned around. I couldn’t help but see what was inside. I briskly walked to the door and rested my hand on the knob.

This will go against everything I have fought for, I thought, Should I do it? Do it! A small demonic voice inside of me said. Derek is a human being, too. He deserves his privacy. He has kept too many things from me, this is the only way to be sure of anything. As many times as he has lied to me he has saved my life. Without trust, our relationship is nothing. He is trusting I will let him deal with his own problems. Just take a peak, he’ll never know. You will regret it if you do. Without a second thought, I turned the knob and... “Hey!” I instinctively turned around to see who called. “Who’s there?” I shouted, trying to sound more intimidating than the terrified 16 year old girl whom would only like to cower in the fetal position for the rest of her life. “Melony? Where are you?” Derek’s voice echoed through the hall of his mind. I looked around and tried to find him. When I was certain I couldn’t see him physically, I spoke to no one in particular. “I’m in your mind,” I responded, afraid of what his reaction might be. “Ha ha ha, very funny. Now, where are you? The team has been searching for you non-stop,” Derek said. “No, really. I used my psychic abilities and enhanced it so that I would be able to enter your mind through the look of your eyes,” I sputtered out rapidly. “You what?!? You...But...Do you even… How could you invade my privacy like that?” Derek yelled. “Could you keep it down? When you yell, I feel like I’m experiencing a level 6 earthquake, so cool it!” I yelled back. “I want you out of there, now!” Derek said, a little quieter. “And I will get out...Right when I’m done with what I have to do,” I murmured. “Done with what? Is this about Diana? I have no feelings for her, I swear,” Derek said. A sense of rage passed through me. I didn’t even mention Diana! Where did he get that from? “Only those whom are guilty are eager to prove

June 19, 1966 Well we just landed in New York and by looking at all the buildings I have the feeling I won’t like it! On our way to the new home I was looking at the city I don’t like it. There are so many tall buildings, too many cars, not much grass which made me upset. There are also many shops and work places. Mum told me that the library was close to where we were going to live. Well at least I will like one thing… Father then told us that we wouldn’t be living in a house like we did back then; instead we’ll live in flat! Like as if I would like that! I really wanted a house so that I could at least have some outdoor space… June 19, 1966 Well America clearly is strange! When we were given our room key we had to go to the third floor. Well we went to where the key lead us to, only to find we were in the wrong floor. The lady that lived there informed us that the third floor was the one below us. She also told us her name was Emily and Mum seemed to be getting along with her real fast. She told us there was no need to call her Mrs. Jones. She also told me about her son who was about my age and that I should come over later to meet him some time later. After all that happened we went to unpack our stuff while Father went out for some food. Some hours passed and the unpacking was done when Father came in with a box. I didn’t know what could come in a box that large so when he opened it I was surprised to see a television set, only he told me it was a colour one! That was such a cool thing to have! Apparently he and Mrs. Jones had been talking and got him into buying one. June 20, 1966

Today I went to meet Alfred because Mum wanted me to make at least one friend so I went. He is a really nifty guy if you get to know him. His piercing dark brown eyes and light golden hair are what stood out the most. Not just that he was also athletic but has some chubby… oh enough of that I can’t think about him while I write this? We talked for a while but he was so confused on some words I used while I was confused with the words he used. He told me his birthday was coming up on the fourth July. I think I will get him something like a comic book just to be nice? He is really into that stuff. We have some things in common, like the love for football soccer, I’m trying to use some of the words used here just so I won’t get confused later when I talk to someone else.

July 3, 1966

I have never been so scared in my life before! I was walking back home from the book store because I went to get Alfred a gift for his birthday. He is the only friend I do have anyways… So on the way back one car couldn’t hit the brakes and I didn’t see the car until it was almost too late! That’s when I hear Alfred yell out my nick name Art; I have told him not to call me that because it’s not my name. Anyways he ran towards where I was and quickly pulled me back. Oh dear gosh did he seem so heroic at that moment! Seriously I need to stop writing about him. Well thanks to him pulling me back I made it out alive… only the gift didn’t. When I told my father about it he said that early the next morning we would both go and get him something better than just a comic book.

July 4, 1966

Today I get to go and see Alfred for his birthday. Father and I just came back from the store with a gift I am positive he will like better that the first one. I can’t wait to see him! I just want to run over to his flat and thank him. Well just one more hour until I see him!

I closed the journal waiting for the clock to move its hands and read two-o-clock. Waiting is no fun, but in the mean time I made sure the gift was perfect inside the box, poked the ribbon about twenty times… Finally the time came and I ran to Alfred’s flat with the gift in my hand waiting to give it to him. I knocked on the door hoping he would open.

When he opened the door he saw me and yelled out “Hey Arthur did you come to wish the Hero a happy birth-”

I cut him off by running up to him and giving him a hug. I don’t do hugs but this is the only time I will.

“Happy birthday Hero.” I whispered.

I handed his gift to him and placed a kiss on his check. He was blushing like crazy, and returned a kiss.

Although it was not my birthday I think I got the best thing I could ever wish for, meeting him.

Welcome to AmericaALEJANDRA RODRIGUEZ

April 13, 1966 Mum got me this journal for my birthday today (just like any typical mother would) and told me to write about all my adventures! I reminded her that I just turned 16 so I don’t think I would do that although I secretly would… The gift from Father wasn’t the niftiest one. We are moving to America in June, New York he says. I asked why we had to move because I really don’t want to move away from the nice country side. I like it here in England and honestly I don’t want to go to America. Some of my classmates say it would be nice to live in a big city, especially in America, but I’m not a fan of big cities. Mother told me I will make new friends so there was no need for me to worry! Like that would ever happen I don’t have friends here so I don’t think I will over there. Mom said I should be jazzed to go live somewhere new but honestly I just want to crawl in a hole and never leave it!

“This is your last chance, Mel,” Derek warned. “What are you going to do?” I called out his bluff, arms crossed. With a sudden Bang, a door on the other side of the hall opened and white men came out. They weren’t exactly human, though. They were completely white and held the form of a human, but they had no detail what-so-ever. They looked like walking mannequins… Then they all talked in unison. “We are the Leukocytes. We have detected an unauthorized approach in the central system of this body. You will leave, willingly or forcefully.” The freakiest part of it all was that they all sounded like Derek. Although they talked, I never saw a sign of movement. They didn’t even have mouths! I froze. I was talking to leukocytes. I was talking to white cells. “I-I-I can’t leave, I’ve g-gotta save him,” I stuttered “We are the Leukocytes. Whatever is a threat to him, we will take care of,” The group stated, without emotion. “You see, I’m not a threat. I am here to help Derek,” I pleaded. “We have received orders from the Encephalon to exterminate you if you do not cooperate,” The cells spoke. “So the brain wants me dead?” I asked, not believing in their words. How could Derek do this? “Will you cooperate, Melony Renson?” The cells questioned. “Let me save him. Please,” I begged. “Negatory,” The cells responded. They switched from a human form to oblong shapes. When the transformation was complete, the cells came after me, floating in mid-air. As I turned to run, I saw the Fear door was open. No, I-I-I did not open it, I thought, panic flooding me as I ran. As I started to realize what happened, I sprinted to my next destination: The Control Room. My worst fears were realized. The demons were alive again and they were in Derek’s brain.

Page 6: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

was, like, two. The only thing I know about him is his signature!" Gianna said angrily to Cristina referring to her dad, who literally walked out of her life when she was two years old. Her mother and father worked it out that he would pay for the extracurricular activities his son and daughter would do and her mother would take care of the children and provide the food, shelter and clothes. By doing so her father insured that his children would remember him and stay dependent on him without his need to be there in their life's. "Maybe he's realized that he's wasted to much time and he wants to make up for it?" Cristina replied, ever the optimist. "Ya, totally." Gianna replied, jamming her binder into her bag with a unparalleled force. "Think positive!" Cristina said referring to the latest musical they were in, "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." "Don't" Gianna said joked, remembering the hours of preparation they spent for that show. They zipped up their bags and walked down the hall, swinging their bags as they walked. As they walked into the cafeteria together, a crowd of girls surrounded them, inquiring about their weekend plans. They finally made their way outside of the school and began the short walk to the gated

community where Cristina and Gianna's father lived. Clearwater Middle School was situated smack in the middle of their town. The irony in their towns name was hilarious, given the fact that town was situated in the middle of one of many southern Louisiana swamps, here the water was anything but clear. Many of the schools students came from the upper class neighborhoods and therefore did not have to deal with the swamp water and mud. A few though like Gianna came from the swampy bungalows and hated the towns name and the mud, remembering the amount of shoes that they've lost due to the swampy marshland called Clearwater. Gianna and Cristina walked through the gates towards the subdivision, the guard knew Gianna well from all of her visits to Cristina's house and just nodded at them. Gianna and Cristina walked up to Gianna's father's house in silence. Gianna's father, a perfectionist, made sure that the home was renovated to his taste, controlling everything from floor color to countertops to the type of flowers in the giant vase on the table in foyer. "Here goes nothing," Gianna muttered as she stepped up and rang the doorbell. "Think-" Cristina started but was cut off by the door opening with a dramatic, whoosh.

