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Havelock 2021

Lincoln Northeast High School Lincoln Public Schools Lincoln, Nebraska 2021

Lincoln Northeast Literary Magazine Copyright 2021 by Havelock Staff All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any way whatsoever without written permission. Published by Firespring 1201 Infinity Ct. Lincoln, NE 68512 Cover art Baby Yaga’s Hut by Collin Lupo Title page by Julie Davisson Advised by Kaley Reda

Staff Comments We really had fun putting this magazine together. We ran into many obstacles: some we would have experienced during a normal year and some came about because of the pandemic. We worked through the adversity we faced, learned a bit about ourselves, and put together the best magazine we could. There were a lot submissions this year that seemed to represent the difficult year we all had. We got to know ourselves more, and even though it was uncomfortable at times, we now have a better idea of who we are and what we want during this time we have. Hellen Keller once wrote, “Never bend your head. Always hold it high. Look the world straight in the eye.” As this year has shown, when we are knocked down, we can choose to bend or we can continue on the best way that we know how to. It is this that helps us move forward as students and as a society. A new year means more stories to share and many more students having a real chance to express themselves through creative mediums. It was our greatest joy to provide an outlet for students’ voices. A big thank you to everyone for the work you submitted and for allowing us to share your work with others. With love, The Havelock Staff

Table of

06 The Pain in my Chest - Devon Holland 07 Lovers - Korabeth Carter 08 Pain - Avan Saleh 08 Fear - Sa Kyaw 09 Deadbeat Dad - Alexis Aldrich 09 Joker - Kaidence Bronson 10 Eye - Kaidence Bronson 10 I Have A Voice But I Don’t Have The Power - Humoom Darweesh 16 Our World - Addison Wedding 17 Hunger - Klee Hamelin 18 Smile - Jordyn Warburton 18 Mochi: 9 weeks vs. 4.5 months - Trista Topil 19 Despondency - Vedah Henrichs 19 The Honor of the Fallen - Caitlin Mace 20 Bones -Collin Lupo 21 The Unknown Man - D’Kota Thomas 23 Pure Animal - Devon Holland 23 The Wolf Within - Devon Holland 24 Out of the Dark - Monica Montez 25 Fearie Traveler - Collin Lupo 26 Hollow - Collin Lupo 27 Sweet Adolescence - Devon Holland 29 Max’s Accident - Devon Holland 30 Storm - Makia Dill 30 Black Lives Matter - James Morehead 31 Wrong Place Wrong Time - James Morehead 32 Blank mind, blank ceiling - Aiden Boyd 33 A new light - Zoe McCullough 34 Emotions - Inas Hskan 35 Colors of life 2 - Inas Hskan 36 Unthinkables - Cathy Apolot

Contents 36 Ghoul - Anthony States 37 Sparrow’s Promise - Devon Holland 38 Teifling - Collin Lupo 38 Kira and Killer Queen - Collin Lupo 38 Diavolo and King Crimson - Collin Lupo 38 DIO and the World - Collin Lupo 39 They’re not what they seem - Shyann Chrichton 39 Ashins’ anathema - Austin Kuhnel 40 Scatterbrain - Sarah Suhr 42 Zentangle - Aidan Tyburski 43 Experience - Devon Holland 44 Red & Blue Skies -Fynn Glantz 44 A Peaceful Day - Grace Christensn-Spies 47 Imaginary - Micah Schlegel 47 Subject 12 - Erin Cissell 48 Welcome Home - Devon Holland 49 Gingerbread Man - Kaidence Bronson 50 Reality - Inas Hskan 51 Fire’s Mother - Korabeth Carter 52 On Dreaming Up A Goddess - Cathy Apolot 52 Green Eyes - Audrey Hofeling 52 Illuminated - Audrey Hofeling 53 Clementine - Aminah Suleiman Morales 53 Cherry Blossom Tree - Sarah Cejka 53 Fresh Roses - Kaidence Bronson 54 Jestro and Sugar - Devon Holland 56 A City of Sterotypes - Korabeth Carter 56 Skies - Inas Hskan 57 clockwork office worker - Collin Lupo 58 The Book of Rænar - John Conroy 64 Amogus Rap - William Cole 65 Goose - Billy Walters

The pain in my chest Devon Holland Junior

It won’t go away It won’t rest It won’t sway My heart is aching My breath is panting My body is shaking My eyes are leaking I loved and I lost I deserve to rot No one would see it as a cost Except for those few who would not I broke her heart She broke mine So why does it hurt to part When my love is dying?

Lovers

Korabeth Carter Freshman 7

Pain

Avan Saleh Senior

Your suffering is the layers of a blooming flower that form outside of your confortability Even as the petals begin peeling away and slowly surrender to the laws of nature, you shall recognize its pain Could you stay intact with the idea of inevitability while facing so much loss? You will learn to accept the changing of seasons and the colors slowly fading, despite how beautiful they once were You’ll wander past the enclosed walls you built to shelter you from cold winds At first, you may shift the blame on a world too cruel to leave happiness alone But the feeling of emptiness lies deep within you It’s the addictive sensation your body overdoses on to keep you from feeling fulfilled And the more you notice what you’re doing, the less you trust yourself But the hollow space left untouched between your skin and bones Is left still to be filled by unconditional love You have yet to find for yourself And as the shattered image of your reflection Triggers the nerves in your brain to respond with words of hatred You fail to see the beauty surrounding your chaos

Fear

Sa Kyaw Senior

Deadbeat Dad Alexis Aldrich Sophomore

Joker Kaidence Bronson Freshman

You make me feel as if I’m not enough But I know I am, I know I’m tough You have your family I have mine To think, I thought I was apart of yours, I was way out of line Just stay away from me please I’m begging on my knees Whenever I’m around you I feel nothing but sad Man just own up to your mistakes “dad” I thought I was your first But you treat me like a curse You never care to call, to check in I tell you how I feel and you throw it in a trash bin I just want a win but every game you play I always lose I mean come on, you couldn’t even buy me new shoes Please believe not everything is your fault But because of you I keep my heart in a vault I’m stuck with these trust issues Praying every night God hears my wishes You don’t know me, you compare us but we are not the same When people ask about my dad I feel shame You understand abandonment, it hurts But you still put me through it, all this pain is unbearable, my tears blurt My siblings get you in their life Maybe, just maybe I’ll get you in the afterlife Understand how I feel Also understand why there are feelings I can’t reveal Nothing hurts more than feeling like you’re not enough for your own father But just wait until I’m older and you become a grandfather Maybe you’ll care about me then But it will be too late, I’ll never want to see you again I’m tired of you holding this boulder on my shoulder I’m realizing I don’t need you After all I’ve been through I’m finally in a place where I’m as happy as can be If you cared enough you’d see You’re nothing but bad Just go back to bed deadbeat dad.

