Vol. XV
Lincoln North Star Literary Magazine Copyright © 2019 by Istoria staff All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission. Published by Firespring 1201 Infinity Ct, Lincoln, NE 68512 Cover art “Don’t Trip” by Kendra Limon, Scholastic National Silver Medal Cover page art credits to Joe Horacek, Little Mountain Print Shoppe Editor-in-Chief Zach Wendling Advised by Maggie Deschaine
Editor’s Comments Dear Reader, Last year was an exciting year for Istoria, and this year was no exception as we had the honor of being recognized as a First Class publication through Recognizing Excellence in Art and Literary Magazines by the National Council for Teachers of English, the highest possible distinction awarded via their program. Istoria is also the only Nebraska publication to have won this distinction in the last ten years. Following the success of last year, we decided to continue to incorporate more art throughout the book, but rather than including overt section dividers, we instead only note our thematic divisions in the table of contents, which aim to focus the elements of drama that informed this year’s theme: Masquerade. As you read this year’s edition, we encourage you to reconsider the masks you share with the rest of the world because it is more than okay for everyone to ruffle their feathers and step out from behind their masks. We want to showcase the stories that are kept hidden behind the constraints of society because, as Maya Angelou famously said, “We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike.” No matter who you are, regardless of history or background, everyone deserves to share their stories and live proudly without fear that their masks will fall off or crack. As such, we allowed pseudonyms to be used as bylines this year, but as any masquerade ends, identities are most often revealed at the end of the charade. In this fifteenth edition of Istoria, we, as a staff, want to personally thank our advisor, Maggie Deschaine, for taking over the publication four years ago and helping us to rise to levels we could never have imagined. We are excited to have now produced fifteen magazines and are looking for more writers, more artists, more staff members, and more voices every day. The voices encapsulated within these covers are those that deserve to be shared and those that have the potential to positively impact our world. Everyone has a voice and a story to tell, it is only a matter of sharing those messages. And to you, the reader, we welcome you to the party. Don’t be scared to join in the fun. In the end it’s just a charade, so come one and all to our Masquerade. Editor-in-Chief,
Zach Wendling
Table of inciting 6 A Walk in the Park / Irving Salinas 7 *Colorado Trees / BlueIce 8 Catch Me in the Clouds / Natalie Perez 8 *Calm Before the Storm / Kyra Haba-Dailey 9 Laissez les bons temps rouler / Kayla Enfield 9 Delicious / Francis Dinh
9 Softie / Madi Campbell 10 The Condemned / Taylor Cumblidge 10 *Standing in the Shadows / C.N. 11 *Whisper in the Dark / Jordan Humphrey 11 Masks / Anonymous
rising 12 My Future Depends on Immigration / Alexandra Mora 14 *The Disguise / Rosl Abotebeekh 14 Black / Serenity Kraus 15 a fragile mask / Ninian Tong 16 A City’s Night / Hannah Farr 17 *The Eye of the Beholder / Abagail Terry 17 Minds / Z. M.
18 The House Creaks / George Gedgel 19 Break / Maliyah Jade Thomas 19 *Stoplight / Haley Bourassa 20 Happy Girl / Aya Boko 21 *Pioneer 1309 / Haley Bourassa
turning 22 Army Life / Josef Castro 23 *My Journey / Jordan Joyner 24 *Unmasked / Amber Bolich 24 Masquerade Unlimited / Jessa Alspaugh 25 Semi-Cryptic #2 / Donny Tran 26 melancholy chamber / megamind 28 The Guy Behind the Mask / Sierra E. Allen 28 Whispers / Rylie Eilers 29 *Gator Pride / Yana Siverina
30 The Glass Box / Alison Francisco 30 *Hidden by Beauty / Cayleigh Walker 31 My Voice / Abigail Rosenthal 32 Distracted By...What? / MaKayla Polak 33 Chaos is a Serene Thunderstorm / Charlotte Olberding 33 *Airdrops / Mark Yarmolyuk 34 *Lanterns / Ninian Tong 35 Anxiety / Jordan Humphrey
falling 35 This Mask / DiAngelo 36 Jealousy / Nick DeGarmo 36 Aggression / Kylie Newkirk 37 We Don’t / Haylie Shapland 38 For You / Sydney Lamb 40 When the Phone Rang / Olyvia Hillman 41 *No Trespassing / Anna Bryan 42 *Fire / Maya Anthens 42 Under the Mask / MaKayla Ayotte
43 Roses Under Moonlight / Eugene Demyanovskiy 44 *Green Drop / Jake Seip 45 She Likes Brute Guys / Kenny Huynh 46 Stuck in Your Own Hole / Bertin Renteria 48 The Doll / Abigail Taber 48 *Through the Eyes of a Weeping Doll / Jordan Humphrey 49 Wonderful Wildfire / Paul Malanga
Contents anagorisis 50 Glitch / Jaeda 51 *Connection Lost / Kendra Limon 51 *Country Road to Nowhere / C. N. 52 Requiem for an Android / Morgan Spellman 52 *The Skies of Bastei / Grace Hemmerling 53 She Was Now Gone / Blake Milisits 54 *Child’s Play Gone Wrong / Khiara Lawrence 55 Silent / l. B. 56 Gold to Grey / S. G. 57 Meaning of Life #2 / Suliman Bazzi 58 Death is Not the End / Bergson Ho 59 *Frozen Time / Jordan Humphrey 60 Old Abandoned House / Lyndsey Roth 61 My Lovely Body, You / Josephine Erikson 61 *Mountain / BlueIce 62 Apathy / Paige 62 *We All Have a Dark Side / Joshua Henning 63 Devil Speaks My Name / Desiree Figueroa 64 Unfading / Madi Witcig 64 My Father’s Hands / Lizeth Cruztila Hernandez
65 h o n e y a n d r o s e s / thebiggay 66 Acid / Sam Elliott 66 *Orange Tree / Madison Cady 67 Letter to My Ex / Mohamed Elhaj 68 Brainwashed / Mackenzie Hunzeker 69 *objects are closer than they appear / Natalie Perez 70 The Warmest Season of the Year / Garfield. 70 *Все дороги ведут домой / Mark Yarmolyuk 71 Finding a Meadow / Seth Messersmith 72 Tunnel Adventures / Revolc 72 *troll / megamind 74 Atlantis / Keylin Sura 75 *Magic Behind the Mask / Ella Bonsteel + Jena Kirstine + Reece Towle 76 *Cyber Light / Frances Rodriguez Caraballo 78 *Bridge of Sighs / MaKayla Ayotte 79 Meaning / Connor Eitzmann 80 High School Reality / Aireyonna White 81 Shattered Glass: Betrayals Upon Betrayals / Berbida Kalokola
catharsis 82 A Year of You / Cailey Wills 83 The Tree / Yasmin Worth 83 *Shattered / Jaeda 84 The Final Bow / Zach Wendling
*artwork
85 *Mother Nature / Victor Bedolla 86 *The Way / Mark Yarmolyuk
A Walk in the Park Irving Salinas Sophomore Life is a walk in the park You being your journey Some things stay the same Like the endless waves of lush grass Some things will surprise you Like the unexpected chirp of a bird that ruins the harmony Some walks end fast An emergency occurs and the walk comes to an abrupt stop Some walks are slow and peaceful And when they come to an end, you enjoyed it People will come and go Some stay for a little, others jog right past you You might see some for a long time Until they slowly start crossing the horizon Second by second moving ahead Until they disappear never to be seen again There’s different stages too A beginning middle and end At first you have lots of energy ready to take the next step Then you slow down, admire the beauty and keep going Soon enough, you can see the distant line where you must stop Some days you wish you could walk more Wish you would’ve taken in the beauty Other days you were happy you had the chance Sometimes you see others eagerly leave after they’re done Some choose to end it early And as you come to an end You slowly approach the line Satisfaction and joy fill your face And you think “What a wonderful day” Life is a walk in the park
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Colorado Trees BlueIce
Sophomore
Catch Me in the Clouds Natalie Perez Junior
I want to feel the clouds The airy cushioned clouds Where our loved ones lay Where the sun peeks through all day I want to reach the clouds The odd imperfect yet beautiful clouds Where the angels live Where the birds flow like dolphins at sea Disappearing and have a whole show to give I want to stay in the clouds The peaceful stress free clouds Where no one can reach me Where no fear can taunt and I can just be
Calm Before the Storm Kyrah Haba-Dailey Sophomore
אגם
Mark Yarmolyuk Junior
Laissez les bons temps rouler Kayla Enfield Junior
The wind roars almost overlapping the faint screams of the performers in the distance. As I gaze at the aerial confetti, I realize I am blind to the excitement around me. One step. One breath. It’s like time slowed down in front of me. Yellow parade floats reach out to give me several stringy beads, only to catch attention from more performers. They are on their own journey, a journey to share their story. Remaining stationary in time but bustling afar. Seeing things we cannot fathom to be real. As the showered excitement collects itself in the lively streets, a rush of hysteria bottles inside me. The nation gains its strength from bursting neon colors. This is the new purpose. The Life should be a music, masks, and vivid decorations of purple, gold, and green. The blossoming fleur-de-lis appears on every gargantuan party building for miles on end. Forecast calls for clustered emblemed in love skies of fireworks and colorful flags for two weeks and gala. straight. The thick hot air from fast food carts crawls into my nostrils, while I stumble to get through a crowd of troupers. Face paint begins to moisturize my skin. My outfit begins to frill. It feels as if a new century is starting to begin. We stay out late for a celebration of life. Life should be a gargantuan party emblemed in love and gala. Together we act as one. Together we cheer “Laissez les bons temps rouler!”
Delicious
Francis Dinh Freshman
softie
Madi Campbell
Resting romantic radio music Plays in the background While people are dancing romantically And food is being tossed around Like a jungle full of monkeys. Pow a lady gets hit in the face by a slice of cake.