Out of the Spotlight (Part One)

BY ALICIA HORNGianna stared out the window of her eighth period class, trying to pay attention to what her math teacher was saying but with no luck. She, like most of her math class was thinking about the upcoming weekend, however unlike the rest she was dreading it. "Gianna!" Her math teacher, Ms. Clayton, yelled, interrupting her thoughts and jolting her back to the present. The whole class snickered, and Jason Krindle in the front led a chorus of "Ya, Gianna"s. "Enough!" Ms. Clayton snapped, annoyed by the lack of focus of her class towards the topic of 'linear graphs'. "Now, Jason how about you explain why this graph is linear." "But, Gianna was zoning out, not me!" Jason protested, walking up to the board and glaring at Gianna. "NOW!" "Ok fine. It's linear because..." Jason began. Gianna glanced over at her friend Cristina, who tossed her a sympathetic glance and rolled her eyes at the stupidity of Jason's answer to the question. Gianna laughed and turned forward to act completely immersed in Ms. Clayton's rant about poor study habits and missing assignments. Her rant was cut short by the bell signifying the end of the past 45 grueling minutes. Gianna grabbed her stuff and waited for Cristina by the door. Cristina caught up to her and together they plunged into the depths of middle school craziness, the hallway. As they made their way to the stairs which seemed to be miles away but were in reality, ten feet away, two girls walked by laughing at the top of their lungs. One of the girls slammed into Cristina and muttered a sorry. As they finally made it to their lockers, Gianna remembered how ecstatic they were at the beginning of the year when they found out their lockers were right next door to each other. Gianna's mom was surprised by the lack of kids whose last name came between Starr and Twist. The only true time at school Gianna and Cristina

could talk alone together was at their lockers. Oh yeah and math class, but who has really deep heart to hearts in math class? It wasn't that they didn't have class together because they almost had the exact same schedule, the problem was that they were both really popular and were always surrounded by a group of people who claimed to be their "close friends". Gianna knew that they only liked the Gianna they thought they knew, not the real Gianna. Gianna and Cristina met in fourth grade after Cristina had just moved in. For two weeks they were rivals always trying to outdo each other but then one day, to everyone's surprise, they walked in hand in hand laughing and talking with each other. Cristina was the only person Gianna trusted with knowing her true backstory, her "life out of the spotlight" and Cristina only trusted Gianna with the truth of why she and her family moved. Both Cristina and Gianna had a powerful stage presence and were extremely talented with what they did, Cristina was the singer and Gianna the dancer. When the school talent show came around the judges had to announce a tie for the first time in thirty six years. Not that this bothered them, as Gianna and Cristina were more than happy to share the glory. "I mean he hasn't been apart of my life since I

The PK KidsCARLY ERLING

their innocence,” I said with a frightening sereneness. “What are you talking about?” Derek said, sounding confused. “I will not leave until I finish my mission,” I repeated. “Mission? What mission? Our only ‘mission’ is to find a way to get things back to normal,” Derek hissed. “I am not leaving!” I yelled. If only he knew that I was trying to save him… “If you won’t come out, then I’ll make you,” “What do you mean? What are you going to do?” I asked with a certain tension in my voice. Silence. “Derek?” I asked once more. More silence. “Fine, just fine,” I yelled. I walked away from the Dream door and ran, desperate to reach the part of the brain required to finish the job, before Derek could live up to his threat. From that point on, the walls had doors every now and then. I ran while looking at the signs on the doors to make sure I didn’t pass it. Personal Info, Joys, Pet Peeves, Disasters, etc. Many doors later, I found my desired destination. The door looked like all the other doors in Derek’s mind: Tall, wooden, and polished. The only difference was how I felt standing in front of it. I felt strong, powerful, and utterly indestructible. I shouldn’t let the power get to me, it could be my demise. I wasn’t sure what to do from that point, I wasn’t sure what to think. It was my first time actually inside someone’s mind. The closest I’ve gotten to this was reading someone’s most secret thoughts. I didn’t know what would happen if I went in. There’s only one way to find out. I focused on the energy radiating from the door and willed myself to harness it. I felt its influence overfilling me and tried to cut into its source. Suddenly, a wave of images overwhelmed my mind. Lots of mythical beasts, their appearance distorted and messed with ‘till they looked far from frightening. Many of them were in the shadows, trying to hide, but from what? I saw many other things like worries and real

life problems, but most of his fears revolved around the demons we faced a few months ago. The whole team helped us destroy their essence, so what is Derek afraid of? They can’t come back...Right? “Okay, so if I go in, Derek will fear me ‘till I get out. Also, I won’t be able to get out, unless I have a wicked amount of power. There are monsters in there, but what can they do? They’re ideas, nothing more but mere thoughts,” I said to myself, trying to calm down. Going in means becoming an idea, too… I was about to twist the door knob when I heard Derek’s voice echo through the hall. “Stop it! Stop what you are doing!” Derek yelled. “You know, Derek, I’m getting tired of your childish tempers! What could be so bad you wouldn’t want your own girlfriend to know?” I shouted in a mix of anger, frustration, and doubt. What is he keeping from me?

The Light in the ShadowsChapter 3

ELISEO CORONA

I passed through the double-doors and took a look around to make sure I was in the right place. From the corner of my eye, I could see memories suspended in the creases of Derek’s mind. I stopped and took a look around Derek’s mind. My gosh, it’s huge, I thought as I saw how much space surrounded me. His mind was set up like a hallway. The floor was covered in a silk red carpet that cascaded into the horizon. The walls of his mind were lined with pictures of his most favored memories. I stepped closer to examine one of them and read the caption.

Heather GenterWith love may she R.I.P

2080-2100

His mother had died at childbirth. I examined the photo above the caption. Heather was a beautiful woman. She had a perfect jaw line and vivid blue eyes. Her hair was a gorgeous shade of dark brown and her skin was a soft shade of tan. She smiled as though she had the most amazing life. Yet I felt pity for her. Her smile looked a bit forced. When I looked into her eyes, I saw the real sadness in them. Why? I looked away from the photo and focused on the real reason I was there. I walked along the corridor, occasionally stopping to see other photos of his childhood. It seemed as though I’d been walking for hours, when I saw a door on the left hand side. I got in closer to inspect. The door had a sign that read:

Dreams

I didn’t know he had dreams, I thought to myself. I stepped away from the door and kept walking, but stopped mid-step and turned around. I couldn’t help but see what was inside. I briskly walked to the door and rested my hand on the knob.

This will go against everything I have fought for, I thought, Should I do it? Do it! A small demonic voice inside of me said. Derek is a human being, too. He deserves his privacy. He has kept too many things from me, this is the only way to be sure of anything. As many times as he has lied to me he has saved my life. Without trust, our relationship is nothing. He is trusting I will let him deal with his own problems. Just take a peak, he’ll never know. You will regret it if you do. Without a second thought, I turned the knob and... “Hey!” I instinctively turned around to see who called. “Who’s there?” I shouted, trying to sound more intimidating than the terrified 16 year old girl whom would only like to cower in the fetal position for the rest of her life. “Melony? Where are you?” Derek’s voice echoed through the hall of his mind. I looked around and tried to find him. When I was certain I couldn’t see him physically, I spoke to no one in particular. “I’m in your mind,” I responded, afraid of what his reaction might be. “Ha ha ha, very funny. Now, where are you? The team has been searching for you non-stop,” Derek said. “No, really. I used my psychic abilities and enhanced it so that I would be able to enter your mind through the look of your eyes,” I sputtered out rapidly. “You what?!? You...But...Do you even… How could you invade my privacy like that?” Derek yelled. “Could you keep it down? When you yell, I feel like I’m experiencing a level 6 earthquake, so cool it!” I yelled back. “I want you out of there, now!” Derek said, a little quieter. “And I will get out...Right when I’m done with what I have to do,” I murmured. “Done with what? Is this about Diana? I have no feelings for her, I swear,” Derek said. A sense of rage passed through me. I didn’t even mention Diana! Where did he get that from? “Only those whom are guilty are eager to prove

“This is your last chance, Mel,” Derek warned. “What are you going to do?” I called out his bluff, arms crossed. With a sudden Bang, a door on the other side of the hall opened and white men came out. They weren’t exactly human, though. They were completely white and held the form of a human, but they had no detail what-so-ever. They looked like walking mannequins… Then they all talked in unison. “We are the Leukocytes. We have detected an unauthorized approach in the central system of this body. You will leave, willingly or forcefully.” The freakiest part of it all was that they all sounded like Derek. Although they talked, I never saw a sign of movement. They didn’t even have mouths! I froze. I was talking to leukocytes. I was talking to white cells. “I-I-I can’t leave, I’ve g-gotta save him,” I stuttered “We are the Leukocytes. Whatever is a threat to him, we will take care of,” The group stated, without emotion. “You see, I’m not a threat. I am here to help Derek,” I pleaded. “We have received orders from the Encephalon to exterminate you if you do not cooperate,” The cells spoke. “So the brain wants me dead?” I asked, not believing in their words. How could Derek do this? “Will you cooperate, Melony Renson?” The cells questioned. “Let me save him. Please,” I begged. “Negatory,” The cells responded. They switched from a human form to oblong shapes. When the transformation was complete, the cells came after me, floating in mid-air. As I turned to run, I saw the Fear door was open. No, I-I-I did not open it, I thought, panic flooding me as I ran. As I started to realize what happened, I sprinted to my next destination: The Control Room. My worst fears were realized. The demons were alive again and they were in Derek’s brain.

Page 7: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

was, like, two. The only thing I know about him is his signature!" Gianna said angrily to Cristina referring to her dad, who literally walked out of her life when she was two years old. Her mother and father worked it out that he would pay for the extracurricular activities his son and daughter would do and her mother would take care of the children and provide the food, shelter and clothes. By doing so her father insured that his children would remember him and stay dependent on him without his need to be there in their life's. "Maybe he's realized that he's wasted to much time and he wants to make up for it?" Cristina replied, ever the optimist. "Ya, totally." Gianna replied, jamming her binder into her bag with a unparalleled force. "Think positive!" Cristina said referring to the latest musical they were in, "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." "Don't" Gianna said joked, remembering the hours of preparation they spent for that show. They zipped up their bags and walked down the hall, swinging their bags as they walked. As they walked into the cafeteria together, a crowd of girls surrounded them, inquiring about their weekend plans. They finally made their way outside of the school and began the short walk to the gated

UntitledHANNAH LEE

Summer SweetsEMILY MILLER

community where Cristina and Gianna's father lived. Clearwater Middle School was situated smack in the middle of their town. The irony in their towns name was hilarious, given the fact that town was situated in the middle of one of many southern Louisiana swamps, here the water was anything but clear. Many of the schools students came from the upper class neighborhoods and therefore did not have to deal with the swamp water and mud. A few though like Gianna came from the swampy bungalows and hated the towns name and the mud, remembering the amount of shoes that they've lost due to the swampy marshland called Clearwater. Gianna and Cristina walked through the gates towards the subdivision, the guard knew Gianna well from all of her visits to Cristina's house and just nodded at them. Gianna and Cristina walked up to Gianna's father's house in silence. Gianna's father, a perfectionist, made sure that the home was renovated to his taste, controlling everything from floor color to countertops to the type of flowers in the giant vase on the table in foyer. "Here goes nothing," Gianna muttered as she stepped up and rang the doorbell. "Think-" Cristina started but was cut off by the door opening with a dramatic, whoosh.