Eye Kaidence Bronson Freshman

I Have A Voice But I Don’t Have The Power

Humoom Darweesh Senior Age: 0 The world was dark for my family. A young legend, my uncle, died. My dad’s younger brother. My grandpa was dying inside because he was the one who gave them patience. He got sick and nobody could tell what his sickness was. He was sick for only 10 days. His sickness wasn’t cancer. It was just some cold. No one believed his death. My village was all shocked and wore black for months. He was an angel. I didn’t get to see him but I know for sure he would’ve loved me. Age: 1 Two weeks after my uncle’s death, I was born. My dad named me Humoom which means sadness. He said “I named you that because there was so much pain and sadness.” “Hopefully, her future is not like her name,” my mom said. My mom took care of my dad and his things because it was her responsibility. My dad was a teacher and woke up every day at 5 am. He worked out for an hour and came home with everything ready in the bathroom for him to take a shower. Every single day my mom HAD to wake up, warm the water, get his clothes ready, and make his breakfast before 7. My dad was not a morning person and he would complain about everything my mom did for him. Her life was hard and she never complained because she was a woman. In December, the month we had a fasting holiday, all the women in the house woke up at 3:30 am to get everything ready for the men before they woke up. They were scared that their husband’s would wake up and the food was not ready or the water was not warm enough for them. Dads were yelling and swearing just because the bathroom wasn’t ready. Women were treated like slaves.

Age 2: I grew up with a big family and I loved it so much. Life was fun. I was a crazy runner. I loved going out and running. I was always with my cousins. I would sleep with them and they took care of me like my parents. My cousins were twins and they loved me and treated me like a princess. Age 3: I felt so free. I could do whatever. I grew up quickly. I loved my mom so much to point, I would yell at people when I would see my mom working too much. Once I saw my mom cleaning the house by herself and then went to make food for my dad before he came back from school. I went to her and told her, “MOM, MOM, why are you doing this all by yourself? You are hurting your back. When I get big, I’m going to do all this instead of you.” When I would see my mom going through something hard, I would feel the pain inside me. My mom worked too much and didn’t care about herself. In the cold, she would work until it was time for bed. When she was sick, she would hide her sickness because she was too worried about the house and my dad. She knew if she got sick, nobody would feed her kids or take care of them. He would still say, “Where is the food, where is the warm water, and why is the bathroom not ready?” even though he knew that my mom was sick. I started to hate my dad because of the way he treated my mom. He loved me so much, but I ran away from him. Sometimes, I would tell myself, “Maybe it’s not his fault. That’s what his parents taught him and that’s how his dad treats his mom.” The way he grew up was different too and maybe didn’t get taught how to treat women. He looked at other men and they were doing the same thing to their wives. Age 4: Life continued, and my mom kept hurting. She would talk about how she loved her mom so much and she worked for her. My mom had her first baby at age 14. She never attended school, and she got married at age 12. She was SO strong. She loved everyone and my dad so much, even though people were mean to her. The poorness that she lived in was difficult. Age 5: I loved soccer. I started playing soccer, and I just fell in love with it. I played with my cousins for the whole day and came home at night. I loved myself and my life too. After every day I became better and better at soccer. There wasn’t a team for girls; there was only a team for boys. Even though they didn’t have a team for girls, nothing could stop me. I was really in love with soccer. Soccer pretty much took over my life. I loved it so much because it made me feel so different from other women. I didn’t want to be like them, I wanted to compete like a man. Age 6: I felt pretty good about myself, but there was still unfairness toward my mom. I wanted to help her with everything and try to fight for her. Every man treated women in the same way, even my brothers. I did wish that I was a boy because I looked at men’s lives, and there was so much freedom. They always had the right to yell or say whatever they wanted, and they would never think it was disrespectful. My life was fine, but I wasn’t happy. I was recognizing things I wasn’t supposed to. I was scared that I wouldn’t have the opportunity to be any different from the rest of the women in my village and that I would end up marrying too. There wasn’t such a future for those women. The only option that I saw was marriage. I remember my dad taking my older sister out of school because he didn’t like the people that she was walking with at school. All my brothers were at school with her too, but there was only jugement toward her. Even my cousins were being pulled out of high school for no good reason because the adults said, “They will get married anyway, so why are they even going and letting us down?” Age 7: Not after a while my cousin, Bashera, got married at 14 years old. I was going to elementary school, and I had dreams, but I never really thought that those dreams would ever become true. Parents controlled their daughters’ lives. It was my sister’s turn to get married because she wasn’t going to school. It happened just like, and my sister got engaged to my cousin. In our culture, we can get married with our cousins. My sister was really young and I felt bad that she had to get married at the age of 15. I would look at her and think, “Why can’t she just say she doesn’t want to get married?”