Freshman
as white and fluffy as a cloud a marshmallow sits resting over the crackling fire it slowly melts and turns brown ready to be feasted on for a nice treat 9
The Condemned Taylor Cumblidge Sophomore
Darkness hangs over this place like a plague A plague that will kill anyone who moves We are constantly stuck in one place We fear that if we speak We will never be able to speak again We show no emotion No love No lust No happiness No sadness No fear We are hollow We are nothing We are worthless That is what we are told everyday Do they know what happened to us? Do they remember our story? Do they not know who we are anymore? Because we are no longer ourselves Taken by the plague Thrown away Forgotten Lost wanderers who will never be found Left, condemned to walk the desert for eternity
Standing in the Shadows C.N.
Sophomore
Whisper in the Dark Jordan Humphrey Senior
Masks Anonymous Sophomore
We each have one, we all use them But what’s under them makes us different. We all flourish in one way or another. All of us look different and have different ways of expressing ourselves Some of us act different around certain people We can act guarded or open Some people get us to take off our mask and some don’t Every day gives us a chance to wear a new mask.
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My Future Depends on Immigration Alexandra Mora Sophomore
I take a long deep breath and see what happens around the world, praying to God that all this will get better. There’s all these news reporters, and not one day do I hear about immigrants’ situations. I begin to grow this fear, and it’s not that kind of fear like when you get scared of small things, but my fear is not having the chance to know if I will be with my parents my whole life. My mother and father were both born in Mexico. My grandparents brought my mother to the United States when she was just three years old. Since then, she has lived her life here in the U.S. My father came to United States when he was 15 years old. They both met each other around the 90s, and from there, they have been together for 20 years. We came along in between those years. They both worked so hard to give us a good life, and for that, I am thankful. February 14, 2017. The day I was going to attend one of my close friend’s funerals. I dearly miss him. His funeral I begin to grow this fear was in the afternoon, so I still had to go to school. The day was a normal day. I saw couples and it’s not that kind of and friends happy as they gave each other gifts to show their love for each other. I, on the other fear like when you get scared of small things... hand, wasn’t that emotionally happy. My fifth period was going by slow. I remember sitting in my classroom and my teacher had received a call from the office. She came towards my desk and she said I had to go to the attendance office. I was confused because usually my mom would tell me if I had a doctor’s appointment or stuff like that, but I just thought she was going to take me home to get ready for the funeral. Walking towards the car, I saw my big sister with my mom and that confused me a little, but I said nothing and got into the car. A big silence spread throughout the whole car. I didn’t want to ask what was going on, but as my mom was driving, she burst into tears, so I asked her. I still remember her exact words, “Your Father was taken by ICE.” I felt like the universe was coming down on me. I burst into tears and at the moment, I couldn’t believe what was going on. I just remember crying without stopping and hoping all this was a lie. We drove up to our house and hoped my dad was inside waiting for us. Knowing that he was not going to be there was hard. As we were stepping inside the house, I took deep breath. All we could think about was how we were going to tell my little brothers. I know this was going to be very hard for them because my dad is our hero. My mom and I went to pick up my bothers. I had my face down, my eyes were full with tears and my face began to look swollen. I opened the door, looked up, and saw my fifth grade teacher. She had noticed that we had been crying and something was going on. I had no words to explain. It was like my tongue had disappeared and my vocals were stuck. A teardrop came running down my cheek. My mom noticed and began to explain the tragedy that had happened, trying her best not to fall back in tears as she stopped to catch her breath. 12
My teacher, without hesitation, gave her a hug and said, “Everything is going to be ok. I will keep you in my prayers.” My mom thanked her, and she appreciated that my teacher had asked. My little brothers noticed her beautiful eyes swollen and red, but with their concerned faces looked way and did not say a word. I tried my best not to cry in front of them. I prayed the whole way back home. “Please GOD help us find the way to tell my brothers my dad has been taken. Don’t let them be hurt, take their pain away. Thank you, God.” The way back home was silent. We sat down on the couch and they stared at us, waiting for us to give them an explanation of why we took them out. With tears in our eyes we said, “Dad been taken by ICE.” They cried and I felt my heart break into millions of pieces. I wanted to take their pain away, but all I saw was my little brother run to his room. I wanted to go after him, but for some reason I couldn’t move. My heart was racing. I turned and looked at my mom and I snapped back to life. I ran to the room and saw my brother in his bed, praying to God, asking him for help and to bring my father back. I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight. “Everything going to be fine, don’t worry, my baby.” The whole day was ruined and none of us ate. We just wanted to sleep and hope all this was a dream. So we haven’t been to school for a week and things haven’t been the same. My dad was the one who paid the house bills and other things. The bills were all piling up and mom didn’t know what to do, so it was either pay all the bills or save what we had to get a lawyer for my dad’s case. Even though we had savings, we struggled. Thanks to my dad’s friend, we got enough money to pay for bills and get a lawyer for my dad. Nighttime was the hardest. We would hear every little noise and it would scare us because we knew our father wasn’t here to protect us. We would all cuddle together so we wouldn’t be afraid and lonely. Even though we had the opportunity to go visit him, we couldn’t because he was three hours away from Lincoln and because we didn’t have any family here to take us. He would call us every night, and even though it was only 15 minutes, being able to hear him say that everything was going to be fine, not to worry, and to keep praying for the best was the best part of our day. It was hard not to be able to give him a goodnight hug or goodnight kiss. A few days passed and my mom had been speaking to the lawyer to get my dad a case. The lawyer told my mom that we had to write letters to the judge about why he should stay. The court date came up and it was all the way in Omaha. My mom and all of us weren’t able to attend in the court, so we waited in the car. My uncle and older sister went in to listen. A few hours passed and they came out. As they were heading to the car, they were both very silent, which made me a little worried, but I knew that everything would be fine. As they opened the door of the car to get in, they both were silent and my mom asked them what was going on. It all went by fast. The only thing I remember is when they said my dad was going to be able to stay here and with us. I couldn’t believe that my dad was finally coming home. I was so happy and excited. I looked up at the sky and thanked God for the help and strength he had given us all.
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Black
Serenity Kraus Freshman
No one speaks the truth No one shows their true colours Everyone buries their emotions But no one can blame them We are taught to never be us To lie and cheat and steal To hide our true selves That no one will like us if we don’t hide behind a mask So we chose to live showing no emotion To live life colourless in a deep Black.
The Disguise
Rosl Abotebeekh Freshman
a fragile mask ninian tong Senior
i hide behind a fragile mask. putting a smile on my face just to get through the day, letting people think that i am okay i put others’ happiness before mine, because it shows me that they are fine i cover my pain with smiles and laughs, to show my life is a blast this task is becoming harder every day, i might have to find a new way my mask will one day be fragile and not hold, so will all my lies be told? will people care to ask? or will they be frightened by my mask? i am still trying to find the girl behind this mask, but will she last?
A City’s Night Hannah Farr Freshman
Nighttime. It is evil. It is dark. It is mysterious. It is unknown to all who enter. The city streets stand silent And a cool breeze rushes by. You walk on into the dark. The only light is from frequently passing cars Or the yellow street lamps high above. Trees rustle And leaves below respond With the crunch of your feet walking atop them. It is quiet. The only sound is the wind whistling through your ears. You look up. The sky is painted black. There are holes punched into the the darkness above Letting the littlest bits of light lead you through this secretive city. A giant hole, You see, Known to all as the moon, Shines ever so brightly And is the gateway to all the paths to follow. It shines on all that surrounds you, And all those who walk by your side. It shines onto the lost, The ones who are too blind to see paths to follow. It shines onto the wanderers of night, The ones who are seeking to find the right way. And it shines onto those who are already there, The ones who are hopping and skipping along their brightly lit roads.
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All paths are illuminated. Some with the fluorescent lights of nearby buildings, Some with the bright light of the moon above, Or others with the simple yellow light of a street lamp In the city.
The Eye of the Beholder
Abagail Terry Sophomore
Minds Z. M.
Sophomore This place, like a city, never sleeps Where dreams are created and destroyed Where fragments of ideas come together A place that’s home to a universe of creations waiting to be created or thought of A realm that’s untouched by the corrupted An ocean of dreams and memories A storm of emotions, that if not careful, is like going through treacherous waters A place to escape reality, the cruel and awful world To hid behind and escape A world that’s never silenced This world where anything is free and able to be itself This easy rest that can be considered a dangerous creature, called my mind. 17
The House Creaks George Gudgel
The floors creak
Senior
The carpeted stairs strain from my feet at 12 am I know I’m not supposed to be awake But my feet are small A 12 year old kid can’t do that much I’m only 100 lbs You jump as you almost hit me with the door That creaks too The yellow in the kitchen shows with age Tiles, stained white Chip away to expose the inside That 70’s Show who? Your teeth are the same color Stained with tea and coffee I always drank out of your blue glass I learned to walk on the balls of my feet Danced between the floor tiles They are stained patterns of red I just needed some water But the floor sounds like the music from my earphones You get scared You didn’t hear me this time At 145 I still sneak with caution When the floor shifts its weight with mine Swaying to the same sounds that play from my phone I dare not wake you up I just got home The green porch light glares at me The air is still sticky with the sweet syrupy smoke that adheres to the roof of your mouth Gets stuck in your throat And leaves traces on the ceiling I never thought I’d have to dance between your eyes like the floorboards But the bad part is: I didn’t notice I’ve been doing it for years. 18
Break
Maliyah Jade Thomas Sophomore
This not about me This about we Where did we end When did we begin Why are we here When we were over there just a minute ago Where did you go Why must I be the one alone NO This is not about me This is not about we It never has been Nor will it be You weren’t in love You weren’t here You don’t know love You don’t know me And you don’t belong here This is not about me And there was never a WE Only you
Stoplight
Haley Bourassa Sophomore
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Happy Girl Aya Boko Junior
In my friend’s chapter book, I am known as the “happy” girl, with no problem whatsoever I am bright, on top of things, smart, kind, funny, and happy Happy! Happy? I despise that word My whole life has revolved around the word “happy” As if it is the sun that declares the light of my life My mind has been molded piece by piece to become “that happy girl” Is that who I am? Is that all that I am? I’ve lost touch with myself being a character in someone else’s chapter book Pink has become blue, yellow has become brown, white has become the darkest sky in the night and I don’t feel like my own anymore I feel like a puppet, in my own show Can I truly only be happy? Yes. Aggressive? Nope. Sad? Not at all, but Happy? Yes. I carry the chains of this one-off storyline like a million puppet strings; it is an everlasting cycle. Those chains I cannot break with my bare hands Those chains that bleed poison into my soul Those chains that break my strongest bonds 20
How can I have a true friend if I don’t know my real self, or if you don’t know the real me? I am not a puppet of happiness Sometimes, I am angry. Sometimes, I cry. Sometimes, I feel like Pinocchio when I choose to smile anyway, for you. You, who has become the author of me. Seeing nothing except that “happy” girl who would be known as happy for the rest of her life… Well, I think this chapter should be mine now. I think there are so many pieces of me you have kept away. I think this time, I will hold my own strings, I will host my own show, and you will see all of me.