Out of the Spotlight (Part One)

BY ALICIA HORNGianna stared out the window of her eighth period class, trying to pay attention to what her math teacher was saying but with no luck. She, like most of her math class was thinking about the upcoming weekend, however unlike the rest she was dreading it. "Gianna!" Her math teacher, Ms. Clayton, yelled, interrupting her thoughts and jolting her back to the present. The whole class snickered, and Jason Krindle in the front led a chorus of "Ya, Gianna"s. "Enough!" Ms. Clayton snapped, annoyed by the lack of focus of her class towards the topic of 'linear graphs'. "Now, Jason how about you explain why this graph is linear." "But, Gianna was zoning out, not me!" Jason protested, walking up to the board and glaring at Gianna. "NOW!" "Ok fine. It's linear because..." Jason began. Gianna glanced over at her friend Cristina, who tossed her a sympathetic glance and rolled her eyes at the stupidity of Jason's answer to the question. Gianna laughed and turned forward to act completely immersed in Ms. Clayton's rant about poor study habits and missing assignments. Her rant was cut short by the bell signifying the end of the past 45 grueling minutes. Gianna grabbed her stuff and waited for Cristina by the door. Cristina caught up to her and together they plunged into the depths of middle school craziness, the hallway. As they made their way to the stairs which seemed to be miles away but were in reality, ten feet away, two girls walked by laughing at the top of their lungs. One of the girls slammed into Cristina and muttered a sorry. As they finally made it to their lockers, Gianna remembered how ecstatic they were at the beginning of the year when they found out their lockers were right next door to each other. Gianna's mom was surprised by the lack of kids whose last name came between Starr and Twist. The only true time at school Gianna and Cristina

could talk alone together was at their lockers. Oh yeah and math class, but who has really deep heart to hearts in math class? It wasn't that they didn't have class together because they almost had the exact same schedule, the problem was that they were both really popular and were always surrounded by a group of people who claimed to be their "close friends". Gianna knew that they only liked the Gianna they thought they knew, not the real Gianna. Gianna and Cristina met in fourth grade after Cristina had just moved in. For two weeks they were rivals always trying to outdo each other but then one day, to everyone's surprise, they walked in hand in hand laughing and talking with each other. Cristina was the only person Gianna trusted with knowing her true backstory, her "life out of the spotlight" and Cristina only trusted Gianna with the truth of why she and her family moved. Both Cristina and Gianna had a powerful stage presence and were extremely talented with what they did, Cristina was the singer and Gianna the dancer. When the school talent show came around the judges had to announce a tie for the first time in thirty six years. Not that this bothered them, as Gianna and Cristina were more than happy to share the glory. "I mean he hasn't been apart of my life since I

their innocence,” I said with a frightening sereneness. “What are you talking about?” Derek said, sounding confused. “I will not leave until I finish my mission,” I repeated. “Mission? What mission? Our only ‘mission’ is to find a way to get things back to normal,” Derek hissed. “I am not leaving!” I yelled. If only he knew that I was trying to save him… “If you won’t come out, then I’ll make you,” “What do you mean? What are you going to do?” I asked with a certain tension in my voice. Silence. “Derek?” I asked once more. More silence. “Fine, just fine,” I yelled. I walked away from the Dream door and ran, desperate to reach the part of the brain required to finish the job, before Derek could live up to his threat. From that point on, the walls had doors every now and then. I ran while looking at the signs on the doors to make sure I didn’t pass it. Personal Info, Joys, Pet Peeves, Disasters, etc. Many doors later, I found my desired destination. The door looked like all the other doors in Derek’s mind: Tall, wooden, and polished. The only difference was how I felt standing in front of it. I felt strong, powerful, and utterly indestructible. I shouldn’t let the power get to me, it could be my demise. I wasn’t sure what to do from that point, I wasn’t sure what to think. It was my first time actually inside someone’s mind. The closest I’ve gotten to this was reading someone’s most secret thoughts. I didn’t know what would happen if I went in. There’s only one way to find out. I focused on the energy radiating from the door and willed myself to harness it. I felt its influence overfilling me and tried to cut into its source. Suddenly, a wave of images overwhelmed my mind. Lots of mythical beasts, their appearance distorted and messed with ‘till they looked far from frightening. Many of them were in the shadows, trying to hide, but from what? I saw many other things like worries and real

life problems, but most of his fears revolved around the demons we faced a few months ago. The whole team helped us destroy their essence, so what is Derek afraid of? They can’t come back...Right? “Okay, so if I go in, Derek will fear me ‘till I get out. Also, I won’t be able to get out, unless I have a wicked amount of power. There are monsters in there, but what can they do? They’re ideas, nothing more but mere thoughts,” I said to myself, trying to calm down. Going in means becoming an idea, too… I was about to twist the door knob when I heard Derek’s voice echo through the hall. “Stop it! Stop what you are doing!” Derek yelled. “You know, Derek, I’m getting tired of your childish tempers! What could be so bad you wouldn’t want your own girlfriend to know?” I shouted in a mix of anger, frustration, and doubt. What is he keeping from me?

The Light in the ShadowsChapter 3

ELISEO CORONA

I passed through the double-doors and took a look around to make sure I was in the right place. From the corner of my eye, I could see memories suspended in the creases of Derek’s mind. I stopped and took a look around Derek’s mind. My gosh, it’s huge, I thought as I saw how much space surrounded me. His mind was set up like a hallway. The floor was covered in a silk red carpet that cascaded into the horizon. The walls of his mind were lined with pictures of his most favored memories. I stepped closer to examine one of them and read the caption.

Heather GenterWith love may she R.I.P

2080-2100

His mother had died at childbirth. I examined the photo above the caption. Heather was a beautiful woman. She had a perfect jaw line and vivid blue eyes. Her hair was a gorgeous shade of dark brown and her skin was a soft shade of tan. She smiled as though she had the most amazing life. Yet I felt pity for her. Her smile looked a bit forced. When I looked into her eyes, I saw the real sadness in them. Why? I looked away from the photo and focused on the real reason I was there. I walked along the corridor, occasionally stopping to see other photos of his childhood. It seemed as though I’d been walking for hours, when I saw a door on the left hand side. I got in closer to inspect. The door had a sign that read:

Dreams

I didn’t know he had dreams, I thought to myself. I stepped away from the door and kept walking, but stopped mid-step and turned around. I couldn’t help but see what was inside. I briskly walked to the door and rested my hand on the knob.

This will go against everything I have fought for, I thought, Should I do it? Do it! A small demonic voice inside of me said. Derek is a human being, too. He deserves his privacy. He has kept too many things from me, this is the only way to be sure of anything. As many times as he has lied to me he has saved my life. Without trust, our relationship is nothing. He is trusting I will let him deal with his own problems. Just take a peak, he’ll never know. You will regret it if you do. Without a second thought, I turned the knob and... “Hey!” I instinctively turned around to see who called. “Who’s there?” I shouted, trying to sound more intimidating than the terrified 16 year old girl whom would only like to cower in the fetal position for the rest of her life. “Melony? Where are you?” Derek’s voice echoed through the hall of his mind. I looked around and tried to find him. When I was certain I couldn’t see him physically, I spoke to no one in particular. “I’m in your mind,” I responded, afraid of what his reaction might be. “Ha ha ha, very funny. Now, where are you? The team has been searching for you non-stop,” Derek said. “No, really. I used my psychic abilities and enhanced it so that I would be able to enter your mind through the look of your eyes,” I sputtered out rapidly. “You what?!? You...But...Do you even… How could you invade my privacy like that?” Derek yelled. “Could you keep it down? When you yell, I feel like I’m experiencing a level 6 earthquake, so cool it!” I yelled back. “I want you out of there, now!” Derek said, a little quieter. “And I will get out...Right when I’m done with what I have to do,” I murmured. “Done with what? Is this about Diana? I have no feelings for her, I swear,” Derek said. A sense of rage passed through me. I didn’t even mention Diana! Where did he get that from? “Only those whom are guilty are eager to prove

“This is your last chance, Mel,” Derek warned. “What are you going to do?” I called out his bluff, arms crossed. With a sudden Bang, a door on the other side of the hall opened and white men came out. They weren’t exactly human, though. They were completely white and held the form of a human, but they had no detail what-so-ever. They looked like walking mannequins… Then they all talked in unison. “We are the Leukocytes. We have detected an unauthorized approach in the central system of this body. You will leave, willingly or forcefully.” The freakiest part of it all was that they all sounded like Derek. Although they talked, I never saw a sign of movement. They didn’t even have mouths! I froze. I was talking to leukocytes. I was talking to white cells. “I-I-I can’t leave, I’ve g-gotta save him,” I stuttered “We are the Leukocytes. Whatever is a threat to him, we will take care of,” The group stated, without emotion. “You see, I’m not a threat. I am here to help Derek,” I pleaded. “We have received orders from the Encephalon to exterminate you if you do not cooperate,” The cells spoke. “So the brain wants me dead?” I asked, not believing in their words. How could Derek do this? “Will you cooperate, Melony Renson?” The cells questioned. “Let me save him. Please,” I begged. “Negatory,” The cells responded. They switched from a human form to oblong shapes. When the transformation was complete, the cells came after me, floating in mid-air. As I turned to run, I saw the Fear door was open. No, I-I-I did not open it, I thought, panic flooding me as I ran. As I started to realize what happened, I sprinted to my next destination: The Control Room. My worst fears were realized. The demons were alive again and they were in Derek’s brain.

Page 8: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

A Hundred Shades Of Green

SAMANTHA HARVILLE

Background info: I am a 2nd degree black belt from Dragon Kido Authentic Martial Arts, a local family-oriented academy, which teaches self-defense featuring training in Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Hapkido, weaponry, and blended arts. Last summer, our school permanently adopted the “Footprints in Time” Park, located in downtown South Elgin. On several occasions, members of the Junior Black Belt Club, including myself, donated our time to clean up this park and help beautify our community. This is our true story…

I believe that everyone should get a little dirt underneath his or her fingernails. The immense satisfaction garnered from contributing to the beauty of the largest canvas of them all, through simple manual labor, is an extremely worthwhile pursuit. Grasping weeds with sweaty hands and yanking them from the grateful soil, or lovingly planting the purple spires of Russian Sage for future generations to behold is not only a beneficial task, but an important responsibility everybody shares. I gathered with my devoted Black Belt companions one scorching July afternoon to restore a local park we recently adopted to its former glory. Although our rag-tag team was equipped with nothing but a few buckets, shovels, and rakes, we were determined to eliminate the debris. Tools dug into the ground for the umpteenth time, fluffing the mulch to freshen up the tired space. Overgrown and formidably spiky weeds were painstakingly eradicated and our pails

were quickly filled. Nevertheless, our sunburned backs kept diligently bending over to continue working, as our disciplined martial arts training had instilled an iron will in all of us many years before. Huge masses of sticks and craggy stones were heaped onto one another in the center of a clearing, and brush was swept off the walkways, revealing intricate masonry. As the hours ticked by, our enthusiasm was in danger of dropping to critical levels. However, the reward came swiftly thereafter. Implements were set aside, gloves were removed from calloused hands, and perspiration was wiped from brows for the last time that day. Our circle of weekend warriors glanced around, unable to believe our weary eyes. What had begun as a neglected area of south Elgin had become a shining example of perseverance at its best. Quietly, we collected our gardening supplies and slipped away, not wishing to gloat, and leaving the task of assessing the quality of our job to the next visitor.