However, I realized if she did, she would be a shame to my family. After a month or so, my sister didn’t want to marry him, but everybody told her hurtful things. The first thing my older brother said was, “We will kill you and not have a funeral.” My dad did the same thing too, and he didn’t respect the fact that his daughter was too young for marriage. I thought because my dad was a teacher he would understand because he was educated. My mom didn’t even support her own daughter. My sister was disappointed in her whole family, especially my mom because she was supposed to be the one who protected her, but she was silenced. My sister had to get married and she did. She became a new person. Marriage changed her so much. Age 8: My sister became happier because she became used to the unfairness. Once I remember her saying how much she loved her husband and how should couldn’t wait for him to come back home from work in Baghdad. After only six months of her marriage with him, he was shot at his work. He died and all of us entered a new dark world. He was only 18. My sister found out while she was watching the DVD of her wedding. His whole family was shocked and nobody believed it because all my cousins, my brothers, and his dad were with him. My sister was dead inside. There was no way for her to believe that he was gone forever. She was too young for all this. Her whole life changed. My whole family was lost and disappointed in themselves. We all thought that there was no more light for us. I was home helping my dad in the house because everyone was at my sister’s house. I had terrible dreams and nightmares about her husband. I always dreamed about him coming back and wished they were real. It was so hard to believe. I would fall apart when I would see my sister because she looked scary and old. Age 9: I felt big, but I felt good because I was doing what I loved. I loved sports. I loved education. I played soccer, but I didn’t know the roles for women yet. I started playing outside where people judged women for playing, but why would anyone judge a nine-year-old kid? After a week of playing outside, I found out that my parents were ashamed of me for playing soccer. The judgement that they had toward women changed my life at age nine. People made me stop what I loved just because I was a female. After, going out and playing soccer became harder and harder. My world changed and I changed into an old woman. I was burning inside. I felt my own parents were pulling my childhood from me and giving it to my brothers. Everyday, I learned something new about cleaning the house. “Teaching girls at a young age how to clean is better for tomorrow when they get married so they can take care of everything their husband wants,” women around said. Many women were happy with what they were going through. I told myself that I would be happy one day too, but I didn’t think they were showing what was truly inside of them. I felt they were taking my future from me. I was so hurt because I thought one day I might become a soccer player, but not anymore. I became hopeless. My whole world changed. I started forgetting about sport or any kid stuff. I loved being at home and cleaning with my mom and sisters. I got used to it, and I didn’t feel any pain by things that used to hurt my feelings. I felt strong but also weak inside. I really became happy with my life. I didn’t have any other options. My sister was still going through pain, and she became an old lady. She didn’t care about herself. Nothing really mattered to her. She hated my parents because they controlled her life and made decisions for her. I looked at her and felt so hurt and wished I could do something to make her feel okay and safe. Age 10: I would cry in the bathroom every time I saw how my dad treated my mom and I got used to that too. When my dad said something disrespectful to my mom, I couldn’t help her and that’s what hurt me the most. I saw my dad making so many mistakes and my brothers too, but they never got punishments. But if a woman made a mistake, everything would be her fault and she would be punished no matter what. I kept everything inside me silent. The way women were treated felt like slavery. I started hating all men, even my own brothers and dad. I looked at them and thought, “Do men have a heart or feelings?” They were harming their wives. Women didn’t have any options when they were in a situation and didn’t have the rights to protect themselves.

My sister was still in hell. She wore all black and her face turned black. Everybody was scared of her face. Her mother-in-law returned her to our house. Now she was living with us and we all had so much respect for her, and she became my second mom. She gave me and my other sister so much advice. What she went through was something she wished nobody should go through. She became the mom of my mom. She gave advice to my mom and the whole family and shaped our family to a new way of thinking. My whole family was scared of her sometimes because everything she said was true about my parents. Every time something came up about marriage for my other sister, my parents would think really carefully because of what they did to my older sister. Age 11: I gave up on my life and started hating myself. I would fight myself and my mom. I would yell, “WHY DID YOU HAVE ME MOM? WHY WASN’T I A BOY?” I had a really bad relationship with my mom because when I would see my brothers doing what they loved, it made me go crazy. I told her, “Why didn’t you kill me when you had me and found out I was a girl?” I thought I was used to the women’s world, but I wasn’t; I was pushing myself. I had a great relationship with my sisters, but I still wasn’t happy inside. I wanted to change things, but I didn’t have any power or any voice. If I said something to my dad or my brothers, I would be disrespectful, but when they said something that was really wrong, it would never be counted disrespectful. I did what other women did too. I ignored and lived with it. But, I always had a feeling that one day, I wouldn’t stand for the unequal treatment. Age 12: In 2014 when ISIS came to Northern Iraq and attacked Sinjar, many women were forced into sexual slavery. So many women were taken, abused, and sold. Many men died. Life was such a struggle. We had no home, no food, and everything was dangerous. We left our home and ran into the streets. People were screaming and crying on the street for their kids or their parents. Mothers killed their own kids so they wouldn’t get abused by ISIS. None of us knew if there was going to be a tomorrow. Everybody thought that it was the end of life. My family was really big. We had a truck, but my uncles and aunties didn’t have anything. Our responsibility was to try to help anyone that didn’t have a car, so we ended up carrying about 35-40 people in the car. I was sitting in the trunk with so many people. The street was crazy with cars and people just trying to get out of there. That’s when everybody started crying and jumping out of their cars to run. I was looking at people and said, “I wish this was one of my bad dreams.” It was real. We didn’t sleep for days. Our truck was our home now. My mom told me, “YES, I will kill you if ISIS comes.” I cried for days and thought that I would kill myself too if ISIS took me because I would rather die than be abused by them. Age 13: Life was way different and the way of thinking became more restricted for women. We were in a really small hotel in Duhok. There was only one room and one bathroom. There were 20-25 people living in one room. The only people in the hotel were refugees and people from my village. I loved everything that was going on in that hotel because everybody cooked in one kitchen and shared materials. Nobody cared about wealth because nobody was sure if there would be an end to the war. Living was hard, and Yazidis were going through a lot. Despite the pain everyone was going through, I still saw smiles and looks of hope on their faces. The ones that didn’t have good relationships with each other before the war were now friends and family. My cousin Bashera who was married at age 14 was living in Duhok with her husband’s family. She got so skinny and everybody questioned it. Her hotel was really close to ours and she loved us so much. I remember her coming to our hotel to stay for dinner, and we could see her back and shoulder were bruised. She was scared and so worried. My mom asked her if everything was okay, but she said she got into a fight with her husband about coming to visit us. My mom told her, “You don’t have to come here if your husband is mad about it.”