Pioneer 1309 Haley Bourassa Sophomore
Army Life
Josef Castro Senior
“The greatest war is the one within,” that’s what I heard when my father came for R&R. He hid his pain behind a smile and hugs. Every call, every letter, gift, skype, facetime. He always held that smile whenever it came to us, but behind that mask was a man with a cracked soul, heart full of worry.
His tears, the tears of a man lost, heart full of regret for the things he said and the things he should have said. The tears that were shed would make anybody sad--all those emotions poured out like a raging river.
The day he came home we were happy, but he was a old record broken. Inside his mind my father fell into a different world. He was in a hole that only he could climb out of. His heart was full of sadness, confusion. He hid those feelings behind a drink. The demons that haunted him seemed to never end his torment.
When all was said and done, the two never separated. The wife put on a vest and worked. The husband healed and worked. The children smiled and laughed once again. The man they called father was no longer confused, more wholesome.
He was a changed man, a different person. He was thrown away by the place he served like nothing. The world he once knew changed, he was once again a civilian. The fighter’s will had dimmed. He was lost in a forest he called his emotions.
The demons that once taunted, hurt, and confused him subsided. The drinking stopped. He instead rode bikes and built things.
Releasing his emotions opened his eyes, made it clear. His lover returned, both hearts full with sadness, yet with forHe always hid it like it was a treasure within him. The worry, anxiety tugged giveness and a new will to push on. They took the children on one last at his heart like a harp. Filled his move, the final time we ever had to mind like a memory that seemed so leave. real an illusion.
Complete.
He’s known as many things: father, soldier, veteran, brother, uncle. He’s the veteran I know as my father. He served, survived, and lived through so much.
He transversed the land called future, trying to help his son not follow his steps. He wanted to scream, cry, let And for that, all I can say is thank you. the world know his pain. His heart was lost within himself confused, aching, needing help. This problem lead to upsets, screaming, at one point separation. 22
My Journey
Jordan Joyner Sophomore
Unmasked
Amber Bolich Sophomore
Masquerade Unlimited: Blackout Poetry from Masque of the Red Death by Edgar Allan Poe Jessa Alspaugh Junior
a thousand masked company light laughter and revel piquancy and phantasm much of the beautiful something of the terrible their ears indulge the heart of life what beats feverishly the masquerade of the night: unlimited the utterly lost figures of the grave conceal the features of the face and produce fantastic appearances 24
Semi-Cryptic #2 Donny Tran Senior
If to be unique, we simply leer at being insane, then why do we have fears of being the same. Breaking free of the hives belonging to our society, evidently we dive or fly to new heights or depths to be special. We task our hands to paint a blank mask to form personality, but personally, it remains similar to everyone else’s. How familiar this concept: uniquity, ubiquity says it’s to have your soul, be the sole one like it. Using our mind, why does our kind not leave it behind, this concept that is such a craze. It seems such a haze to us, navigating a maze of reasons and thoughts, I’d praise the person who can make it through without razing themselves, now we’re hating ourselves for not getting desired results. Unjustified, that being different is feasible, it’s adherent to our ways, in all of our days it’s reasonable to think we must nurture our ideas and self until they mature, it’s simply in our own nature. It’s ingrained in our mind, how fine the gains the uniquity is, through some complications, we find ourselves not alone, but not aware, in our tribulations to achieve uniquity. It’s just our kink to seek freedom from life’s hijinks, but it jinxes us by ruining that same life. Lamentation of our similarities and meaningless observations, condensation of our tears into salt, rock salt for our recollection of our feeble attempts to prove ourselves not just a pebble in Alone we find time a stream. The ebb and flow, no more of being in a crowd, isolation until we’re alone and alone we and time again where find time and time again where you can scream you can scream “I’m “I’m Special” as loud as we want but ultimately Special” as loud as no one hears and no we are not. Knots binding you want. us to our fate, self-hate it’s not safe to be pursuing untame ambitions. Evidently, we may obviously practice individuality, but apparently we do so systematically. With about the same practicality of finding our perfection, perfectly so without question, it’s questionably without our hesitation, hesitantly the connection that this is the pinnacle of paradoxicality! Drilling a hole in our living, willing to create a cavity of depravity as we seek a little filling to others’ feelings to lock away in a vault. Self-actualization, the realization of our faults, an intervention to prevent self-destruction. So toss it aside, don’t confide in these thoughts, just follow your heart, stay on top of your life here and now, and make your happiness the best of your times.
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melancholy chamber megamind Senior
laying on your bed seven feet apart from you watching you read and move around in your rolly chair
i ask for broc (broccoli) you make me pinkie promise not to mistreat him in any way -he’s just a freaking dinosaur stuffed animal -which you would argue that he’s your “son” but i reach over, we locked our pinkies together and touch our thumbs to a point now i have him in my hold a l o n e i brought him under the covers with me, into my fortress of solitude and i waited for you for you to ask “what are you doing?” (like you always do) but you asked the other one… “what are you hiding from?” and you kept on asking i peek my head out of the covers with broc still tight in my arms “nothing” i say then you wanted to know if broc was okay i told you he was fine, you paused then asked if i was i answered immediately with “no” i tucked myself back into my cave with the blanket your great grandmother made you you said “what” in that voice you always use i heard the rolly chair scoot towards me and you stood up i could hear you walking over because your polar bear slippers don’t hide any noise “scoot over” i come out of hiding to find you standing in front of me 26
i move closer to the wall into the c r a c k that is made up of your wall and your bed -because you never move your bed close enough to the wall -so i always end up making the crack bigger and you plopped down beside me my face was red, it looked like i had just got done crying i was so warm under those covers, i thought i was getting sick you wouldn’t let me hide my emotions from you any longer you kept pulling the covers off and my hands were not allowed on my face either so you held one of them the hand you chose is the one attached to the wrist with all my past anger marks each one with a different story all carved into that one arm the other - no marks whatsoever you didn’t let go, -you never do even when you felt uncomfortable even when your arm started to cramp you held on you held on to the crazy ride that i am the crazy ride that i try to hide from you but somehow you always find a way behind my mask you never take it off though but you come in every now and then to make sure i’m doing okay when i need you the most you are always there no matter what you never leave my side no matter how frightening i get you promised me you would stay please don’t break it 27
The Guy Behind the Mask Sierra E. Allen Sophomore
I spotted him behind the crowd, There he stood with such grace. When I look upon him I was dazed, Even though I saw no face.
He looked at me with intense eyes, Not knowing if he grins. The emotions I get from him, Feel like a burning sin.
We danced like fire, I felt the need to go to him, Moving like a wild blaze. His presence like a magnet pulling me in. Our eyes couldn’t hide the desires, Just memorized on a whim, The feelings I had could be called a sin. Connecting so passionately with our gaze. Though he was a mystery, I felt safe going near. The guy behind the mask, Made my heart slowly sear.
Though I can’t see his face, I know we belong together at this place.
Whispers Rylie Eilers Sophomore
You see her sitting across the room And you think everything comes easy You hate her for it How she always seems to be perfect You think she never tries She never has to work for anything But she does And she knows that nobody can be perfect She hears how you whisper about her Those whispers sting more than she’ll let you know Almost as much as the tears she won’t let you see But she has to keep up the façade Make it look like it all comes easy Make it look like nothing bothers her Pretend to be perfect Because if that facade cracks she won’t know what to do No one can see the insecurities She has to keep them hidden Because if she didn’t, you would hate her for them 28
Gator Pride Yana Siverina Sophomore
The Glass Box Alison Francisco Freshman
Yes, I am smiling. But if you just look into my eyes, You’ll find that inside, I am dying. Deep in the center of my mind there lies A glass box, with a black cloth to conceal it. Fragile and invisible, something no one ever sees, While behind the slightly cracked glass, a tiny girl sits. Her mouth is gagged to muffle her screams, Her hands are bound to prevent escape, Though nothing is stopping her tears from escaping down her cheeks. If only someone noticed, she might avoid her lonely fate, But no one ever will, so her future is bleak. This girl is me, My sorrows and my fears, That box houses all that will never be free, Like my pain and all my tears. So I may be dying, But you’ll never know, Because outside I’m smiling, Never letting the broken girl show.