The most distinguishing signs our small but mighty troop left on the landscape were three hearty new prairie plants, soaking up the rays that had fueled our intense labor. Some may say that no magic lies in that downtown park on the street corner, that getting its compacted dirt under one’s fingernails serves no purpose whatsoever. I disagree whole- heartedly. We formed a new bond that day, my comrades and I, by becoming one with the land from which we were raised upon, but more importantly, we tapped into a greater ideal. The fruits of our labor still stand, both physically in the special green plot known as “Footprints in Time,” and in our hearts. No matter what occurs down the road, we shall always have each other to rely on. A single color, green, symbolizes our great Mother Earth. But after my humbling experience, I am capable of seeing not one, but a hundred shades of green wherever my journeys take me.

HEALDEVIN WISNEWSKI

SWEET TREATSASHLEY MILLER

Page 9: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

Room with no doorsBY:MAYA MCMAHON

The girl who laughs the loudest

Who smiles the biggest

Who you think is the happiest is really the saddest

She covers the scars and broken pieces with a smile

People just said that she cut for attention

She thought that no one would miss her

The girl who you thought was the sweetest has secrets

The girl who you called obsessed just has dreams

She felt trapped in a room with no doors

She wanted to die so bad that she didn’t care anymore

The only people who were there for her were 5 boys

Harry,Zayn,Liam,Niall,and Louis

No one thought that something was wrong

She always talked about death

But no one ever said anything

She was trapped in a room with no doors

The scars on the inside never heal unlike the scars on the outside

A Hundred Shades Of Green

SAMANTHA HARVILLE

Background info: I am a 2nd degree black belt from Dragon Kido Authentic Martial Arts, a local family-oriented academy, which teaches self-defense featuring training in Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Hapkido, weaponry, and blended arts. Last summer, our school permanently adopted the “Footprints in Time” Park, located in downtown South Elgin. On several occasions, members of the Junior Black Belt Club, including myself, donated our time to clean up this park and help beautify our community. This is our true story…

I believe that everyone should get a little dirt underneath his or her fingernails. The immense satisfaction garnered from contributing to the beauty of the largest canvas of them all, through simple manual labor, is an extremely worthwhile pursuit. Grasping weeds with sweaty hands and yanking them from the grateful soil, or lovingly planting the purple spires of Russian Sage for future generations to behold is not only a beneficial task, but an important responsibility everybody shares. I gathered with my devoted Black Belt companions one scorching July afternoon to restore a local park we recently adopted to its former glory. Although our rag-tag team was equipped with nothing but a few buckets, shovels, and rakes, we were determined to eliminate the debris. Tools dug into the ground for the umpteenth time, fluffing the mulch to freshen up the tired space. Overgrown and formidably spiky weeds were painstakingly eradicated and our pails

were quickly filled. Nevertheless, our sunburned backs kept diligently bending over to continue working, as our disciplined martial arts training had instilled an iron will in all of us many years before. Huge masses of sticks and craggy stones were heaped onto one another in the center of a clearing, and brush was swept off the walkways, revealing intricate masonry. As the hours ticked by, our enthusiasm was in danger of dropping to critical levels. However, the reward came swiftly thereafter. Implements were set aside, gloves were removed from calloused hands, and perspiration was wiped from brows for the last time that day. Our circle of weekend warriors glanced around, unable to believe our weary eyes. What had begun as a neglected area of south Elgin had become a shining example of perseverance at its best. Quietly, we collected our gardening supplies and slipped away, not wishing to gloat, and leaving the task of assessing the quality of our job to the next visitor.

The most distinguishing signs our small but mighty troop left on the landscape were three hearty new prairie plants, soaking up the rays that had fueled our intense labor. Some may say that no magic lies in that downtown park on the street corner, that getting its compacted dirt under one’s fingernails serves no purpose whatsoever. I disagree whole- heartedly. We formed a new bond that day, my comrades and I, by becoming one with the land from which we were raised upon, but more importantly, we tapped into a greater ideal. The fruits of our labor still stand, both physically in the special green plot known as “Footprints in Time,” and in our hearts. No matter what occurs down the road, we shall always have each other to rely on. A single color, green, symbolizes our great Mother Earth. But after my humbling experience, I am capable of seeing not one, but a hundred shades of green wherever my journeys take me.

SWEET TREATSASHLEY MILLER

Page 10: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

was, like, two. The only thing I know about him is his signature!" Gianna said angrily to Cristina referring to her dad, who literally walked out of her life when she was two years old. Her mother and father worked it out that he would pay for the extracurricular activities his son and daughter would do and her mother would take care of the children and provide the food, shelter and clothes. By doing so her father insured that his children would remember him and stay dependent on him without his need to be there in their life's. "Maybe he's realized that he's wasted to much time and he wants to make up for it?" Cristina replied, ever the optimist. "Ya, totally." Gianna replied, jamming her binder into her bag with a unparalleled force. "Think positive!" Cristina said referring to the latest musical they were in, "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." "Don't" Gianna said joked, remembering the hours of preparation they spent for that show. They zipped up their bags and walked down the hall, swinging their bags as they walked. As they walked into the cafeteria together, a crowd of girls surrounded them, inquiring about their weekend plans. They finally made their way outside of the school and began the short walk to the gated

community where Cristina and Gianna's father lived. Clearwater Middle School was situated smack in the middle of their town. The irony in their towns name was hilarious, given the fact that town was situated in the middle of one of many southern Louisiana swamps, here the water was anything but clear. Many of the schools students came from the upper class neighborhoods and therefore did not have to deal with the swamp water and mud. A few though like Gianna came from the swampy bungalows and hated the towns name and the mud, remembering the amount of shoes that they've lost due to the swampy marshland called Clearwater. Gianna and Cristina walked through the gates towards the subdivision, the guard knew Gianna well from all of her visits to Cristina's house and just nodded at them. Gianna and Cristina walked up to Gianna's father's house in silence. Gianna's father, a perfectionist, made sure that the home was renovated to his taste, controlling everything from floor color to countertops to the type of flowers in the giant vase on the table in foyer. "Here goes nothing," Gianna muttered as she stepped up and rang the doorbell. "Think-" Cristina started but was cut off by the door opening with a dramatic, whoosh.

Out of the Spotlight (Part One)

BY ALICIA HORNGianna stared out the window of her eighth period class, trying to pay attention to what her math teacher was saying but with no luck. She, like most of her math class was thinking about the upcoming weekend, however unlike the rest she was dreading it. "Gianna!" Her math teacher, Ms. Clayton, yelled, interrupting her thoughts and jolting her back to the present. The whole class snickered, and Jason Krindle in the front led a chorus of "Ya, Gianna"s. "Enough!" Ms. Clayton snapped, annoyed by the lack of focus of her class towards the topic of 'linear graphs'. "Now, Jason how about you explain why this graph is linear." "But, Gianna was zoning out, not me!" Jason protested, walking up to the board and glaring at Gianna. "NOW!" "Ok fine. It's linear because..." Jason began. Gianna glanced over at her friend Cristina, who tossed her a sympathetic glance and rolled her eyes at the stupidity of Jason's answer to the question. Gianna laughed and turned forward to act completely immersed in Ms. Clayton's rant about poor study habits and missing assignments. Her rant was cut short by the bell signifying the end of the past 45 grueling minutes. Gianna grabbed her stuff and waited for Cristina by the door. Cristina caught up to her and together they plunged into the depths of middle school craziness, the hallway. As they made their way to the stairs which seemed to be miles away but were in reality, ten feet away, two girls walked by laughing at the top of their lungs. One of the girls slammed into Cristina and muttered a sorry. As they finally made it to their lockers, Gianna remembered how ecstatic they were at the beginning of the year when they found out their lockers were right next door to each other. Gianna's mom was surprised by the lack of kids whose last name came between Starr and Twist. The only true time at school Gianna and Cristina

could talk alone together was at their lockers. Oh yeah and math class, but who has really deep heart to hearts in math class? It wasn't that they didn't have class together because they almost had the exact same schedule, the problem was that they were both really popular and were always surrounded by a group of people who claimed to be their "close friends". Gianna knew that they only liked the Gianna they thought they knew, not the real Gianna. Gianna and Cristina met in fourth grade after Cristina had just moved in. For two weeks they were rivals always trying to outdo each other but then one day, to everyone's surprise, they walked in hand in hand laughing and talking with each other. Cristina was the only person Gianna trusted with knowing her true backstory, her "life out of the spotlight" and Cristina only trusted Gianna with the truth of why she and her family moved. Both Cristina and Gianna had a powerful stage presence and were extremely talented with what they did, Cristina was the singer and Gianna the dancer. When the school talent show came around the judges had to announce a tie for the first time in thirty six years. Not that this bothered them, as Gianna and Cristina were more than happy to share the glory. "I mean he hasn't been apart of my life since I

their innocence,” I said with a frightening sereneness. “What are you talking about?” Derek said, sounding confused. “I will not leave until I finish my mission,” I repeated. “Mission? What mission? Our only ‘mission’ is to find a way to get things back to normal,” Derek hissed. “I am not leaving!” I yelled. If only he knew that I was trying to save him… “If you won’t come out, then I’ll make you,” “What do you mean? What are you going to do?” I asked with a certain tension in my voice. Silence. “Derek?” I asked once more. More silence. “Fine, just fine,” I yelled. I walked away from the Dream door and ran, desperate to reach the part of the brain required to finish the job, before Derek could live up to his threat. From that point on, the walls had doors every now and then. I ran while looking at the signs on the doors to make sure I didn’t pass it. Personal Info, Joys, Pet Peeves, Disasters, etc. Many doors later, I found my desired destination. The door looked like all the other doors in Derek’s mind: Tall, wooden, and polished. The only difference was how I felt standing in front of it. I felt strong, powerful, and utterly indestructible. I shouldn’t let the power get to me, it could be my demise. I wasn’t sure what to do from that point, I wasn’t sure what to think. It was my first time actually inside someone’s mind. The closest I’ve gotten to this was reading someone’s most secret thoughts. I didn’t know what would happen if I went in. There’s only one way to find out. I focused on the energy radiating from the door and willed myself to harness it. I felt its influence overfilling me and tried to cut into its source. Suddenly, a wave of images overwhelmed my mind. Lots of mythical beasts, their appearance distorted and messed with ‘till they looked far from frightening. Many of them were in the shadows, trying to hide, but from what? I saw many other things like worries and real

life problems, but most of his fears revolved around the demons we faced a few months ago. The whole team helped us destroy their essence, so what is Derek afraid of? They can’t come back...Right? “Okay, so if I go in, Derek will fear me ‘till I get out. Also, I won’t be able to get out, unless I have a wicked amount of power. There are monsters in there, but what can they do? They’re ideas, nothing more but mere thoughts,” I said to myself, trying to calm down. Going in means becoming an idea, too… I was about to twist the door knob when I heard Derek’s voice echo through the hall. “Stop it! Stop what you are doing!” Derek yelled. “You know, Derek, I’m getting tired of your childish tempers! What could be so bad you wouldn’t want your own girlfriend to know?” I shouted in a mix of anger, frustration, and doubt. What is he keeping from me?