My cousin said,” But I really missed everyone and you guys are like my family.” I went to the bathroom and kept thinking about how her husband was stopping her from seeing her family after she left. She was so beautiful and nice and had a beautiful daughter. Her daughter was around age 4. I wished she was being treated the right way. One day, we got news that Bashera was really sick. Her husband’s family took her to the hospital in Duhok. She had surgery, but I didn’t understand what it was for. She was very sick and had several surgeries. I didn’t understand what was happening. Age 14: Everybody was still not back at their homes. We moved to a new hotel in Duhok, but we still had one room and one bathroom and a small hallway to cook. Women would spend all day cooking or cleaning. I would get yelled at if I went to a store that was one minute away from the hotel. I was not mad because they were protecting me. I saw the way ISIS treated women. I was scared too. I didn’t think anybody wanted to be killed in any of those ways. My dad would go back to the village often to check our house and see what was happening at the school because he was a teacher. He never took me and I would cry like a little baby because I missed my house so much. I missed everything about my old life. I wanted to be normal again. I wanted to go home, sleep, and eat right. My first day going back home with my dad and old sister to clean the house before everyone else comes. I kissed every single door in my house because I was so happy to be back again. I slept like I was in heaven. The next day, everyone was home happy and finally able to treat themselves like human beings. Age 15: Life was still hard because everyday we would hear helicopters, shootings and bombs. Our village wasn’t safe at all, but we didn’t have any other options. None of us wanted to go back to those hotels because it was hell. We all would wake at 4 am and hear bombs and guns. Sometimes my older brother would be up till 6 am to make sure everyone was safe and then he would switch the next day with someone else. Things were getting settled up and school started. School started and my dad and my brother went to the same school, so they would go together. I had a chance to actually go to high school and I was so excited. However, there was no way my parents would let me because they were scared of ISIS attacking schools. I said to my dad, “I will be with you and my brother.” I really wanted to go, but nobody supported me, not even my mom. I cried for months, but it didn’t help at all. I looked at my brother and thought, “Why do I have to go through this and not him?” Marriage was the only option that my parents had in their mind for me. I was said to be the honor of the family, but instead I was treated like a big, dangerous nothing.

I felt old because all the girls my age were married and some of them already had kids. I did think about getting married. There was a family asking my parents if I could marry their son. I didn’t care if my parents were going to say yes to the marriage. It was my life, but I didn’t control any of it. My mom asked me about it, and I told her, “Whatever works for you and dad. You can decide whatever.” However, my older brother wouldn’t let them marry me off, and he asked my mom, “Does she even know what marriage is or anything about it?” My parents avoided the family and told them to never come to our house. We got some pictures of my cousin in the hospital in Germany and she looked like a scary old lady. Her hair, her face, and her body were so changed and scary. We never gave up on her; we all prayed 24/7 and always had hope of her getting better. My neighbor’s son was getting married soon. We were close to them, so we were really excited, but we were sad at the same time because of my cousin’s health. It was the wedding day and we all rushed around and were getting ready. I needed the straightener for my hair, so I went to go get it from my cousin, and I saw my aunt coming towards me crying, ”She left! She left! She passed away!”

I felt something shoot me in my heart. I went back home and looked at everyone dressed up and happy, and I lost words. Everyone found out and we all sat on the ground with our heads in our hands and tears flowed like the ocean. She was too young. Our world was dark again and we all were tired of losing our young legends. After years of getting over my other cousin who was shot in Baghdad, now another cousin was dead. Our family didn’t taste happiness. My parents wanted to be out of Iraq. My uncle worked with Americans and he applied to go to America. He asked us if we wanted to go and my parents wanted to try. We didn’t really believe that it was going to work, but we applied. My mom gave them all my brothers’ names but didn’t include me and my other olders sisters because we didn’t think anything would happen. We started the interviews with Americans and they said, ”Humoom Darweesh is only 15 years old and she can’t be left alone in Iraq.” They applied for me, and I was accepted. Then, we tried for my older sister too and prayed it would work because my parents wanted to bring light to my older sister’s life. They accepted all of us. We were so grateful that all of us were going to be together. Things were working out for us, but my uncle’s interviews stopped. We really wanted him to come with us too because he was the one who applied for us. We felt conflicted. We didn’t want to leave our home, and we didn’t want to stay. We also didn’t want to leave my older brother Saher. He was engaged and wanted to go to Germany. Age 16: In April 2017, we had many interviews. My family was happy but also sad because of leaving my brother and our home. I felt different because my dreams, my future were all frozen, but the idea of going to the United States gave me hope. When I heard that on May 18, 2017, we would be flying out, I felt like I could dream again like I did when I was little. I was so grateful that I could finally have an education and a real future, not just a future with marriage. When May 18 came, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with my brother. We left the house and I had this pain inside of me that was killing me. I cried all the way to America; it was unbelievable. We arrived three days later, and I couldn’t process that we were in the United States. I was so happy. I was reborn. I started a new life with everything I had wished for: education, a normal life, and dreams. I couldn’t wait for school to start because I had never been in high school before. I was so nervous, but happy because I had the opportunity to go to school and learn English and other things about America. My life was different now, and I felt like I was finally finding my voice.

Our world

We know We know Addison Wedding We know Sophomore We know what is happening We know because we try to stop it We know we are trying to stop it We know our world is dying We know even though they try to stop it We know that we can do something to stop it We know because we are smart We know they know it as well We know because we see hear smell feel We know no one wants to do anything about and we care it themselves We know that our world is not perfect We know they will eventually push their probWe know there is war lems onto us We know we could do better We know because we are smart We know we could try harder We know because we pay attention We know We know because we see We know We know because we hear We know We know because we smell We know but we are only capable of so We know because we feel much We know, do they care...no We know because they are stupid We know because we realize that our world is We know because they didn’t know dying We know even though they don’t want us to We know because our generation is different know We know because we are different We know We know We are smart We know We are capable We know We pay attention We know because we always say it We see We know but they don’t realize We hear We know because they aren’t smart We smell we know because they don’t pay attention We feel We know because they don’t see We care We know because they don’t hear We realize We know because they don’t smell We know We know because they don’t feel We know We know because they don’t care We know We know because they don’t realize We know a lot of things We know they don’t realize anything We know this is our world to protect We know

Hunger

Klee Hamelin Senior

Mochi: 9 weeks vs 4.5 months

Trista Topil Senior

Smile

Jordyn Warburton Freshman

All I gotta do is smile. As the tears fog my vision, I gotta smile. No matter what, don’ t let people know what I’m going through. Smile and pretend that ’s all you gotta do, smile it will all be ok , I promise. Cry behind closed doors. It ’s gonna be alright just breathe ok? Smile and breathe and breakdown later, just not now. Smile all you gotta do is smile. It will all be ok .