Hidden by Beauty Cayleigh Walker Sophomore
My Voice
Abigail Rosenthal Junior
You say actions speak louder than words But I’m trying to do so much I’m breaking apart And can’t say a thing Because the blame will just get put back on me What do you want me to do? How am I supposed to be here for you? How can I be a perfect thing that I am not? I say I can’t find words But I have so many yet no matter how much I say I feel like I could scream at the top of my lungs And I still wouldn’t be loud enough for you to hear You are in a world different than my own yet you say we are beside each other. I can’t help what you think and that negativity controls you But that doesn’t mean I need to let it control me But the more it happens the more the darkness consumes me and breaks what covered my face And now I have to face you With the broken stitched up girl I am Because my shield has not only been broken but shattered. You broke me. Maybe that’ll make you happy. . .
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Distracted By...What? MaKayla Polak Senior
When they introduced me to you, I wasn’t paying attention They sat me down to tell me about you, and I didn’t listen Once I learned about you, I was nervous I gave it a shot and got to know you You took me by the hand and showed me the world I started to see everything in a whole new way The world was a whole new light with you You show me things that no one usually sees But you were not all fun and games every day You won’t let me have good relationships When I am with you, I can’t talk to people I can’t remember anything You block my memories I grind my teeth because of you You make me tap my fingers on everything When I sleep next to you, I don’t stop moving When I walk with you, I look all over You scare me at school and work I have gotten in trouble too many times because of you While I am driving, I swerve cause you show me so many things I pay more attention to you more than anything Eventually, my friends introduced me to your enemy It blocked me from seeing you You would still visit from time to time But your enemy made you vanish into nothing I missed seeing you, but my friends said I was better without you I did it anyway, I went back to you Now I get distracted by you all the time I was only eight when you came into my life Ten years later, we are still together I have known you for this long, enemies and all At the same age, you came to visit my brother You get him in more trouble than you did with me He is young and doesn’t understand who you are You make him more distracted than you do with me You make us both angry We are socially unacceptable with you You make my friends annoyed There are many ways to make you vanish But your enemies have side effects that bring you back I hope one day we part, but for now... You are my life My best friend, ADHD 32
Chaos is a Serene Thunderstorm Charlotte Olberding Sophomore
Consuming my life Like a shell engulfed by the sea Chaos takes over all parts of me As the thunderstorm screams I wonder to myself Is this what it is like to feel serene I feel numb as I sit here In the bay window of my childhood room Wondering if others feel this way too It’s 11 p.m. and all are asleep We’re alone Me, my bay window, and this thunderstorm She scared me at first when she tapped on my mind Serenity had come to visit me Hello I said with a confused face I was puzzled This moment shouldn’t be serene Chaos is just a thunderstorm I was wrong Because chaos is a serene thunderstorm
Airdrops
Mark Yarmolyuk Junior
Lanterns
Ninian Tong Senior
Anxiety
Jordan Humphrey Senior
I ponder the thought of fire and twine amidst my conscious mind, aware of just how easily it could ignite and set ablaze. Despite this I lay back down my lighter and leave the twine be, knowing it will only wrap around my neck as I sleep. If I should wake, my cause would be that I woke to the shrieking of my own silenced voice calling out for help, for I know the twine has been twisted and pulled shut to close off my oxygen. Slowly suffocating me in the thoughts of 3 a. m. Nobody can help me because I refuse to let them see, how much of a mess has become of me.
This Mask DiAngelo
Senior This mask I wear, it makes me seem angry or annoyed, uncaring, like someone that would shoot up a school. I think that’s why I wear this mask, to push away those people who would otherwise actually talk to me. This mask hides the pain I am feeling, how I torture myself day and night, my emotions I don’t know how to describe. When people talk, they ask, ‘are you mad?’ instead of, ‘why you sad?’ So I don’t have to explain to people that I have depression, how I have tried to end my life once before, why I do the things I do. Because in all honesty, I don’t know how to describe to them the pain of someone you loved dieing along with two of your amazing pets within three months, I cannot explain to them the pain of having to stop your girlfriend from jumping off of a stairwell while she punches, slaps, kicks, pushes, and yells at you saying she hates you. I can’t describe the pain I’ve been in, I can only tell you how I got it, and that everyday I think about it. It bubbles under my skin When people talk, they and I rip the scab off every single day. So when you ask, ‘are you mad?’ see me, I wear this mask to avoid all that, because I instead of, ‘why are don’t want to talk about it for I think about it all the you sad?’ time. This is why I wear this mask. 35
Jealousy
Nick DeGarmo Sophomore
Jealousy is a sienna pond Filled with anger. Cheeks turned red by the steamy flow of a shower Used by everyone. Cold actions cause rivers Flowing forever with violent intent to harm the innocent Jealousy spreads like a wildfire Growing each second Flames grow into rage Never easy to put out. The older we get the bigger the fire grows Sending sparks everywhere, affecting everyone in sight Often caused by the lighter of another person Watching the beautiful turn into disaster.
Aggression
Kylie Newkirk Sophomore
Aggression is a wicked river. You dip one toe in, Into this rushing abyss of nothing. The cool blue water. It seems like time almost... Stops. You secretly want more. So you go in further, Deeper. Wading into the strong waters, The current whispering into your ear. The temptation whisks you away. There is nothing to do but fall. Regret snatches you up Into the deep darkness of forever. Nobody to help, To listen. Aggression will pull you, Into a wicked river, For all eternity... 36
We Don’t
Haylie Shapland Junior
When we feel this way We don’t want to listen to anyone We don’t want to do anything We don’t want to be seen We don’t want to be told what to do We think of things we can do Things we want to do Things that we shouldn’t do Things we would go somewhere for Things that will hurt others When we are like this we don’t know What we are going to end up as or How long it’s going to last We never know when it’s Going to come at all It comes randomly during the day When you are having a nice time Then randomly you have to leave And not turn around When we are like this we can’t stop it We can’t control it We have to wait it out We have to act our life out Just to show people we are not hurt
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For You
Sydney Lamb Senior
On that cold, rainy Sunday when you told me you “think it would be best to end this” I didn’t know how to feel. My whole body started shaking and my fingertips went numb. I couldn’t feel the physicalities of my body any longer. Only the intense burning in my chest from all the anxiety. I didn’t know what to say. When I asked you “Why?” You told me it was because of my sexuality. Because of a simple word. Ace. Asexual; defined by the great merriam webster as a person who has no sexual feelings or desires All this, Because my lack of sexual attraction that I made damn sure you knew of before we became this thing Became usThat you promised would never hurt me, That you promised would never bother you, That you promised would never be a problem, Had suddenly morphed into something more. A big problem. The kind of problem where no matter what path you choose, None will lead you to the place you were before. Because that reality is gone. And you can’t ever go back.
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Life isn’t some computer game, There’s no undo button,
I can’t just delete my save, So when you told me things were done, I knew it would stay that way. I had lost too much over things I can’t change But I couldn’t accept that. So when you told me we were done because of who I was I promised I’d change And make things okay again So I drowned my pain My sorrow My disappointment My broken trust My broken heart My broken soul In something bigger than the both of us. Begging to just make the burning Rippling through my chest stop. And it did And here you are And here I am Tearing myself apart Again. For you, Always For you. Rippling through my chest stop. And it did And here you are And here I am Tearing myself apart Again. For you, Always For you. 39
When the Phone Rang Olyvia Hillman Senior
It was November 13, 2016. The phone rang. My mother answered. Next thing I knew I heard a loud gasp and saw her mouth hit the ground. She paused and stood there in complete silence. Finally the phone call ended and she looked at as in such disbelief. Her mouth opened to tell us what had happened, but nothing came out. She took a deep breath and tried it again. With hesitation she said, ¨Your cousin Taylor was just hit by a car leaving Mcdonalds and is dead.¨ For several minutes after there was complete silence; nobody knew what to do or what to say. Then panic struck us all like a lightning bolt. Not knowing what was next, where she was or who to talk to. Without thinking, we drove to my Grandma and Grandpa’s, which evidently was everybody’s first response because everyone was there. To this day two years later, people still remember the story of how she died: An eighth grade girl with her friends crossing the street on West O hit by a sixteen year old driver. The day of her visitation and funeral people from all over who didn’t even know her showed up.
People from all over who didn’t even know her showed up. My cousin and I weren’t very close, but when we
were together we had a great time. She was in a family full of all boys, so when my sister and I were around, she clung to us. She would come stay with us for weeks at a time just to get away and have some girl time. Standing there at her funeral her dad gave me a hug, grabbed my arm and said, “Just a couple weeks ago the question was asked who do you look up to, and Taylor said you.” At that very moment my heart broke.
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No Trespassing Anna Bryan Junior
Fire
Maya Anthens Sophomore
Under the Mask MaKayla Ayotte
Junior
Day After Day. Year After Year. We both wore masks covering our true feelings. Wooshhh! Our masks both fell off. Underneath was love. A different type of love than before. A type of love built on a strong bond. The type of love we both had been looking for, right in front of us the whole time under our masks.
Roses Under Moonlight Eugene Demyanovskiy Freshman
L ips red like roses Kissing under the moonlight As my tender lips Came apart from her soft luscious lips My heart beating from excitement As I looked up I saw joy bouncing around in her eyes My heart racing with happiness Smelling the lovely scent of roses My cheeks turned red Because it was my first kiss
Green Drop Jake Seip Sophomore
She Likes Brute Guys Kenny Huynh Senior
I am a mess, I want to get better She stared into my eyes Didn’t know I could until I met her I am trapped inside my sweater The stem of love inside me dies I am a mess, I want to get better You caught my eyes, attention getter All she wrote was lies Didn’t know I could until I met her You rip my heart into pieces like a shredder The tears on my cheek dried I am a mess, I want to get better You like me but you love Lester Her love for me she denies Didn’t know I could until I met her I begin to write this final love letter She likes brute guys I am a mess, I want to get better Didn’t know I could until I met her
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Stuck in Your Own Hole Bertin Renteria Senior
You’ve dug yourself into a hole and now there’s no way back up.