The Light in the ShadowsChapter 3

ELISEO CORONA

I passed through the double-doors and took a look around to make sure I was in the right place. From the corner of my eye, I could see memories suspended in the creases of Derek’s mind. I stopped and took a look around Derek’s mind. My gosh, it’s huge, I thought as I saw how much space surrounded me. His mind was set up like a hallway. The floor was covered in a silk red carpet that cascaded into the horizon. The walls of his mind were lined with pictures of his most favored memories. I stepped closer to examine one of them and read the caption.

Heather GenterWith love may she R.I.P

2080-2100

His mother had died at childbirth. I examined the photo above the caption. Heather was a beautiful woman. She had a perfect jaw line and vivid blue eyes. Her hair was a gorgeous shade of dark brown and her skin was a soft shade of tan. She smiled as though she had the most amazing life. Yet I felt pity for her. Her smile looked a bit forced. When I looked into her eyes, I saw the real sadness in them. Why? I looked away from the photo and focused on the real reason I was there. I walked along the corridor, occasionally stopping to see other photos of his childhood. It seemed as though I’d been walking for hours, when I saw a door on the left hand side. I got in closer to inspect. The door had a sign that read:

Dreams

I didn’t know he had dreams, I thought to myself. I stepped away from the door and kept walking, but stopped mid-step and turned around. I couldn’t help but see what was inside. I briskly walked to the door and rested my hand on the knob.

This will go against everything I have fought for, I thought, Should I do it? Do it! A small demonic voice inside of me said. Derek is a human being, too. He deserves his privacy. He has kept too many things from me, this is the only way to be sure of anything. As many times as he has lied to me he has saved my life. Without trust, our relationship is nothing. He is trusting I will let him deal with his own problems. Just take a peak, he’ll never know. You will regret it if you do. Without a second thought, I turned the knob and... “Hey!” I instinctively turned around to see who called. “Who’s there?” I shouted, trying to sound more intimidating than the terrified 16 year old girl whom would only like to cower in the fetal position for the rest of her life. “Melony? Where are you?” Derek’s voice echoed through the hall of his mind. I looked around and tried to find him. When I was certain I couldn’t see him physically, I spoke to no one in particular. “I’m in your mind,” I responded, afraid of what his reaction might be. “Ha ha ha, very funny. Now, where are you? The team has been searching for you non-stop,” Derek said. “No, really. I used my psychic abilities and enhanced it so that I would be able to enter your mind through the look of your eyes,” I sputtered out rapidly. “You what?!? You...But...Do you even… How could you invade my privacy like that?” Derek yelled. “Could you keep it down? When you yell, I feel like I’m experiencing a level 6 earthquake, so cool it!” I yelled back. “I want you out of there, now!” Derek said, a little quieter. “And I will get out...Right when I’m done with what I have to do,” I murmured. “Done with what? Is this about Diana? I have no feelings for her, I swear,” Derek said. A sense of rage passed through me. I didn’t even mention Diana! Where did he get that from? “Only those whom are guilty are eager to prove

“This is your last chance, Mel,” Derek warned. “What are you going to do?” I called out his bluff, arms crossed. With a sudden Bang, a door on the other side of the hall opened and white men came out. They weren’t exactly human, though. They were completely white and held the form of a human, but they had no detail what-so-ever. They looked like walking mannequins… Then they all talked in unison. “We are the Leukocytes. We have detected an unauthorized approach in the central system of this body. You will leave, willingly or forcefully.” The freakiest part of it all was that they all sounded like Derek. Although they talked, I never saw a sign of movement. They didn’t even have mouths! I froze. I was talking to leukocytes. I was talking to white cells. “I-I-I can’t leave, I’ve g-gotta save him,” I stuttered “We are the Leukocytes. Whatever is a threat to him, we will take care of,” The group stated, without emotion. “You see, I’m not a threat. I am here to help Derek,” I pleaded. “We have received orders from the Encephalon to exterminate you if you do not cooperate,” The cells spoke. “So the brain wants me dead?” I asked, not believing in their words. How could Derek do this? “Will you cooperate, Melony Renson?” The cells questioned. “Let me save him. Please,” I begged. “Negatory,” The cells responded. They switched from a human form to oblong shapes. When the transformation was complete, the cells came after me, floating in mid-air. As I turned to run, I saw the Fear door was open. No, I-I-I did not open it, I thought, panic flooding me as I ran. As I started to realize what happened, I sprinted to my next destination: The Control Room. My worst fears were realized. The demons were alive again and they were in Derek’s brain.

Page 11: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

was, like, two. The only thing I know about him is his signature!" Gianna said angrily to Cristina referring to her dad, who literally walked out of her life when she was two years old. Her mother and father worked it out that he would pay for the extracurricular activities his son and daughter would do and her mother would take care of the children and provide the food, shelter and clothes. By doing so her father insured that his children would remember him and stay dependent on him without his need to be there in their life's. "Maybe he's realized that he's wasted to much time and he wants to make up for it?" Cristina replied, ever the optimist. "Ya, totally." Gianna replied, jamming her binder into her bag with a unparalleled force. "Think positive!" Cristina said referring to the latest musical they were in, "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." "Don't" Gianna said joked, remembering the hours of preparation they spent for that show. They zipped up their bags and walked down the hall, swinging their bags as they walked. As they walked into the cafeteria together, a crowd of girls surrounded them, inquiring about their weekend plans. They finally made their way outside of the school and began the short walk to the gated

community where Cristina and Gianna's father lived. Clearwater Middle School was situated smack in the middle of their town. The irony in their towns name was hilarious, given the fact that town was situated in the middle of one of many southern Louisiana swamps, here the water was anything but clear. Many of the schools students came from the upper class neighborhoods and therefore did not have to deal with the swamp water and mud. A few though like Gianna came from the swampy bungalows and hated the towns name and the mud, remembering the amount of shoes that they've lost due to the swampy marshland called Clearwater. Gianna and Cristina walked through the gates towards the subdivision, the guard knew Gianna well from all of her visits to Cristina's house and just nodded at them. Gianna and Cristina walked up to Gianna's father's house in silence. Gianna's father, a perfectionist, made sure that the home was renovated to his taste, controlling everything from floor color to countertops to the type of flowers in the giant vase on the table in foyer. "Here goes nothing," Gianna muttered as she stepped up and rang the doorbell. "Think-" Cristina started but was cut off by the door opening with a dramatic, whoosh.

Out of the Spotlight (Part One)

BY ALICIA HORNGianna stared out the window of her eighth period class, trying to pay attention to what her math teacher was saying but with no luck. She, like most of her math class was thinking about the upcoming weekend, however unlike the rest she was dreading it. "Gianna!" Her math teacher, Ms. Clayton, yelled, interrupting her thoughts and jolting her back to the present. The whole class snickered, and Jason Krindle in the front led a chorus of "Ya, Gianna"s. "Enough!" Ms. Clayton snapped, annoyed by the lack of focus of her class towards the topic of 'linear graphs'. "Now, Jason how about you explain why this graph is linear." "But, Gianna was zoning out, not me!" Jason protested, walking up to the board and glaring at Gianna. "NOW!" "Ok fine. It's linear because..." Jason began. Gianna glanced over at her friend Cristina, who tossed her a sympathetic glance and rolled her eyes at the stupidity of Jason's answer to the question. Gianna laughed and turned forward to act completely immersed in Ms. Clayton's rant about poor study habits and missing assignments. Her rant was cut short by the bell signifying the end of the past 45 grueling minutes. Gianna grabbed her stuff and waited for Cristina by the door. Cristina caught up to her and together they plunged into the depths of middle school craziness, the hallway. As they made their way to the stairs which seemed to be miles away but were in reality, ten feet away, two girls walked by laughing at the top of their lungs. One of the girls slammed into Cristina and muttered a sorry. As they finally made it to their lockers, Gianna remembered how ecstatic they were at the beginning of the year when they found out their lockers were right next door to each other. Gianna's mom was surprised by the lack of kids whose last name came between Starr and Twist. The only true time at school Gianna and Cristina

could talk alone together was at their lockers. Oh yeah and math class, but who has really deep heart to hearts in math class? It wasn't that they didn't have class together because they almost had the exact same schedule, the problem was that they were both really popular and were always surrounded by a group of people who claimed to be their "close friends". Gianna knew that they only liked the Gianna they thought they knew, not the real Gianna. Gianna and Cristina met in fourth grade after Cristina had just moved in. For two weeks they were rivals always trying to outdo each other but then one day, to everyone's surprise, they walked in hand in hand laughing and talking with each other. Cristina was the only person Gianna trusted with knowing her true backstory, her "life out of the spotlight" and Cristina only trusted Gianna with the truth of why she and her family moved. Both Cristina and Gianna had a powerful stage presence and were extremely talented with what they did, Cristina was the singer and Gianna the dancer. When the school talent show came around the judges had to announce a tie for the first time in thirty six years. Not that this bothered them, as Gianna and Cristina were more than happy to share the glory. "I mean he hasn't been apart of my life since I