Despondency Vedah Henrichs Freshman

Rosy cheeks, a fine start. The foreigner walks upon a bleak landscape, barren with little foliage. Windswept trees scatter upon the fresh white snow, like sprinkles on a cookie. He’s lost in his thoughts, along with this unfamiliar world. No one to talk to, no one to trade a smile. Although a roof over his head may be nice, Although a few calories might suffice, All he has is the thin clothes on his back and the little amount of hope that remains with him.

The Honor of the Fallen Caitlin Mace Senior

He’s shivering at this point, The blizzarding snow gradually picking up did not help his case. But leaving Detroit was his best bet, heading north into the Canadian wilderness, Single handedly concerning his loved ones after an incident that is no longer his problem. He’d been walking for hours. He ditched his car on a freeway. He suddenly stops in his tracks, a cabin? A cabin. His sudden urge to feel warm again becomes more real. He’s yearning for the taste of something delicious to strengthen his now weak demeanor. But he has no more leisure, for the weaker he has bestowed upon. The cold may be taking over, for he becomes afraid. His hope I don’t this is the right word trickling down like a cascade of water. As he tries to evade death, All he can think about is his yearning for warmth. But it leaves him no strength, The hope that he once had Will soon fade, Along with the warmth of his once beating heart.

Bones Collin Lupo Junior

The Unknown Man D’Kota Thomas Senior

Christelle kicked and screamed in the back of the man’s van. No one could hear her, of course, not even the man driving it. There was duct tape over her mouth and rope blistering her wrists, forcing them behind her back. Even if all the man could hear were muffled cries, she could hear everything. Her lungs and throat burned painfully, and her own terrified screams resonated in her aching head; her heavy breathing taking its place when it occasionally stopped. She was overwhelmed and even that was an understatement. She was terrified. The kicking and screaming continued for hours. Eventually, after what felt like days, Christelle stopped. She couldn’t do anything. She began to feel around the back of the van for anything she could use to cut the rope that bound her wrists. No sooner than she began to do so, the van screeched to a stop, her chest throbbed with fear as she heard the man slam his door and stomp to the rear door. As the hatch slowly rose, her breathing rose with it. Her cheeks were covered in blotchy, dark tears, stained black from her mascara. As his arms reached out for her, she began to scream and kick with incredible ferocity. She stuck him with her sharp heels and the man howled in pain. He reached for her again, but struck her in the head causing her to black out. Christelle woke up hours later with so many things aching that she couldn’t think straight. The duct tape was removed from her mouth, but her arms were still bound. As she looked around, she realized she was tied to a thick, metal pole that reached from the floor to the ceiling. She was in some kind of warehouse. The floor was stained in dirt, scratches, and miscellaneous stains that weren’t much of a mystery. It was so dark she could barely see any food in front of her. She didn’t know what was beyond that. She didn’t want to. She wanted to leave. The man soon approached slowly, each footstep savagely creepy “There is no point in fighting you know,” his voice was low and gravelly. She shook really hard out of fear and couldn’t utter a single word. She looked him straight in the eyes, glowing with hatred. “I’ll never stop,” she spat out. “What a shame.” The man sighed and bent down to her level. As he ran his hand along her cheek, she spat at him. His lips curled back and he grabbed her forcefully. She struggled and kicked, but she couldn’t do anything. He slowly began to untie her and a sudden realization struck her. “NO, NO, STOP! NO!” She screamed as loud as she could.

She dug her nails into his arms but he didn’t budge. His hands found her neck and she squirmed and fought for her life, for her pride, and then everything went black again for Christelle. Christelle was almost happy to be back in the darkness. It was more peaceful and less horrifying, and easier to forget. That’s all she wanted to do was forget this whole thing, from beginning to end. This morning when she had woken up, it was all she ever wanted. It was nearly a normal day. She had woken up, taken a run, and even got to work. Everything was normal and then it wasn’t. Then, he came, he acted sick; he was hacking and coughing, and Christelle had believed him when she got out of her car. And then... “Young lady, thank you.” “Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you? Like anything at all? Do you need me to give you a ride, or maybe get you some money?” “You’re very kind, but I have a car, somewhere over there, if I can just get to it. Please...” he coughed roughly into his mudded leather jacket. “Of course here.” She helped him lean against her shoulder and tenderly brought him around the alley, where an old grey van with dark windows was parked. She didn’t even stop to question it, but she shivered. She would help him in his van and go quickly. When they both got closer to his van, it almost seemed he had fully regained all of his strength. As soon as they had neared the van, the man’s demeanor shifted. He grabbed her as she screamed. She knew the street was far away, but she prayed that someone would hear her. He threw his grubby hands over her mouth and threw her into the van. She kicked at him and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he bounded her hands behind her back so tightly with a rope that felt more like sharp knives. She felt herself beginning to wake up. She was on the cold, hard, concrete floor, she sprawled out like a corpse. She shouldn’t feel either of her hands as she stirred. She felt a sharp, agonizing pain shoot through her body and she screamed. She waited for the man to come busting in, but he didn’t. She was alone in the warehouse. Not wanting to move any longer, she just lay there on the ground, feeling a mix of heinous vulnerability and excruciating pain. In the single flicker of light that surrounded the warehouse, she could see her torso and legs covered in bruises and blood. But she was alive, and she had to leave as soon as she could. The next few minutes were among the most painful she had ever experienced in her life. She dragged herself across the floor; each simple movement was a source of misery. But in the end all she could think was how it was going to be worth it. She looked up at the door that swung open at her simple touch, and her heart began to flutter. She stopped in her tracks, hearing a terrible familiar voice stuck her with fear in her heart she would never come to know “Just where do you think you’re going?”