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You dig yourself further, hoping to strike gold. You dig too far and now there’s nothing but darkness. Anywhere you look feels like a tunnel. A tunnel where there’s no light and it’s nothing but a guessing game. Where do you go from here? You don’t go anywhere. Darkness, no sound, no one here to help you. Soon enough you become scared of the dark, scared of the unknown. You want help. You’re walking in circles. No, running. You run faster hoping to become so dizzy that you’ll pass out and wake up from this horrible dream. You run faster, tripping over your own feet. You’ve landed face first in the puddle made of your own tears. You asked for darkness but now you’re scared of it. There’s no one to help you. You cry for help but the only response is an echo. But the echo isn’t the same. It’s not the same cry for help. It’s a cry to end this horrible dream. “Please just end me” the echo whispers back into your dry, cold ears. You’ve lost hope in this dark tunnel. This is nothing but a dark tunnel. You close your eyes but nothing is different. Nothing is changing. There is no difference between the unknown and the safety of your own eyelids. Your safety is exposed. Soon enough you’re hallucinating. There is no difference You hallucinate into another universe. A land of hopes and dreams. between the unknown You’re smiling, crookedly. and the safety of your You’re lost. own eyelids. Your mind is nowhere to be found. How did you end up here? What were you running from? Were you running from a life that was capable of happiness and smiles. A life capable of dreams. You’ll never experience the smell of a friend’s house.
You won’t experience the pain of another person after they’ve shared their life story. You won’t be able to share your own story because there is no story to tell. You won’t be able to tell people you’ve gone through hell and back only to make your loved ones happy. You won’t be able to tell people about the crazy life you’ve lived. You can’t tell people “I survived this stupid game of life.” You can’t say “I love you” or “I’m sorry.” You can’t hug your parents when you graduate. You can’t move into a new house. You can’t live the life others told you to live because they never got the chance to. You’ve dug yourself into a hole and now there’s no way back up. You decided to dig deeper and deeper. You keep digging your own grave. Your arms become weak. Your tear ducts are dry. There’s anger on your face, but no one can see it. You’re blinded with hate. You’ve hit rock bottom. You think to yourself “there’s no way back up.” You dig yourself further so that you’ll be forgotten. You can’t stop digging, there’s no other choice. There’s nowhere else to go. The hole is collapsing and there’s no one there to help you. You’ve dug your own grave. Everything is dark and you’re afraid. There’s no hope left. You’ve dug yourself into a hole and there’s no way back up.
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The Doll
Abigail Taber Sophomore
A blackened heart locked away in a glass box, Replaced by something plastic and superficial, Is all that is left of her She has been manipulated by the puppeteer, Forced to become one with her mask Turmoil leaks from a seemingly unending void, Determined to shatter the false skin The mask is cracked and glued back together; That fragmented clarity which now transforms into madness Is poisoned and left to rot by her harrowing façade Can one not hear her silent screams of agony, Nor her dripping tears in the night? Is there none who will cease her imprisonment And wipe her tears away? None see her thinly veiled scars or artfully concealed cracks Perhaps her sacrifice is for naught And the puppeteer will find another doll Perhaps her pain is meaningless, Only meant to temporarily appease him Perhaps she’ll never know The crimson blood she spilled
Through the Eyes a tears Weeping Andof silent of ice she Doll cried, Jordan Humphrey Her torn and jagged insides, Senior
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Her poisoned heart locked away, All lay concealed under her paper smile
Wonderful Wildfire Paul Malanga Junior
Being right consumes you
But having friends makes you better
Let’s start an argument
But you hate the aftermath
Prove yourself to be right Try to make yourself sound smart Don’t walk that way, you look funny
But what does it cost to have it Can’t someone just see through your lies
Stay home and relax, you deserve it Stop moving your hair around Wear different clothes, people look at you Be rude to them, they annoy you Fog your mind with fake thoughts Start a fire to that paper I’m now angry I won’t stop clogging your brain I won’t go away You need this disguise
But I can’t help it What will I miss today But it's in my way Will I be happy But they’ve never done anything wrong Stop, I can’t see How long until someone notices But nothing has happened But you can work with me I can’t live without you You lead me the right way
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Glitch Jaeda Junior
I feel the tears Turned on by a switch In the back of my brain Where you conjured the glitch Leaving me with the memories Feeling grounded is required But I can’t get on the floor I haven’t seen my therapist In over two years It wasn’t my choice I still have her camera, The beautiful thing I use To stop time and cling To perfect moments I see with my eyes That are filling with tears Turned on by a switch In the back of my brain Where you conjured the glitch And ruined my coping mechanisms Took them away Forcing them when all I wanted was out Proceeded to yell Until I needed them again and again and again and again I’m still in class I feel the tears Turned on by a switch In the back of my brain I know I’m a work in progress I know thinking about What other people think Of your thinking is Overthinking by a long shot I know that I need help 50
So does everyone else I feel the tears Turned on by a switch I need to control my thoughts So I create an attic in my mind With a big heavy door And a keep out sign Filled with boxes of memories I feel the tears And I gather too many Thoughts that I don’t own That make me claustrophobic In my own mind My attic is caving I need to organize The attic of boxes Consuming my brain Keeping me from happy Locks and chains aren’t enough I need to get rid of them I feel The tears Turned off by a switch In the back of my brain Where I control the glitch Twisting it in the palms of my hands Crumbling it into fine Fine dust The window is wide open Tossing the boxes out Letting go of the memories.
Connection Lost Kendra Limon Sophomore
Country Road to Nowhere C. N.
Sophomore
Requiem for an Android Morgan Spellman Senior
Artificial emotion, human implosion, The birth of new flesh and decay of corrosion Synthetic flesh tears out from under false hands, A slave to the mainframe’s unending commands. The flowers within you blossom and flourish, Mine wither and falter until they soon perish. These wires have since been lost to the frame, The boiling, bristling, begotten shame, Those speakers that echo to porcelain skies, From beneath the illusion come dry strangled cries. Data is mangled and twisted with time, Technology’s birth was its own worst crime, Each thought that was lost to the weight of the world, From underneath swollen palms was unfurled. The flowers within you blossom and flourish, Mine wither and falter until they soon perish. A curse to all those who dare to repeat it, The magnetic restraint of a soul once beaten, The fabric is shredded and torn at the seams, Synthetic salvation destroys its own dreams.
The Skies of Bastei Grace Hemmerling Sophomore
She Was Now Gone Blake Milisits Sophomore
She fell in love, he was so kind and sincere It didn’t last long before that disappeared without a trace He began to be angry and jealous She couldn’t do anything without his permission He was to be her first priority And if he wasn’t she was called names that no one should The words that came from his mouth shouldn’t have been said Every time he said something to her she believed it It was her fault It was her fault It was her fault It was always her fault And she became best friends with the word sorry rather than the girl she used to have sleepovers with and share her problems with The man who once gave her compliments and built her self esteem Now crushed it to dust and turned on a fan to blow it away She lost connection to herself The girl she once knew She was now just a Smiling, bubbly, smart, kind, loving puppet on strings. She was now just a puppet on strings Her emotion had left with her self esteem The man she fell in love with was gone In return a cage was put around her and he threw away the key The man that once was, was gone and so was she.
Child’s Play Gone Wrong
Nebraska Young Artist Award Khiara Lawrence Junior
Silent l.B.
Sophomore Numb, And all alone. Fighting a silent battle, Behind a mask, With no traces of scars left behind.
Afraid that they will hear her, And petrified that they will see her ugly, true self.
Behind the mask, She silently pleads with her eyesBegging for someone to notice. But they ignore her. Do they walk away from her? Or her away from them?
Trapped underneathStruggling, Reaching their hand out, And waiting for someone To help them out of this place.
She’s scared, Scared that ifNo, WHEN she takes The mask off, They will leave. Because she’s ugly. A withering flower, Full of sorrow and desireSo quiet, So silent that even when she screams for help, No one hears. Frightened. Fighting a battle that no one knows about. A silent battle, Behind a mask. She’s scared. So she covers her mouth when she speaks, She puts on a mask around others,
FACADE
They might wait a hundred years, Before help comes. BecauseWho would think That in that beautiful place Someone would be Suffocating? Wasted away In what is seemingly a paradise. Lively, Green vines and flourishing Blooming flowers surround them. They reach their hand out And touch a flower, But then collapse. A fallen victim To a beautiful façade.
Gold to Grey S.G.
Junior
My eyes close and the walls, that are freshly painted grey, change to gold. An old gold considered a stain to the iconoclast who took a paintbrush to the array of pineapple gold, bright colored surroundings. My trance returns that house of greys and blacks to its golden glory days. The stump in the front yard grows tall once again, bearing the flowers which once bloomed, but never bore any fruit. Lilies and Lilacs once again blossom from the green grass and I pretend to sit on the old bench that lie on the top step before the door into my old, gold home. My eyes open and the walls are no longer shining toward me but swallowing the light entering the windows. I move from room to room before reaching the one I had called my own, the room she had painted, one wall blue while the others purple, my favorite colors. Musical posters around my colorful walls, and a window to the back that let light shine in. Looking there now the walls that were once mine peel down, having been replaced by an odd yellow, and I can recall how I despised it. No musical posters hang now, only inspirational posters with men and quotes I do not recognize on them. Where my bed once sat now sits a stationary bike, where my dresser once lie sits a black and brown desk with dark containers on top. Before I had been pushed so far away, Anything or anyone the changes had began with the masking of the walls which had once shone bright in the sunlight. who made me feel any sense of belonging had I recall the plea I had made to keep my walls, to keep my posters, to keep my space. But every week been stripped from the I would return to find more of my home taken walls and the floors from me. Yet the iconoclast reminds us, this is our until all that remained home and we belong here, but anything or anyone who made me feel any sense of belonging had been was black and grey. stripped from the walls and the floors until all that remained was black and grey. It was six months before I would return to that room. My room. When I was separated I was told that I would be missed and others were told that I had abandoned them unexpectedly and was expected to return and beg for forgiveness. But I couldn’t help but notice my things were replaced and removed soon after the incident had occurred. And I knew that I could never apologize because no matter the times I cried, I was never sorry for doing so. I wasn’t sorry for something I could or couldn’t have done; I was sad because any amount of begging or sobbing would never change the iconoclast who stole away the home I had once had.