their innocence,” I said with a frightening sereneness. “What are you talking about?” Derek said, sounding confused. “I will not leave until I finish my mission,” I repeated. “Mission? What mission? Our only ‘mission’ is to find a way to get things back to normal,” Derek hissed. “I am not leaving!” I yelled. If only he knew that I was trying to save him… “If you won’t come out, then I’ll make you,” “What do you mean? What are you going to do?” I asked with a certain tension in my voice. Silence. “Derek?” I asked once more. More silence. “Fine, just fine,” I yelled. I walked away from the Dream door and ran, desperate to reach the part of the brain required to finish the job, before Derek could live up to his threat. From that point on, the walls had doors every now and then. I ran while looking at the signs on the doors to make sure I didn’t pass it. Personal Info, Joys, Pet Peeves, Disasters, etc. Many doors later, I found my desired destination. The door looked like all the other doors in Derek’s mind: Tall, wooden, and polished. The only difference was how I felt standing in front of it. I felt strong, powerful, and utterly indestructible. I shouldn’t let the power get to me, it could be my demise. I wasn’t sure what to do from that point, I wasn’t sure what to think. It was my first time actually inside someone’s mind. The closest I’ve gotten to this was reading someone’s most secret thoughts. I didn’t know what would happen if I went in. There’s only one way to find out. I focused on the energy radiating from the door and willed myself to harness it. I felt its influence overfilling me and tried to cut into its source. Suddenly, a wave of images overwhelmed my mind. Lots of mythical beasts, their appearance distorted and messed with ‘till they looked far from frightening. Many of them were in the shadows, trying to hide, but from what? I saw many other things like worries and real

life problems, but most of his fears revolved around the demons we faced a few months ago. The whole team helped us destroy their essence, so what is Derek afraid of? They can’t come back...Right? “Okay, so if I go in, Derek will fear me ‘till I get out. Also, I won’t be able to get out, unless I have a wicked amount of power. There are monsters in there, but what can they do? They’re ideas, nothing more but mere thoughts,” I said to myself, trying to calm down. Going in means becoming an idea, too… I was about to twist the door knob when I heard Derek’s voice echo through the hall. “Stop it! Stop what you are doing!” Derek yelled. “You know, Derek, I’m getting tired of your childish tempers! What could be so bad you wouldn’t want your own girlfriend to know?” I shouted in a mix of anger, frustration, and doubt. What is he keeping from me?

BLEEDING HEARTGLORIA MORA

The Light in the ShadowsChapter 3

ELISEO CORONA

I passed through the double-doors and took a look around to make sure I was in the right place. From the corner of my eye, I could see memories suspended in the creases of Derek’s mind. I stopped and took a look around Derek’s mind. My gosh, it’s huge, I thought as I saw how much space surrounded me. His mind was set up like a hallway. The floor was covered in a silk red carpet that cascaded into the horizon. The walls of his mind were lined with pictures of his most favored memories. I stepped closer to examine one of them and read the caption.

Heather GenterWith love may she R.I.P

2080-2100

His mother had died at childbirth. I examined the photo above the caption. Heather was a beautiful woman. She had a perfect jaw line and vivid blue eyes. Her hair was a gorgeous shade of dark brown and her skin was a soft shade of tan. She smiled as though she had the most amazing life. Yet I felt pity for her. Her smile looked a bit forced. When I looked into her eyes, I saw the real sadness in them. Why? I looked away from the photo and focused on the real reason I was there. I walked along the corridor, occasionally stopping to see other photos of his childhood. It seemed as though I’d been walking for hours, when I saw a door on the left hand side. I got in closer to inspect. The door had a sign that read:

Dreams

I didn’t know he had dreams, I thought to myself. I stepped away from the door and kept walking, but stopped mid-step and turned around. I couldn’t help but see what was inside. I briskly walked to the door and rested my hand on the knob.

This will go against everything I have fought for, I thought, Should I do it? Do it! A small demonic voice inside of me said. Derek is a human being, too. He deserves his privacy. He has kept too many things from me, this is the only way to be sure of anything. As many times as he has lied to me he has saved my life. Without trust, our relationship is nothing. He is trusting I will let him deal with his own problems. Just take a peak, he’ll never know. You will regret it if you do. Without a second thought, I turned the knob and... “Hey!” I instinctively turned around to see who called. “Who’s there?” I shouted, trying to sound more intimidating than the terrified 16 year old girl whom would only like to cower in the fetal position for the rest of her life. “Melony? Where are you?” Derek’s voice echoed through the hall of his mind. I looked around and tried to find him. When I was certain I couldn’t see him physically, I spoke to no one in particular. “I’m in your mind,” I responded, afraid of what his reaction might be. “Ha ha ha, very funny. Now, where are you? The team has been searching for you non-stop,” Derek said. “No, really. I used my psychic abilities and enhanced it so that I would be able to enter your mind through the look of your eyes,” I sputtered out rapidly. “You what?!? You...But...Do you even… How could you invade my privacy like that?” Derek yelled. “Could you keep it down? When you yell, I feel like I’m experiencing a level 6 earthquake, so cool it!” I yelled back. “I want you out of there, now!” Derek said, a little quieter. “And I will get out...Right when I’m done with what I have to do,” I murmured. “Done with what? Is this about Diana? I have no feelings for her, I swear,” Derek said. A sense of rage passed through me. I didn’t even mention Diana! Where did he get that from? “Only those whom are guilty are eager to prove

“This is your last chance, Mel,” Derek warned. “What are you going to do?” I called out his bluff, arms crossed. With a sudden Bang, a door on the other side of the hall opened and white men came out. They weren’t exactly human, though. They were completely white and held the form of a human, but they had no detail what-so-ever. They looked like walking mannequins… Then they all talked in unison. “We are the Leukocytes. We have detected an unauthorized approach in the central system of this body. You will leave, willingly or forcefully.” The freakiest part of it all was that they all sounded like Derek. Although they talked, I never saw a sign of movement. They didn’t even have mouths! I froze. I was talking to leukocytes. I was talking to white cells. “I-I-I can’t leave, I’ve g-gotta save him,” I stuttered “We are the Leukocytes. Whatever is a threat to him, we will take care of,” The group stated, without emotion. “You see, I’m not a threat. I am here to help Derek,” I pleaded. “We have received orders from the Encephalon to exterminate you if you do not cooperate,” The cells spoke. “So the brain wants me dead?” I asked, not believing in their words. How could Derek do this? “Will you cooperate, Melony Renson?” The cells questioned. “Let me save him. Please,” I begged. “Negatory,” The cells responded. They switched from a human form to oblong shapes. When the transformation was complete, the cells came after me, floating in mid-air. As I turned to run, I saw the Fear door was open. No, I-I-I did not open it, I thought, panic flooding me as I ran. As I started to realize what happened, I sprinted to my next destination: The Control Room. My worst fears were realized. The demons were alive again and they were in Derek’s brain.

Page 12: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

Some say drumline’s a cult; others say we’re a family; while some say that we’re backstabbing, greedy, self-centered arrogant little bitches. While I like to think that the last thought isn’t true, it’s probably the most accurate description of drumline I’ve heard in a long time (if at all). But there are certain individuals in drumline I have grown to love, especially Aaron, Keane, Noah, and a couple freshman (class of 2018). And those people are the reasons why we call ourselves family; that’s why I didn’t commit suicide just days

before the parade. And that’s what I want to do 20 years from now. Be like Aaron, Keane, and Noah. Be that one person who was there when no one else was. I’m not sure how, I’m not sure where. But there’s no doubt in my mind that I’m going to do what I do and help others. And I guess I’ll start today saying: When life hands you a million reasons to quit, laugh at it and say, “Try me.” And never forget it.

Drumline’s FamilyBY EMILY PLACIDO

Between drumline, my first halftime show I will ever perform, depression, 3 parades, Red Gate Sound Project, and people finally reaching out to me, nothing will be more memorable than the first year of my high school career. The one thing that will stick with me is the St. Patrick’s Day parade of 2012. It was one of those days where no matter how hard the sun tried, it could not pop out behind the clouds. The band kids were huddled together like penguins trying to keep their body temperature up. With each breath, you could see a small cloud forming inches away from your mouth. If you remained still for even a minute, the air would start stinging at your cheeks and ears. I sit on the curb, scrolling through my photo library. My drumsticks sit in my lap. The air is finally chilling my bones and echoes through the rest of my body. You should get up and walk around, get some blood flowing. And I do exactly that. I don’t say a whole lot; at parades, I become the shy, quiet person no one expects me to be. I listen to the different conversations being held among the band nerds. But there’s one conversation that grabs my attention. If my memory serves me right, the conversation consisted of Noah, Keane, Robert, and Mac; the whole tenor line except me. “But how do you really know the grass is green, though?” Noah asks. “For all we know, your green could be my purple, Keane’s red, Robert’s black, and Emily’s rainbow.” “Because we grew up with all these things drilled in our head that the grass is green, the sky is blue, your name being your name, etc., once we start questioning that, we start to get uncomfortable. Sure, Mac could say he’s Mac, but for all we know, he could call himself Sharkesha Helga something or other instead of Mac and we wouldn’t know the difference,” I reply. “Greenhorn has a point,” Keane points out. “Society kinda drills things in our heads to make sure we don’t get to the point of questioning everything.” “Excuse me, did you just call me greenhorn?” I sass.