Pure Animal Devon Holland Junior

The Wolf Within Devon Holland Junior

I don’t know why I feel the way I do. It’s like there is a feral wolf inside of me, howling to be released, in search of the love it so solely craves. Oddly enough, I don’t know why I can’t just let it go. It’s misunderstood and in the end, it is unimportant to most people what my true emotions are. I see most people as friends, or siblings, but this girl is special. She makes me happy, and the savage beast within me is becoming more and more tame. I don’t know if I’m a mess, but I know that she is the one who’ll tame this rabid beast. I don’t know why I see myself this way, but in the end, I suspect I will come to accept myself for the person that I am. People may see it differently, say I’m a freak, a weirdo, or even an apathetic individual, but I do care about others. I just have had a very hard time showing it. And this girl is making me show how much I care more and more. It’s strange, but oddly comforting, as I feel relaxed around her, and I feel like I can truly be myself around her. I don’t know what I can do about what other people think of me, but I know that in the end, I can only be the one thing I’ve always been: Myself. And I won’t let anyone challenge the fact that I’m a tame wolf who just needs compassion.

Out of the Dark Monica Montez Junior Out from the light came a monster. With long nails containing dirt. The people would walk by without giving it a glance. When some did, they would steer clear of the monster. There would be those who would dare to go near it. But the monster’s faith was not tricked. It knew the others would never like ‘it’. Buildings were made just for the monster to go away. Out of the light came a monster. With hair filled with the ground’s elements. Cold liquid would flow down it from its head all the way to the floor. It was the sky’s cry that looked down on the monster as it prepared for the lonely night. The monster cuddled by the damp ground. With no home to feel safe and warm in, it lay there. With no food in it’s stomach, it lay there. With no love to console it, it lay there. Out of the light came a monster. With a nose as dark as the night sky it cries to. It would sneak through dark alleys at night and feed off of what the dumpster provided. It would sit near the same spot every day in hope for the right people to come by. The ones who forgot ‘it’. There were those who would try to help. It was brought food by a lady with a face filled with wrinkles who wore oversized clothing. Out of the dark came a lady. With enough money to woo Bill Gates. While walking she would see something with long nails accompanied by dirt. She would see others treat this something with negligence. She was giving the help she could. This something was strongly opinionated with trust issues. The lady wanted to help it. Out of the dark came a lady with wrinkles for every tragedy in her life. On her walk she saw something with hair filled with dirt. The lady was in a rush and couldn’t bring it food like usual. After work she went back to her home. A home where she felt safe and warm in. A home where she felt no starvation. A home with no love. Out from the dark came a lady. With baggy clothes to hide her from a judgemental world. She walked like normal. The ‘something’ wasn’t there. So she started walking back home after placing the food on the floor. After walking a block, she heard rapid tapping from behind her, the air smelled like old cheese and the smell was so strong you could taste it. The wind hit her face as she felt her ‘something’ jump on her leg, wagging its tail. Out of the light and into the dark came a monster. Out of the dark and into the light came a lady. Not long after, the lady and her dog escaped the dark and lived in the light.

Faerie Traveler Collin Lupo Junior

Hollow Collin Lupo Junior

Sweet Adolescence Devon Holland Junior

“You’re a strange one, Evan.” I turn at the sound of his voice. Daniel is looking at me with a look in his eye, one that is curious, not afraid, unlike the look that I receive from others. The look of fear. Just because I am slightly different. Awkward. Antisocial. Quiet. “Does that scare you?” I ask softly. I touch the wall of the locker room, his gaze burning into my back. I hear footsteps, and then his soft hand touches my back. “Maybe a little, but I think there’s something you want to tell, that you’re unable to say.” Daniel says, his tone gentle. His words were as sweet as cherries. “Do you want to know what that is, Daniel?” I murmur, turning towards him, the obvious height difference between us clear as I tower over this short boy. “Is it something you want to truly tell?” I think about it for a moment. It’s strange, but I want to speak to this sweet boy some more. I want to tell him everything, just to hear his sweet cherry words some more. *** It’s been three weeks. Daniel is the first person to not judge or fear or hate me. His sweet words are something that ease my pain. I want him to see more of me, so I’ve stopped taking my medications. I’ve opened up more. My antisocial personality disorder has started to feel like it’s fading. Maybe... Maybe if I were to show him my true nature, he would... Would he want me? I’m just a loner, a freak, a guy of questionable morality. I want him to see all of me, so if I continue not to take my medications, maybe I can fully reveal myself. But would he like what he sees? ***

“You’re unusually quiet today. Are you okay, Evan?” I look at him; a small smile on my face; my eyes bright for the first time. “I am better than okay. I stopped taking my medication.” “B-but, you said y-you need it! To control your u-urges!” He’s backing away. Why? Why are his eyes scared instead of curious now? “Daniel, why are you afraid of me now? You usually are so accepting. Why can’t you be happy for me, for controlling myself so well?” I grab his arm, pain filling my heart, my eyes and heart and throat throbbing. “I thought that you would be proud to call me more than a friend because of this!” “Agggh!” I hear a loud snap. I feel his arm suddenly flare up, and I look down at it. I’m holding it so tightly that it broke. “D-Daniel, I’m s-so sorry!” I’m desperately trying to hold him, but he keeps on moving away, until he starts running. I chase after him, wanting him to come to me, to stop. I want to let him know what I feel. I want to hear him some more. *** He’s standing, cowering, in the corner of the auditorium. He’s shivering as he looks at me. There is barely any light, and I swallow, looking at him. “Y-you’re such a monster!” Daniel says with tears in his eyes, fear shining. “Daniel-” “But you’re my monster. And I want to embrace that.” He walked toward me shakily, and laid his unharmed hand on my forearm. He smiles softly, and he hugs me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Do what you want with me, because I love you, and I don’t want to see you hurt anymore.” I black out. When I come to, I am standing over a pool of blood and a disfigured body. Daniel was dead. I held his mutilated body close to my chest, wanting to hold onto it while it still had some warmth to it. He was gone, and I felt a void in my heart. I would always cherish Daniel. He made my sweet adolescence better. 28