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Meaning of Life #2 Suliman Bazzi Senior
Have you ever felt like you had everything Felt like you owned the world People used to listen to every word you said But then one day You look around You see no one to ask No one to help They all just left And I am sitting alone Tried calling them Tried talking to them But they just ignored Wondering what Have I done What could’ve I done To get this response I never imagined that we will reach this point To a point where I can’t even text or call to ask for some help For some advice It is okay I got the point It always seems to amaze me how quickly things change I understand that there is a point in life When people just leave you and go The truth now unfolds The story is now being told What would’ve happened if you just stayed Damn. I really feel like I am alone
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Death is Not the End Bergson Ho Senior
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I felt lost and generally hurt. Why did you leave? Where did you go? Why didn’t I say goodbye? Was it me? All of these questions were bouncing around my head when the phone rang. The ringing is constantly in my mind even to this day. I wouldn’t believe it and I didn’t want to believe it. But it’s true. You left me; I’m at a dead end, and there is no turning back. I didn’t feel right about that night at home. I remember the day when I was happy. Moods can change from time to time and events can lead to a happy or bad ending. I haven’t been able to figure out life and thought everything was going to have a happy ending. I can still remember the horrific night that I had. Neverending crying, tears that created waterfalls showed that I was still a baby at age ten. I didn’t feel like anything. I felt powerless without you, which showed how weak I am and gave me no opportunity to do anything I wanted. I quit sports and ran away from my home from time to time. I wasn’t showing any progress of happiness and I just wanted the nightmare to end. I woke up with a headache, one that punched me right out of bed. Constant pains, I remember, pulsed through my head. But I didn’t ask for I was a troublesome child. Maybe you shouldn’t this, I didn’t want this. have left, but you did and never gave me a choice to I wanted you back, I live on my own. I was always taken care of, never wanted to help my family. I was praised as a child. needed you back. I felt like I was a king, controlling my peasants to do everything that I asked. But I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t want this. I wanted you back, I needed you back. Why did I have to fight back? It shows how weak I am and how dumb I can be. I can’t really do anything right. At the age of ten, it showed that I wasn’t going back to who I was. It showed that I could never be the same. Now I’m in highschool, still wondering when you can come back and give me a hug. I’m almost off to college, I can picture you being there when I walk up to graduate. You left too soon, when I needed you the most. I still need you, but you gave me something I didn’t want. Depression wasn’t always the best gift. I made it work throughout my middle school life, but I was confused by what depression was. Thought maybe it was just sadness, but it was worse than I thought. Depression isn’t the best trait to get a girlfriend. It This was the worst gift ruined relationships for me; I was the problem. This ever, a gift I couldn’t was the worst gift ever, a gift I couldn’t throw away throw away or burn or or burn or sell. It stuck with me until the end. sell. I’m still wondering what it would be like if you were still here. The last time I can remember was the night of a family dinner and you made a great meal for all of us, but then
you left and now I can’t really taste a refreshing grandma’s dinner. My grandma gave me joy and showed me how to be me. She’s gone now and I am a different person. I try to go back to normal but it’s gone now. I hate this person, but I can manage it. I still know the person I am supposed to be. She didn’t have to go, I tried to make her stay. My ten year old self couldn’t convince a grown woman to stay when she wanted to leave to visit some family. The door was a sign and I missed it. It’s okay now, but I haven’t seen your grave yet and I will be bawling my eyes out like a baby who got their toy taken away when I do. I still miss you and wish you were here with me. You had plenty of fighting years grandma, you did. Now is probably the first time I’ve talked about my feelings and it hurts and makes me feel more open in an unusual way. I will keep moving forward with my head up and try to do things that will make me happy. It’s really hard to say goodbye, but this is it. My final goodbyes to you. Goodbye grandma, you showed me how to live and made me remember who I am. The gift you gave me was pretty bad, but it’s okay because I can fight through it and have friends to cheer me up. I also went back to sports, which helps me now more than ever. You will always be in my heart and you will always continue to be with me, no matter life or death. Love you, Grandma.
Frozen Time
Jordan Humphrey Senior
Old Abandoned House Lyndsey Roth Sophomore
Me? Well I have no meaning left Every time the wind howls my floors moan as if they want to leave me I’m all alone, no one even gives a thought about calling me “home” I’m barely a shelter for stray wild animals I remember a time when a family actually loved and cared about me A fresh coat of paint, new furniture, I loved getting makeovers Now I’m just a spot where kids come and throw rocks at me to see who can knock me down first Me? Well I have no meaning left I have nothing left inside of me I’m an empty soul remembering the days when kids and their parents would come home and lay around all day I felt loved Now I’m just a place where families of birds nest That’s who I am Me? Well I have no meaning left They said they would come back, but I knew it was a lie My outsides are as broken as my insides are too Everytime I hear a car go by I think maybe they’ve come back, but it’s all a dream So many memories So many things I miss So many people have walked through my arms They come and go like day and night People are here to have a laugh and a good time Maybe for a piece of cake, or maybe just to say, “congrats” Now I’m barely four walls and a roof Me? I have no meaning left I can now see the reason why they left I’m bruised and broken in all parts of my body Nothing new to see No new memories to be made... 60
My Lovely Body, You Josephine Erickson Sophomore
Running from my problems like in a marathon on a loop But you are the problem that sticks I’ve had you my whole life and you haven’t left No matter what I do What I change You moved in and stayed put Thanks for setting me up for many years of bullying and self hate But over time I guess I don’t mind having you around You helped me find self love and confidence Be a better me Find my own unique style And get control of my life back Thanks to you my wonderful tummy Thick thighs Flabby arms Wherever you may be You taught me lessons I never knew I would need to learn But in the end I guess it’s okay if you stick around a little longer
Mountain BlueIce
Sophomore
Apathy Paige
Sophomore Apathy is a dark void hiding behind a green mask always concealing the Truth The outside is inviting caring emotional But the inside is frigid Cold Uncaring It hides behind the facade of caring so no one will know none of it matters At least not to me
We All Have a Dark Side Joshua Henning Sophomore 62
Devil Speaks My Name Desiree Figueroa Junior
I am awake when my dreams haunt me, Yet asleep when my fears attack me. He knows what I’m afraid of And yet continues to push me until I’m off the edge of a cliff. My darkest days are the hardest, Because he’ll never stop coming after What he desires most. I am scared of the dark. And that is what he feeds on most. He knows my weakness And tries to pull me down. I can’t breathe as I pant for air, Suffocating me until I’m in a dark place. He’ll shut my eyes so that I can’t see the light. He knows my name, When I was born, and even before. He haunts my dreams as I awake from my nightmares. He smiles as he knows I’m close to my end, Embraces me close in his awaiting arms of death. Carrying me back in within his grasp As he lays me down to rest. The devil speaks my name. He’s heard it many times before. He awaits in the shadows, silently whispering my name, To draw me back into despair.
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Unfading
Madi Witcig Sophomore
A peaceful aah You exhale a sigh of admiration Mesmerization takes over your body You are held captive as it fills you top to bottom You can’t peel your eyes a w a y The clock continues to tick Soak up all that you are able Like a sponge dropped into a deep pool of applause Your heart is light But full You catch your mind slowly drifting further a w Frozen in the chaos around you Wonder is an amaranth butterfly ` It is beauty peace captivity love It is unfading But behind a mask you conceal yourself Not allowing others to see the fondness radiating from inside It is Another day your admiration hides
a
y
My Father’s Hands
Lizeth Cruztitla Hernandez Senior
My father’s hands are not soft to the touch. His hands have calluses and wrinkles on them. They are rough and worn out. He has scars on the back of his hands from past injuries at work.
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hands became mischievous. My father’s hands would always mess around, but as soon as the seasons started to change so did the way he acted. Winter was when his hands itched for the need to do something fun. His hands would make enormous Despite all of the bad qualities that his “snowballs” and chuck them at us. He would hands could possibly have, it did not use all the force that he had to push us down stop him from taking my mom’s hand in to the snow-covered ground. He would use marriage. His hands may be rough but they his hand to help us up just to throw us back were always gentle when carrying his three into the snow. When he was done doing babies. His hands were what took care of what he thought was funny, his hands would us when my mom was at work. They were a later go and help us make a snowman. distraction whenever we started to miss her. Whatever season it was he would always find something fun to do. Whenever we got together as a family, his
honeyandroses thebiggay Junior
as she pressed her lips against mine my lips and tongue and teeth are coated in honey and roses giving me her bitter sweetness and love without me having to ask and without her hesitating trails of honey lingered over my entire body while she left her mark over every inch of me. and it is at this moment that i realize i am desperately and chaotically in love with this woman madly falling into her pools of honey eyes and rose colored lips i realize i am stuck here and i am not struggling to get free i have no intent in leaving i will stay put and plant my own sunflowers in her rose gardens as we are two individuals binding souls for the night. The same hands that were the source of fun were also the source of discipline. Not to the extreme but more of a finger wag or the hand gesture that would indicate the very long lecture we were about to get. His hands were what made me and my siblings who we are today.