“Maybe,” Keane says, slowly stepping away from me. “You had all year to call me greenhorn and you’re just calling me that?” “You’re still a freshman,” Robert says. “Shut up, Captain llama pants!” I shout. “Shit. Robert, you weren’t supposed to know I call you Captain Llama Pants.” “Wait. If I’m captain llama pants, what does that make everyone else?” Robert asks. I sigh, using all will power to not end up laughing hysterically. “Noah’s the soulless ginger from South Park, Keane’s Swagman, and like I said, Mac is Sharkesha Helga something or other. Got it?” “What does that make you?” Keane asks. “I mean, you’re a lot of things, crazy being included, but I’m curious as to hear what you think you are.” “Oh that’s easy,” I reply. “The marvel fangirl. Duh. C’mon guys.” The sound of the drum major whistle blares through my ears and the tenor line heads toward their drums. One more picture for your bedroom wall. “Mac!” I shriek. “Pose for a picture!” I flip my camera to selfie mode and hold down the photo button. “Drum up, guys!” Todd shouts, leaving me no time to look at the pictures. I, along with the rest of drumline, drum up. Todd’s stick soon hits the snare drum head, counting down the seconds to step off of the 2012 St. Patrick’s Day parade. Fast forward a couple hours. I go through the pictures. I sit at home, alone in my room. My sister, Abbey, is at a friend’s house, Mom downstairs watching American Horror Story. A folder sits in front of me. My eyes read the words the center snare, two of our senior tenor players, and one of our bass drummers wrote. I gingerly hold the frail, thin lined paper between my thumb and index finger. So if you’re ever down, remember your family on drumline. My eyes find their way to the shelf holding my six hats (give or take one or two because it’s hard for me to keep track). The green soon sticks out like a sore thumb, the plaid and superficial stitching standing out against the cream colored wall. It will forever serve as a reminder that I’m needed, and more importantly, I’m wanted.

their innocence,” I said with a frightening sereneness. “What are you talking about?” Derek said, sounding confused. “I will not leave until I finish my mission,” I repeated. “Mission? What mission? Our only ‘mission’ is to find a way to get things back to normal,” Derek hissed. “I am not leaving!” I yelled. If only he knew that I was trying to save him… “If you won’t come out, then I’ll make you,” “What do you mean? What are you going to do?” I asked with a certain tension in my voice. Silence. “Derek?” I asked once more. More silence. “Fine, just fine,” I yelled. I walked away from the Dream door and ran, desperate to reach the part of the brain required to finish the job, before Derek could live up to his threat. From that point on, the walls had doors every now and then. I ran while looking at the signs on the doors to make sure I didn’t pass it. Personal Info, Joys, Pet Peeves, Disasters, etc. Many doors later, I found my desired destination. The door looked like all the other doors in Derek’s mind: Tall, wooden, and polished. The only difference was how I felt standing in front of it. I felt strong, powerful, and utterly indestructible. I shouldn’t let the power get to me, it could be my demise. I wasn’t sure what to do from that point, I wasn’t sure what to think. It was my first time actually inside someone’s mind. The closest I’ve gotten to this was reading someone’s most secret thoughts. I didn’t know what would happen if I went in. There’s only one way to find out. I focused on the energy radiating from the door and willed myself to harness it. I felt its influence overfilling me and tried to cut into its source. Suddenly, a wave of images overwhelmed my mind. Lots of mythical beasts, their appearance distorted and messed with ‘till they looked far from frightening. Many of them were in the shadows, trying to hide, but from what? I saw many other things like worries and real

life problems, but most of his fears revolved around the demons we faced a few months ago. The whole team helped us destroy their essence, so what is Derek afraid of? They can’t come back...Right? “Okay, so if I go in, Derek will fear me ‘till I get out. Also, I won’t be able to get out, unless I have a wicked amount of power. There are monsters in there, but what can they do? They’re ideas, nothing more but mere thoughts,” I said to myself, trying to calm down. Going in means becoming an idea, too… I was about to twist the door knob when I heard Derek’s voice echo through the hall. “Stop it! Stop what you are doing!” Derek yelled. “You know, Derek, I’m getting tired of your childish tempers! What could be so bad you wouldn’t want your own girlfriend to know?” I shouted in a mix of anger, frustration, and doubt. What is he keeping from me?

The Light in the ShadowsChapter 3

ELISEO CORONA

I passed through the double-doors and took a look around to make sure I was in the right place. From the corner of my eye, I could see memories suspended in the creases of Derek’s mind. I stopped and took a look around Derek’s mind. My gosh, it’s huge, I thought as I saw how much space surrounded me. His mind was set up like a hallway. The floor was covered in a silk red carpet that cascaded into the horizon. The walls of his mind were lined with pictures of his most favored memories. I stepped closer to examine one of them and read the caption.

Heather GenterWith love may she R.I.P

2080-2100

His mother had died at childbirth. I examined the photo above the caption. Heather was a beautiful woman. She had a perfect jaw line and vivid blue eyes. Her hair was a gorgeous shade of dark brown and her skin was a soft shade of tan. She smiled as though she had the most amazing life. Yet I felt pity for her. Her smile looked a bit forced. When I looked into her eyes, I saw the real sadness in them. Why? I looked away from the photo and focused on the real reason I was there. I walked along the corridor, occasionally stopping to see other photos of his childhood. It seemed as though I’d been walking for hours, when I saw a door on the left hand side. I got in closer to inspect. The door had a sign that read:

Dreams

I didn’t know he had dreams, I thought to myself. I stepped away from the door and kept walking, but stopped mid-step and turned around. I couldn’t help but see what was inside. I briskly walked to the door and rested my hand on the knob.

This will go against everything I have fought for, I thought, Should I do it? Do it! A small demonic voice inside of me said. Derek is a human being, too. He deserves his privacy. He has kept too many things from me, this is the only way to be sure of anything. As many times as he has lied to me he has saved my life. Without trust, our relationship is nothing. He is trusting I will let him deal with his own problems. Just take a peak, he’ll never know. You will regret it if you do. Without a second thought, I turned the knob and... “Hey!” I instinctively turned around to see who called. “Who’s there?” I shouted, trying to sound more intimidating than the terrified 16 year old girl whom would only like to cower in the fetal position for the rest of her life. “Melony? Where are you?” Derek’s voice echoed through the hall of his mind. I looked around and tried to find him. When I was certain I couldn’t see him physically, I spoke to no one in particular. “I’m in your mind,” I responded, afraid of what his reaction might be. “Ha ha ha, very funny. Now, where are you? The team has been searching for you non-stop,” Derek said. “No, really. I used my psychic abilities and enhanced it so that I would be able to enter your mind through the look of your eyes,” I sputtered out rapidly. “You what?!? You...But...Do you even… How could you invade my privacy like that?” Derek yelled. “Could you keep it down? When you yell, I feel like I’m experiencing a level 6 earthquake, so cool it!” I yelled back. “I want you out of there, now!” Derek said, a little quieter. “And I will get out...Right when I’m done with what I have to do,” I murmured. “Done with what? Is this about Diana? I have no feelings for her, I swear,” Derek said. A sense of rage passed through me. I didn’t even mention Diana! Where did he get that from? “Only those whom are guilty are eager to prove

June 19, 1966 Well we just landed in New York and by looking at all the buildings I have the feeling I won’t like it! On our way to the new home I was looking at the city I don’t like it. There are so many tall buildings, too many cars, not much grass which made me upset. There are also many shops and work places. Mum told me that the library was close to where we were going to live. Well at least I will like one thing… Father then told us that we wouldn’t be living in a house like we did back then; instead we’ll live in flat! Like as if I would like that! I really wanted a house so that I could at least have some outdoor space… June 19, 1966 Well America clearly is strange! When we were given our room key we had to go to the third floor. Well we went to where the key lead us to, only to find we were in the wrong floor. The lady that lived there informed us that the third floor was the one below us. She also told us her name was Emily and Mum seemed to be getting along with her real fast. She told us there was no need to call her Mrs. Jones. She also told me about her son who was about my age and that I should come over later to meet him some time later. After all that happened we went to unpack our stuff while Father went out for some food. Some hours passed and the unpacking was done when Father came in with a box. I didn’t know what could come in a box that large so when he opened it I was surprised to see a television set, only he told me it was a colour one! That was such a cool thing to have! Apparently he and Mrs. Jones had been talking and got him into buying one. June 20, 1966

Today I went to meet Alfred because Mum wanted me to make at least one friend so I went. He is a really nifty guy if you get to know him. His piercing dark brown eyes and light golden hair are what stood out the most. Not just that he was also athletic but has some chubby… oh enough of that I can’t think about him while I write this? We talked for a while but he was so confused on some words I used while I was confused with the words he used. He told me his birthday was coming up on the fourth July. I think I will get him something like a comic book just to be nice? He is really into that stuff. We have some things in common, like the love for football soccer, I’m trying to use some of the words used here just so I won’t get confused later when I talk to someone else.

July 3, 1966

I have never been so scared in my life before! I was walking back home from the book store because I went to get Alfred a gift for his birthday. He is the only friend I do have anyways… So on the way back one car couldn’t hit the brakes and I didn’t see the car until it was almost too late! That’s when I hear Alfred yell out my nick name Art; I have told him not to call me that because it’s not my name. Anyways he ran towards where I was and quickly pulled me back. Oh dear gosh did he seem so heroic at that moment! Seriously I need to stop writing about him. Well thanks to him pulling me back I made it out alive… only the gift didn’t. When I told my father about it he said that early the next morning we would both go and get him something better than just a comic book.

July 4, 1966

Today I get to go and see Alfred for his birthday. Father and I just came back from the store with a gift I am positive he will like better that the first one. I can’t wait to see him! I just want to run over to his flat and thank him. Well just one more hour until I see him!

I closed the journal waiting for the clock to move its hands and read two-o-clock. Waiting is no fun, but in the mean time I made sure the gift was perfect inside the box, poked the ribbon about twenty times… Finally the time came and I ran to Alfred’s flat with the gift in my hand waiting to give it to him. I knocked on the door hoping he would open.

When he opened the door he saw me and yelled out “Hey Arthur did you come to wish the Hero a happy birth-”

I cut him off by running up to him and giving him a hug. I don’t do hugs but this is the only time I will.

“Happy birthday Hero.” I whispered.

I handed his gift to him and placed a kiss on his check. He was blushing like crazy, and returned a kiss.

Although it was not my birthday I think I got the best thing I could ever wish for, meeting him.

Welcome to AmericaALEJANDRA RODRIGUEZ

April 13, 1966 Mum got me this journal for my birthday today (just like any typical mother would) and told me to write about all my adventures! I reminded her that I just turned 16 so I don’t think I would do that although I secretly would… The gift from Father wasn’t the niftiest one. We are moving to America in June, New York he says. I asked why we had to move because I really don’t want to move away from the nice country side. I like it here in England and honestly I don’t want to go to America. Some of my classmates say it would be nice to live in a big city, especially in America, but I’m not a fan of big cities. Mother told me I will make new friends so there was no need for me to worry! Like that would ever happen I don’t have friends here so I don’t think I will over there. Mom said I should be jazzed to go live somewhere new but honestly I just want to crawl in a hole and never leave it!