Max’s Accident Devon Holland Junior

Max licked his pale ginger underbelly as he finished grooming, his dark ginger pelt sleek and clean. As a housecat, he was familiar with the daily routines of eating, napping, and grooming, and as such, had very little to dislike about his simple life, except for the tightness of his collar. Every day was the same, in a way, and the only time he knew he wouldn’t be was when he was outside. Now, the flap in the kitchen door was unlocked, so Max slipped out of it and began to stroll towards the fence to his human’s yard when he heard a greeting meow from his left. He turned to see a plump pale brown queen sitting on the window sill, her tabby stripes like shadows in her fur, but her light blue eyes a kinder contrast to her larger, more intimidating appearance. “Hey, Max, how are you?” the queen asked sweetly. “Ah, nothing much, Betsy, I was just going to go for a walk.” Max replied. “That sounds great!” Betsy said excitedly. “Everyone else is cooped up inside today, except for Russel, but he’s kind of a jerk, but that’s pretty usual.” Max nodded, remembering that Betsy was neighbors with Russel, a huge tortoiseshell and white tom who had a mean dark orange glare and claws that he used whenever any cat came onto his territory. But that was expected, as Max knew Russel was old and had never been much of a friend to anyone. “Let’s go to the park.” Max said. “There may be some birds or something there.” “Okay!” Betsy replied, following Max as they headed in the direction of the town park where humans liked to bring food, ride machines they called “bikes”, and play weird games with their stupid dogs. But today, the park was empty, except for a few squirrels and two fat pigeons. Max looked at Betsy, and they ultimately decided to go somewhere else. The sun was setting by the time Max and Betsy went home, and by that time, they’d already done a lot of things. They’d teased the neighborhood dogs, drank cream from bottles they tipped over, and a variety of other things. Now, as they headed home, Max’s tired state of mind didn’t alert him of the machine coming their way, and Besty was the only one to escape the incoming vehicle as it slammed into the poor, tired housecat. Max never woke up. 29

Black Lives Matter James Morehead Senior

We n e v e r s a i d Blac k li ve s m atte r m o r e Wh i t e o ff i c e r s p u l l i n t h a t t r i g g e r Lik e i t s a gam e We p r o t e s t To b e h e a r d Ou r l i f e m a t t e r s Jus t a s m uc h a s y o ur s Wo u l d . . .

Storm Makia Dill Senior

Wrong place wrong time James Morehead Senior

“ Ha n d s u p , d o n ’ t s h o o t ” “ Ha n d s u p , d o n ’ t s h o o t ” Shots fire 7 year old boy gasping for air Single mom cr y ing for he lp Son lay ing in he r arms S h o t s g o n e i n d i ff e r e n t d i r e c t i o n s

Blank mind, blank ceiling. Aiden Boyd

Sophomore

There I sit mind blank. No thoughts, no feelings, just empty blankness. I lay here in my bed looking up at the ceiling, like I do many days of the week. I always feel like this, this kind of empty. I don’t know what it means. What does it tell me about myself? My mind is just always blank. Sometimes I feel a tear creep to my eyes, but I always hold it back. I’m told men don’t cry. Why can’t men cry? Why is it bad for guys to show human emotions? Girls do it all the time. But nonetheless I don’t cry. I just suck it up. No matter how hollow I feel I just hold it inside. I never want to cause anyone trouble or worry them about my problems. I would instead like to hear about their problems. Whether it’s for self gain or because I feed off negative emotions, I don’t know, but I feel less barren when people tell me their problems. No matter what, I still feel empty. I keep looking up at the ceiling. A ceiling I’ve seen going to slumber a trillions of times. I look at this ceiling never thinking, just focusing on the cracks and grooves of the dried up paint. I hear the noises come from downstairs, the sounds of brother and sister bickering at each other. This happens all the time, so I learned how to drown it out and focus on the ceiling above me. At times I go to school. I act joy full, trying to hide this kind of pain behind a porcelain mask. Friends always say “you’re so full of energy” and “you’re the nicest person I know” these compliments help a little with the emptiness. There are times when I think they don’t mean it, when I think they’re just saying it to make me feel better. Maybe they see behind the porcelain mask and are trying to fix the broken face. Still I feel empty, maybe this emptiness will change. Who knows. I hope it happens preferably soon though, I don’t like feeling this empty.

A new light Zoe McCullough Sophomore

Emotions

Colors of life 2

Inas Hskan Senior

On the left

Unthinkables Cathy Apolot Junior

There is a lot to be said of unity. We stand alone, a society of outsiders, pushed out by our own stubborn beliefs. I imagine we aren’t all the that, that we think we are. I think we are lonely And stuck, And tired. I think we live in a world of what-used-to-be’s that drown out everything that could be. When we are here, standing in the face of a monster that towers skyscraper to ant hill I wonder how far our loneliness will take us. Maybe this unity, so unreachable, maybe has to be reachable for survival’s sake. There is a lot to be said of surviving And living And unity as a necessity for survival. I imagine we may have to rethink our unthinkables.

Ghoul

Anthony States Sophomore

Sparrow’s Promise Devon Holland Junior

Two cats walked along the shoreline of the pond as they talked about life, queens, and the future. They were a pale gray and white tabby tom with a soft look and collar and a dark brown tom with amber eyes and a slightly dirty pelt. “I’m going to miss you, Oliver.” the darker tom said softly to his companion. “I will miss you, too, Sparrow.” Oliver said to his smaller friend. “But I have to go home, and you have a life to live.” “I don’t know what I’ll do without you” Sparrow murmured, before getting an idea. “How about you come and live with me in the forest?” Oliver looked like he was about to consider it, but he shook his head. “I’m sorry, my friend, but I know my housefolk are missing me. I’ve helped you with finding the truth of your mother’s death, but now I must go home. And if I didn’t, I would make my housefolks’ children sad.” “Then I’ll live with you!” Sparrow said anxiously. “I could live as a housecat and then I could stay with you.” “You wouldn’t be happy there.” Oliver shook his head. “You would miss the wild and the feel of wind on your fur. You would have to wait to go outside when the housefolk decide and eat the pellets they feed me.” “But I could deal with it! I would deal with anything for you!” Sparrow cried. Oliver nuzzled Sparrow gently, and pressed against the smaller tom. “This is for the best, Sparrow.” Oliver whispered. “But I will always think about you, because I’m grateful to you for showing me beyond what I’ve always know. I love you.” Sparrow got choked up and murmured, “I love you, too.” Oliver lapped his cheek and gave him a loving look with his dark blue eyes. Sparrow and Oliver went their separate ways, but Sparrow turned around, to get one last look at his friend’s handsome pale fur, but Oliver was gone. I promise we will meet again, and I will hope for that day, because you will always be my Oliver. Sparrow promised silently, and he turned around again and headed back towards the thick forest a while ahead, knowing that one day, he would find Oliver again, no matter how long it took or how long he waited for that day. 37