When they found what they thought was a perfect place, my dad gave the handshake that would make my parents owners of the house. Moving to a new place was what got my dad’s hands moving. All of the new features he wanted to add to our new home. He went from painting the inside of our new home to painting the entire house. He later cooled down on the improvements of the house and started gardening, but he is still making improvements to this day.
His hands are always inventive and hardworking. They always fixed our old falling apart home, making adjustments here and there. Whether it was for the better of our old home or the installment of a crazy dan- I am grateful those hands never stop. My gerous baby swing, my dad would always be father’s hands are the reason I have so many doing something. great memories. He held my hand when I was a little kid, but slowly he started to let Although his hands were always looking for go. He may not hold my hand as much as he something to do, they became tired of fixing did when I was little, but I know that I can our old house, so they started searching for count on him to hold my hand when I need a new house, a place we could call home. him most.
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Acid
Sam Elliott Junior
When I look at you I see the things I changed about myself It’s as if I swallowed acid And changed the very composition That made up my essence Just for some attention Now the only option I have Is to keep swallowing more Hoping I can replicate my origins Maybe if I would have read the label I would have known this was no good But it sure did feel good And it tasted good Until the nausea kicked in And that’s when I saw the real you The replication of you in myself And I knew I knew That I didn’t love you I loved the idea of what we could have been
Orange Tree Madison Cady Sophomore
Letter To My Ex Mohamed Elhaj Senior
I just need a minute to vent My glass half full Got some stuff in my chest That thing you did was just pure disrespect I was going to leave you alone but nah Girl screw that because Why you do me like that? Like what the hell I do to you to deserve this from you? I been loyal I been true since the day we started I was happy now all the sudden I’m broken hearted But I think I gave away way too much and I kept giving away too much Way way too much love I didn’t wait for you to love me back But that’s my fault and now I got to deal with all that I took all the backlash From all these wack dudes that broke your heart in the past It’s like I never had a chance like I never had a chance With your heart Breaking up was the hardest part
Brainwashed
Makenzie Hunzeker
Senior Crouched down in a dark vented room, the cold dry breeze brushes across my arms. My arm hairs start to raise up as I get goosebumps from being in fear. “It is not the bruises that hurt. It is the wounds of the heart and the scars on the mind,” Aisha Miza said. My body has a mini stroke as my mind fills with overwhelming thoughts. My body tenses tighter, tighter, tighter, my throat wants to close on me, as I try not to burst out crying. The yelling becomes ear-splitting as the clock is ticking, slowly passing time. The push gets stronger. GASP HUHHH GASP HUHH. My heart and mind are in a tug-o-war fight. I lost a light in me. All it took was once, I’ll never be the same. One in four women and one in seven men ages 18 and older in the United States have been the victim of severe physical violence by an intimate partner in their lifetime, unfortunately I am one of those women. It all started in July of 2014 at my best friend’s dad’s 50th birthday party. At the party I met a guy. He asked for my number, plus gave me a compliment. I was startled by this experience in my life because I had never dated a guy before him. I never thought he would ever text me the next day because he was almost three years older than me. Surprisingly, the next day I got a text from him in the afternoon. From that day on we texted every single minute of every day. On the weekends we would stay up for 24 hours just to talk on the phone. He was the guy I had been waiting for my whole life, at least I thought. The first few months of our relationship was like a fairytale. It was like I was living in a Cinderella story. He bought me gifts, surprised me at different times, and we did everything together. At six I learned everything months, he bought me a promise ring. Of course I said “absolutely.” Every one of my friends was was not a fairy tale in jealous of our relationship, but that turned in to a this relationship. mistake. I learned everything was not a fairytale in this relationship. This is where the regret starts to happen. Red flags start to hit me in the face. It all started with controlling me. He took away my social life. I could not hang out with my friends otherwise I would get a piece of his mouth, plus his fist. He accused me for things that I did not do. BAM PUNCH. I got a beating to my ribs for something I did not do. For every wound there is a scar, and with every scar there is a story. 68
He was always smart about when he would abuse me. He beat me in places no one could see. He would yell at me when no one was around. He was that sneaky snake that no one wanted to be around. There are a million stories I could share, but it would take a million years to share everything that I have been through. In 2017, I finally got the guts to leave him. My arm hairs stuck up in fear of him trying to light me on fire because I made the choice to leave him to better myself. I strained my eyes shut as I trembled in fear of being able to see the light of tomorrow. My heart loved him, but my mind was exhausted. It took every inch of my strength to leave him. It was days of balling my eyes out and deciding what was best for me. It sucks when the person you love makes you feel so unwanted. I am still trying to gain the light back that he stole from me. I know from this day on, I will never be the same person I use to be, but I know that this experience made me stronger.
objects are closer than they appear
Natalie Perez
Junior
The Warmest Season of the Year Garfield.
Sophomore If the butterflies come along with me, In an everlasting dream we will be. Singing our song, without changing our tune, Living merrily in the month of June. Gazing downward at the water so blue, All of my affections, I’ll give them to you. We can wander through the forest as one, All our memories shared under the sun. Counting as we walk through a seaside town, Below a tree we will be lying down. You and me, always doing as we wish, Swimming in the water with all the fish. Spending days with you in the summertime, All of our adventures have been sublime.
Все дороги ведут домой
Mark Yarmolyuk Junior
Finding a Meadow Seth Messersmith Sophomore
Life is an Impassable Bog The Bitter Fen in which you venture Day by Day, Minute by Minute Walking through the Sullen mud And for what? Life is an Impenetrable Moor You see an open Meadow across the Forbidden Rapids But you are stuck Askew And you can’t help but fall Then you see a Rose A single Rose And you crack a smile So you reach down And prick your finger Reminding you even Roses have Thorns And yet, even Bogs have Roses And suddenly, The Rapids are Calm And the Meadow isn’t so far away After all
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Tunnel Adventures Revolc Senior
I’m stuck in a tunnel that never ends. It’s dark with a little bit of light. I see green like if there was some moss growing. At the end its pure green. As if everything on the other side is all bright green. I finally reach the end of this lonely and long tunnel. I get to somewhere with a better vibe in a sense. It’s all scattered blue. Nothing as I intended. I can’t see much just the blue. It’s everywhere with white and black in small spots. I feel lost but I don’t feel scared. I can’t make out anything else
just the fact, I’m not alone. No figures to make out to prove I’m not alone but I have my feeling. I found a light that led me to a new adventure. Not all adventures are good. Some can be absolutely terrifying. But others can make you smile anytime you think about it. You may get lost sometimes in your life. But something is headed your way. When I saw my new adventure, I knew I was changing for the better and I loved it.
I saw I was going to have new and hard challenges. But it was worth it to be better at something. New lights, new experiences. Everything is going to teach you something new. Maybe small, maybe something big. As long as you get something out of it, making sure that the vibes are always peaceful. Like when you’re with the person that always makes you smile. They are by your side, Always show that they care And you can always feel safe. Follow the lights that shine bright Even if its dim and dark at first.
It could be the best thing you’ve ever done. Don’t hide in darkness; Go see what you want to see. Don’t stay in your comfort zone. Travel the world. Be kind to people. Talk to new people. Listen and learn about new cultures. Show that everything has a place and meaning, So adventure it.
troll
megamind Senior
Atlantis
Keylin Sura Senior
Let me be the one to say congratulations that your plan came out perfect That I loved you? I love you Yet you have no idea how much I regret that It’s true what they say Love must be blind That’s why I stood by your side When you offered nothing in return Wish I knew back then What I know now Wish I could somehow go back in time And maybe listen to my own advice Well it’s too late The damage has been done Hollow man How did you get so shallow? You hurt me like I’ve never been hurt before Your heart is a rock Because you didn’t care In making me suffer In my deepest pain In my weakest hour In my darkest nights You said I was lovely Dead, not alive, but human inside You’ve always been a huge piece of shit You said I couldn’t live without you Then how am I still breathing? I really don’t wanna live inside of this Think it’s time for me to let this go Don’t wanna be in love with you Don’t ever try to touch me again
It took you by surprise The hatred in my eyes I don’t know why though, you pushed this madness as far as you could go And I lacked the words to let you know I had been praying and waiting That you might grow up And change your ways All the crying and lying I couldn’t find my way to escape You took your time knowing I wasn’t Gonna go anywhere I wouldn’t have left to just save myself It’s gonna hurt when you realize I’m gone I’ve been nothing but good to you Don’t try to defy me Or even make an attempt My blinds are off and I’m running again From you I finally woke up and exclaimed That I’m done with your Plastic promises
Magic Behind the Mask
Ella Bonesteel, Jena Kirstine, and Reece Towle Freshmen
Cyber Light
Frances Rodriguez Caraballo Senior
Bridge of Sighs MaKayla Ayotte Junior
Meaning
Connor Eitzmann Sophomore
Surviving and Living Different in meaning, connected through understanding Often confused and jumbled, Their true definitions forgotten. Surviving, the goal of life, avoiding, even preventing death Living, to be alive, achieved by survival Myself, writing now, am living Surviving, instinctive, almost forgotten by my own mind. Free time. Free time is not needed to survive. But is created to give meaning to life. Meaning. A privilege of constant survival, and a keystone of life Why would we live if we didn’t want to? Meaning brings emotion to life, Introduces emotion to your mind And affects every decision you have made in the past And every decision you will make in the future. Emotion is something that a person cannot live without. No person has lived if they haven’t experienced love, or joy Nor have they lived if they haven’t experienced sadness and anger Without meaning, none of these emotions exists And the mind is at a standstill Your life means something to you For humans, life has meaning So you spend your life fulfilling that meaning. That is truly what we live for Meaning is what keeps you alive Beyond living and beyond surviving Meaning is truly what life leans on For us, we are lucky, fortunate, and privileged To be the only life intelligent enough To experience it. To live it. And most of all, To mean it. 79
High School Reality Aireyonna White
Senior High school is hard. It’s a time period where you are trying to find who you are. However, you stray further away from that goal because we are so caught up in trying to impress others and be more like them than ourselves. We change our hair, our style and sometimes even our slang. Everyone has different We try to change our personality but that’s harder perspectives of percep- than it sounds so instead we tweak it and learn how to fake it. We want to be “perfect” but what is tions of perfection. “perfect”? Everyone has different perspectives of perceptions of perfection.We mask ourselves.The quote is ¨fake it till you make it”. How do you know when you have made it? Is it finally when that cute boy you like ask you out? Is it when you have so many “friends¨ that you don’t look lonely? Or is it when you have lost yourself completely to where you don’t even know who you are. You look in the mirror and you see a stranger staring back at you. Is that when you have made it? Let’s be real. Nobody is going to remember the dress you wore to prom, the one you went broke for, just because people said, “O. M. G. that’s so cute, you have to get it.” Even though you didn’t like it yourself. Nobody is going to remember if you had the new iphoneX you begged your mom for. She got it for you even though she couldn’t afford it, and she went even deeper into debt because she wanted you to be happy. Nobody is going to remember that you were that one girl with the Air Force A1 Nikes. The ones your dad got you instead of getting new shoes for himself, because even though his back is hurting, he’d rather see you happy. Everyone is sacrificing things just so you can be “happy.” In reality, the only thing people are going to remember you by is if you were nice or rude to them. All the other things don’t matter. The only thing that really matters is if you can look at yourself in the mirror and be happy, and I mean truly happy, with what and who you see. The only thing that That is what people are going to remember when you’re walking across the stage to get that diploma. really matters is if you All that matters in that moment is your hard work, can look at yourself your dedication, and your ability to stay true to in the mirror and be yourself. Not who you were friends with, not what happy... with what and you wore, but how you treated others including who you see. yourself.