“This is your last chance, Mel,” Derek warned. “What are you going to do?” I called out his bluff, arms crossed. With a sudden Bang, a door on the other side of the hall opened and white men came out. They weren’t exactly human, though. They were completely white and held the form of a human, but they had no detail what-so-ever. They looked like walking mannequins… Then they all talked in unison. “We are the Leukocytes. We have detected an unauthorized approach in the central system of this body. You will leave, willingly or forcefully.” The freakiest part of it all was that they all sounded like Derek. Although they talked, I never saw a sign of movement. They didn’t even have mouths! I froze. I was talking to leukocytes. I was talking to white cells. “I-I-I can’t leave, I’ve g-gotta save him,” I stuttered “We are the Leukocytes. Whatever is a threat to him, we will take care of,” The group stated, without emotion. “You see, I’m not a threat. I am here to help Derek,” I pleaded. “We have received orders from the Encephalon to exterminate you if you do not cooperate,” The cells spoke. “So the brain wants me dead?” I asked, not believing in their words. How could Derek do this? “Will you cooperate, Melony Renson?” The cells questioned. “Let me save him. Please,” I begged. “Negatory,” The cells responded. They switched from a human form to oblong shapes. When the transformation was complete, the cells came after me, floating in mid-air. As I turned to run, I saw the Fear door was open. No, I-I-I did not open it, I thought, panic flooding me as I ran. As I started to realize what happened, I sprinted to my next destination: The Control Room. My worst fears were realized. The demons were alive again and they were in Derek’s brain.

PROM DRESSELISE MILLER

Page 13: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

Some say drumline’s a cult; others say we’re a family; while some say that we’re backstabbing, greedy, self-centered arrogant little bitches. While I like to think that the last thought isn’t true, it’s probably the most accurate description of drumline I’ve heard in a long time (if at all). But there are certain individuals in drumline I have grown to love, especially Aaron, Keane, Noah, and a couple freshman (class of 2018). And those people are the reasons why we call ourselves family; that’s why I didn’t commit suicide just days

before the parade. And that’s what I want to do 20 years from now. Be like Aaron, Keane, and Noah. Be that one person who was there when no one else was. I’m not sure how, I’m not sure where. But there’s no doubt in my mind that I’m going to do what I do and help others. And I guess I’ll start today saying: When life hands you a million reasons to quit, laugh at it and say, “Try me.” And never forget it.

Drumline’s FamilyBY EMILY PLACIDO

Between drumline, my first halftime show I will ever perform, depression, 3 parades, Red Gate Sound Project, and people finally reaching out to me, nothing will be more memorable than the first year of my high school career. The one thing that will stick with me is the St. Patrick’s Day parade of 2012. It was one of those days where no matter how hard the sun tried, it could not pop out behind the clouds. The band kids were huddled together like penguins trying to keep their body temperature up. With each breath, you could see a small cloud forming inches away from your mouth. If you remained still for even a minute, the air would start stinging at your cheeks and ears. I sit on the curb, scrolling through my photo library. My drumsticks sit in my lap. The air is finally chilling my bones and echoes through the rest of my body. You should get up and walk around, get some blood flowing. And I do exactly that. I don’t say a whole lot; at parades, I become the shy, quiet person no one expects me to be. I listen to the different conversations being held among the band nerds. But there’s one conversation that grabs my attention. If my memory serves me right, the conversation consisted of Noah, Keane, Robert, and Mac; the whole tenor line except me. “But how do you really know the grass is green, though?” Noah asks. “For all we know, your green could be my purple, Keane’s red, Robert’s black, and Emily’s rainbow.” “Because we grew up with all these things drilled in our head that the grass is green, the sky is blue, your name being your name, etc., once we start questioning that, we start to get uncomfortable. Sure, Mac could say he’s Mac, but for all we know, he could call himself Sharkesha Helga something or other instead of Mac and we wouldn’t know the difference,” I reply. “Greenhorn has a point,” Keane points out. “Society kinda drills things in our heads to make sure we don’t get to the point of questioning everything.” “Excuse me, did you just call me greenhorn?” I sass.

“Maybe,” Keane says, slowly stepping away from me. “You had all year to call me greenhorn and you’re just calling me that?” “You’re still a freshman,” Robert says. “Shut up, Captain llama pants!” I shout. “Shit. Robert, you weren’t supposed to know I call you Captain Llama Pants.” “Wait. If I’m captain llama pants, what does that make everyone else?” Robert asks. I sigh, using all will power to not end up laughing hysterically. “Noah’s the soulless ginger from South Park, Keane’s Swagman, and like I said, Mac is Sharkesha Helga something or other. Got it?” “What does that make you?” Keane asks. “I mean, you’re a lot of things, crazy being included, but I’m curious as to hear what you think you are.” “Oh that’s easy,” I reply. “The marvel fangirl. Duh. C’mon guys.” The sound of the drum major whistle blares through my ears and the tenor line heads toward their drums. One more picture for your bedroom wall. “Mac!” I shriek. “Pose for a picture!” I flip my camera to selfie mode and hold down the photo button. “Drum up, guys!” Todd shouts, leaving me no time to look at the pictures. I, along with the rest of drumline, drum up. Todd’s stick soon hits the snare drum head, counting down the seconds to step off of the 2012 St. Patrick’s Day parade. Fast forward a couple hours. I go through the pictures. I sit at home, alone in my room. My sister, Abbey, is at a friend’s house, Mom downstairs watching American Horror Story. A folder sits in front of me. My eyes read the words the center snare, two of our senior tenor players, and one of our bass drummers wrote. I gingerly hold the frail, thin lined paper between my thumb and index finger. So if you’re ever down, remember your family on drumline. My eyes find their way to the shelf holding my six hats (give or take one or two because it’s hard for me to keep track). The green soon sticks out like a sore thumb, the plaid and superficial stitching standing out against the cream colored wall. It will forever serve as a reminder that I’m needed, and more importantly, I’m wanted.

June 19, 1966 Well we just landed in New York and by looking at all the buildings I have the feeling I won’t like it! On our way to the new home I was looking at the city I don’t like it. There are so many tall buildings, too many cars, not much grass which made me upset. There are also many shops and work places. Mum told me that the library was close to where we were going to live. Well at least I will like one thing… Father then told us that we wouldn’t be living in a house like we did back then; instead we’ll live in flat! Like as if I would like that! I really wanted a house so that I could at least have some outdoor space… June 19, 1966 Well America clearly is strange! When we were given our room key we had to go to the third floor. Well we went to where the key lead us to, only to find we were in the wrong floor. The lady that lived there informed us that the third floor was the one below us. She also told us her name was Emily and Mum seemed to be getting along with her real fast. She told us there was no need to call her Mrs. Jones. She also told me about her son who was about my age and that I should come over later to meet him some time later. After all that happened we went to unpack our stuff while Father went out for some food. Some hours passed and the unpacking was done when Father came in with a box. I didn’t know what could come in a box that large so when he opened it I was surprised to see a television set, only he told me it was a colour one! That was such a cool thing to have! Apparently he and Mrs. Jones had been talking and got him into buying one. June 20, 1966

Today I went to meet Alfred because Mum wanted me to make at least one friend so I went. He is a really nifty guy if you get to know him. His piercing dark brown eyes and light golden hair are what stood out the most. Not just that he was also athletic but has some chubby… oh enough of that I can’t think about him while I write this? We talked for a while but he was so confused on some words I used while I was confused with the words he used. He told me his birthday was coming up on the fourth July. I think I will get him something like a comic book just to be nice? He is really into that stuff. We have some things in common, like the love for football soccer, I’m trying to use some of the words used here just so I won’t get confused later when I talk to someone else.

July 3, 1966

I have never been so scared in my life before! I was walking back home from the book store because I went to get Alfred a gift for his birthday. He is the only friend I do have anyways… So on the way back one car couldn’t hit the brakes and I didn’t see the car until it was almost too late! That’s when I hear Alfred yell out my nick name Art; I have told him not to call me that because it’s not my name. Anyways he ran towards where I was and quickly pulled me back. Oh dear gosh did he seem so heroic at that moment! Seriously I need to stop writing about him. Well thanks to him pulling me back I made it out alive… only the gift didn’t. When I told my father about it he said that early the next morning we would both go and get him something better than just a comic book.

July 4, 1966

Today I get to go and see Alfred for his birthday. Father and I just came back from the store with a gift I am positive he will like better that the first one. I can’t wait to see him! I just want to run over to his flat and thank him. Well just one more hour until I see him!

I closed the journal waiting for the clock to move its hands and read two-o-clock. Waiting is no fun, but in the mean time I made sure the gift was perfect inside the box, poked the ribbon about twenty times… Finally the time came and I ran to Alfred’s flat with the gift in my hand waiting to give it to him. I knocked on the door hoping he would open.

When he opened the door he saw me and yelled out “Hey Arthur did you come to wish the Hero a happy birth-”

I cut him off by running up to him and giving him a hug. I don’t do hugs but this is the only time I will.

“Happy birthday Hero.” I whispered.

I handed his gift to him and placed a kiss on his check. He was blushing like crazy, and returned a kiss.

Although it was not my birthday I think I got the best thing I could ever wish for, meeting him.

Welcome to AmericaALEJANDRA RODRIGUEZ

April 13, 1966 Mum got me this journal for my birthday today (just like any typical mother would) and told me to write about all my adventures! I reminded her that I just turned 16 so I don’t think I would do that although I secretly would… The gift from Father wasn’t the niftiest one. We are moving to America in June, New York he says. I asked why we had to move because I really don’t want to move away from the nice country side. I like it here in England and honestly I don’t want to go to America. Some of my classmates say it would be nice to live in a big city, especially in America, but I’m not a fan of big cities. Mother told me I will make new friends so there was no need for me to worry! Like that would ever happen I don’t have friends here so I don’t think I will over there. Mom said I should be jazzed to go live somewhere new but honestly I just want to crawl in a hole and never leave it!

Page 14: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

A Journey Through a World of Books

ASIYAH ARASTU

To read is to go on a magical journey,

With and against friends and foes.

To read is to break through the boundaries of time.

Where will the road end? Nobody knows!

To read is to go on a magical journey,

With people from start to end.

Who knows if after one journey is over,

A new adventure will being?

To read is to go on a magical journey,

A journey through time, full of change.

But life goes on after great adventures,

Though things may seem different and strange.

To read is to go on a magical journey,

With adventure, joy, and sorrow.

To read is to know other people’s lives,

Yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

Somewhere an adventure waits to begin,

A mystery will soon be unveiled.

There’s a world of books waiting to take us

On a journey, on a magical trail.

BubblesREBECCA RICKERT

Lapis LazuliPAIGE PAULSON

Page 15: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015

FALLUntitled

CASSEY RAMIREZBest Friends

KAYLIN KENDERS

Chain GirlERIKA DELGADO

UntitledJAILENE RAMIREZ

GA

ILBO

RD

EN.IN

FO

Page 16: Teen Writing and Art Showcase Fall 2015