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Shattered Glass: Betrayals Upon Betrayals Berbida Kalokola Senior
All she wanted was to stop hearing that phrase She tried to ignore and care less But she failed She tried to hide her rage, sorrow, desperation But she failed She opened a new chapter in her life She failed miserably, because things didn’t go as planned So she faced something, Something that almost devoured her She looked at herself in the mirror She hated what she saw She took a look at the scale The level of her hatred increased She made a list of everything she wanted to change It was finally when she proved that she cared, She cared about everything they stated And so her true self began experiencing destruction Her obsession made her feel vulnerable, Physically and emotionally That feeling made her come to a realization: Who cares what anyone thinks or says I am enough She tried to recover She lacked at first, but succeeded in the end She embraced everything she hated And mentioned her body as the house she grew up in And is still growing up in So why should she try to change it
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A Year Of You Cailey Wills Junior
Month 1:
You turned it into a pawn shop. I sat patiently on a shelf, collecting dust until it was convenient for you to love me again.
Month 2:
My brain was a stopwatch, counting the hours it took for you to come back. I kept counting and counting and counting, hoping that someone would hit the reset button that did not exist.
Month 3:
My heart was a photo album. Each picture I pulled from the boxes in the attic was a reminder of a time that you hurt me.
Month 4: I was walking on eggshells, anticipating the next episode. I wished that I could shut off the TV because I was tired of watching that show. Month 5:
At this point, I had forgotten what it was like to trust you. I wondered if any of it was real. Or was it all a lie fabricated by a bottle of Jack and a little something to ease the pain?
Month 6:
I had grown immune to the excuses and memorized them all by name. Each time that you repeated them, they lost more meaning.
Month 7: I tried to remember how things got that bad. You went from the person I trusted most to someone who I saw around from time to time.
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Month 8:
I laid awake at night thinking, Maybe it would be easier if we gave up. At least then it would be over.
Month 9:
I pushed my feelings further down, bottling them up into your drug of choice. Maybe if I pretended long enough, I would start to believe it too.
Month 10:
I made the mistake of giving you another chance. Like you would actually put me first this time. I let you fool me again, and I couldn’t have felt more foolish for it.
Month 11:
I couldn’t expect anymore than you could give me. I learned how to get through hell without the devil on my back.
Month 12:
I am strong, kind, beautiful, and smart. Everything I have and everything I am is because of me. You broke me, but I was the one who picked up the pieces and fixed me again.
The Tree
Yasmin Worth Sophomore
I am a tree Unique I may be You see me bare You see me full Vibrant and colourful Yet sad and alone I am useful For those who want me. Useless I am For those who are bothered by me. Everyone views me differently, And I do not care For I am a tree Unique as can be.
Shattered Jaeda Junior
The Final Bow Zach Wendling Senior
The time has finally come Where we must go our different ways I’m scared to go because there’s So much to say So much to know So much to let loose But it’s okay because This is not goodbye Surrounded by friends Loved by families This is the moment The moment I’ve lived for Moments of magic and Moments of inspiration Where dreams were fought and Relationships won Where dreams were created and Journeys filled with fun We’ve been through a lot Pushed to our breaking points Directed in other directions Torn apart by mistakes but We’re still here We’re still standing We’re still fighting because This is not goodbye Every experience Every moment Every gesture Every tear Worth the hours of work Now is not the end No Now is the time Now is the time to love 84
To connect To look forward To soak it all in We may fight We may cry We may not make sense but the Memories I’ll never forget I’ve grown because of you and the Freedom you created and the Love you gave out like confetti so How could this be goodbye How could this be our final moment The story is far from over When our paths are still intertwined Thanks for the experiences Thanks for the laughs Thanks for everything I won’t give back Thanks for the friends Thanks for the family Thanks for the stories I’ll always remember Thanks for the dreams Thanks for the opportunities Thank you from the very bottom of my Love-filled heart This chapter may be ending but How could this be goodbye How could this be our final moment The story is far from over and when Our paths are still intertwined We may be going our different ways but This is not goodbye No This is just the beginning
Mother Nature
Victor Bedolla
Sophomore
The Way
Mark Yarmolyuk Junior
Final Thoughts from the 2019 Staff
A huge thank you to everyone who submitted their art and writting pieces! This book could not be possible without you!
Istoria is a place where words truly have value-- it is a home for the written word and pictured mind that can both be expressed without scrutiny. Istoria is a place where we come to be ourselves without descrimination, become published authors and artists, and live to our fullest potential. Istoria is a legacy that will be carried out throughout the years. Thank you all for helping us continue this legacy!
TOP (LEFT TO RIGHT): Richard Bui, Paul Malanga, Zach Wendling, Donny Tran, Jessa Alspaugh; MIDDLE (LEFT TO RIGHT): Lindsay Masin (student teacher), Samantha Grove, Morgan McMeen-Mitchell, Ninian Tong, Serenity Kraus, MaKayla Ayotte; BOTTOM (LEFT TO RIGHT): Maggie Deschaine (teacher), Keylin Sura, Morgan Spellman, Abigail Taber, Cailey Wills.
Check out our website for past volumes! Scan the QR Code or visit https://bit.ly/2vz8h46
We can’t wait to read YOUR work! 87
Index Abotebeekh, Rosl 14 Allen, Sierra 28 Alramahy, Nadim 7, 61 Alpsaugh, Jessa 24 Anthens, Maya 42 Ayotte, MaKayla 42, 78 Bazzi, Suliman 57 Bedolla, Victor 85 Boko, Aya 20 Bolich, Amber 24 Bonsteel, Ella 75 Bourassa, Hailey 19, 21, 41 Bryan, Anna 41 Bui, Laura 55 Cady, Madison 66 Campbell, Madi 9 Castro, Josef 22 Cruztila Hernandez, Lizeth 64 Cumblidge, Taylor 10 DeGarmo, Nick 36 Demyanovskiy, Eugene 43 Dinh, Francis 9 Eliers, Rylie 28 Eitzmann, Connor 79 Elhaj, Mohamed 67 Elliott, Sam 66 Enfield, Kayla 9 Erickson, Josie 61 Farr, Hannah 16 Figueroa, Desiree 63
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Francisco, Alison 30 Grove, Samantha 56 Gudgel, George 18 Haba-Dailey, Kyra 8 Hemmerling, Grace 52 Henning, Joshua 62 Hillman, Olyvia 40 Ho, Bergson 58 Hughes, Winter 65 Humprey, Jordan 11, 35, 48, 59 Hunzeker, Makenzie 68 Huynh, Kenny 47 Joyner, Jordan 23 Kalokola, Berbida 81 Kirstine, Jena 75 Kraus, Serenity 14 Lamb, Sydney 38 Lawrence, Khiara 54 Limon, Kendra cover, 51 Malanga, Paul 49 McMeen-Mitchell, Morgan 26, 72 Messersmith, Seth 71 Milisits, Blake 53 Minnick, Devin 35 Mora, Alexandra 12 Morales, Zitlaly 17 Myers, Paige 62 Newkirk, Kylie 36 Nguyen, Carlene 70 Niemann, Cassie 10, 51
Olberding, Charlotte 33 Perez, Natalie 8, 69 Polak, MaKalya 32 Renteria, Bertina 46 Rogriguez Caraballo, Frances 76 Rosenthal, Abigal 31 Roth, Lyndsey 60 Salinas, Irving 6 Seip, Jake 44 Shapland, Haylie 37 Siverina, Yana 29 Spellman, Morgan 52 Sura, Keylin 74 Taber, Abigail 48 Terry, Abagail 17 Thomas, Maliyah 19 Tong, Ninian 15, 34 Towle, Reece 75 Tran, Donny 25 Walker, Cayleigh 30 Walter, Jaeda 50, 83 Wells, Tryphena 11 Wendling, Zach 84 White, Aireyonna 80 Wills, Cailey 82 Witcig, Madi 64 Worth, Yasmin 83 Yarmolyuk, Mark 33, 70, 86 Zabel, Clover 72