Teifling

Kira and Killer Queen

Diavolo and King Crimson Collin Lupo Junior

DIO and the World 38

They’re not what they seem Shyanne Crichton Freshman People aren’t what they seem One minute you’re as happy as the sight of a new born baby The next you’re helpless, and lonely Some people will stop and help fight off the demons Others will feed you to them, Some will stay and keep you on your feet Others will let you fall to your knees Some will be the light in your life Others will be the dark that follows it Some will be the lit candle symbolizing your life Others will be the raven symbolizing your death People aren’t what they seem

Ashins’ anathema Austin Kuhnel Freshman Ashin ones are those who are only husks of their former self. Hollow to the core, nothing more than puppets aimlessly following commands. to be encumbered with embers, comes pain and suffering, corroding them to the bounds of dementation, Only to collapse at a bonfire reciting the phrase “Today’s aberration is tomorrow’s abomination.” 39

Scatterbrain

Like a compass that only points south Like a magnet that only attracts the same pole Sarah Suhr Because unfamiliar people scare me Sophomore I have social anxiety They find it funny They call me scatterbrain But it’s not Because I can’t stick to the same topic for more They make fun of my fidgets than a few seconds But it’s all I’ve got My mind jumps back and forth like an intense To keep me calm game of ping pong I have a train of thought They call me four eyes It just moves a lot faster than yours Because I used to look through rose colored They call me moon face Cause I space out And my heads in the clouds And I drown out All the loud noise They call me chatterbox Cause I talk fast And kind of a lot But my mind is moving so quickly That if I don’t talk I’ll feel sickly I have a lot to say And if I don’t say it now It’ll build up And all pour out They call me switch up Cause of my mood swings I go from happy to sad In like 1 2 3 Seconds Go from hell to heaven Talk 24/7 Then mute Silence They think I’m a muse They’re obsessed

They call me metal mouth

glasses But now trying to find the silver lining Is like Columbus trying to find India In 1492 Sometimes I think I found it But then I don’t know what to do When I realize I’m on the completely wrong continent So I slap a label on it And pretend all is well But all is not well They call me lover boy Because love is my strongest superpower I have to love myself When no one else will But when that’s not possible anymore I channel my love into other people I focus on making the world a better place But they spit in my face

And call me dreamer They say it’s just a dream And that I won’t accomplish anything If I keep dodging reality I need to focus on taxes Not climate change I need to focus on getting a job And finding a place Not trying to save people who don’t want to be saved

They call me complicated Sure, my compass is broken Say my brain’s too complex And yeah, I’m always lost They make fun of my mind But at least I don’t always point south Say it doesn’t work right South is the way the birds go But what they mean is they don’t understand When they migrate My thinking is a little more advanced And something about the birds And I don’t mean that in a cocky way, Gives me bad vibes They just don’t understand what I’m trying to say Maybe it’s the fact that they’re government spies And that makes for some really rough days Or maybe I’m just scared to death And have no map to tell me where to go I’m not scatterbrain I just have a deeper understanding of the world I’m not four eyes So my mind has to work twice as hard I can find the silver lining To keep up with my thoughts But sometimes it’s easier not to try I’m a bullet train that’s always about to be deSometimes easier to lie in bed all day railed Sometimes it’s easier to watch my body rot and And I think I’ve finally gone off the tracks decay I feel my mind drifting away But I’m not moonface I have a list in my head I’m not lover boy Of every single thing that anyone’s ever said I don’t even know if I’ve ever been in love before I just care a lot I disassociate so sometimes I seem far away And give way too much But I promise I’m not on the moon I’m spreading myself too thin That’s too far from Earth And going places I’ve never been before scares I’m not a dreamer me Okay, maybe I am But not in the ways that you say I’m not chatterbox I don’t think you understand I know I talk too much I just have And I’m trying to not Big dreams Cause it’s annoying for other people Big things Don’t worry, Big plans It annoys me too But talking is my default and sometimes I’m not complicated I’ve got no other option to choose I’m just sick And that’s all I’ll ever be I’m not switch up Another negative statistic I just have mood swings Another number on the chart And I know you think it’s the same thing Another outlier on the graph But it’s not Honestly I’m going through a lot I’m not scatterbrain And I know that’s no excuse I’m just misunderstood But I have nothing left to lose I’m not metal mouth

Zentangle Aidan Tyburski Sophomore 42

Experience Devon Holland Junior My junior year has been something of what I’d call a bundle of experiences. It has been good, it has been loving, but it has also been painful and full of memory, good and bad. I honestly never thought I would get to truly experience happiness, and in the end, I will cherish these memories, both good and bad, as they make up what my final stretch of adolescence has been. I could probably tell you what happened to me, but if I were to tell it all, I think it would make this too long. So maybe I should reveal some of the more key moments of what I will always consider my sweeter adolescence. I was asked by a lot of people to be their boyfriend. By people who’d heard of me from friend, who had known me for years, and even that I thought hated me or didn’t even know me that well. It made me feel wanted, but each relationship felt too short when they left me because I couldn’t connect with them truly. That was until I dated her. I don’t want to say her name, but I will always cherish the memories I’ve had with her, the words she said to me as bittersweet as cherries. She always tried to make me happy, and I did the best I could to make her happy. I loved her for two years, and when we dated, I was so happy. We thought we could make it last. But in the end, I think it was my own self-loathing that made me cause the end of it. Yet the experiences are something I can cherish because they were all a first for me. My first real girlfriend, my first love, my first kiss, and my first heartbreak. But I have learned from that experience, and I have decided I have to keep living, so that I can at least try to be her friend, because that it what the most valuable relationship I can have with her. It hurts, but I think that everyone has their flaws, and that is what makes them human. I’ve seen a lot of darkness in people too this year. Their emotions were so overwhelming, their pain suffocating. I saw their wounds, their broken hearts, their love that hurt them. It made me understand that humans are all suffering, because they either feel unloved, unwanted, and lost. I realize that I can do what I can to help them, to show them my compassion and understanding, but only they can truly decide whether or not I’m a friend. I think that I have truly made some form of an impact, and I think all of this has left an impact on me. And I hope that one day I can look back at this as an adult and channel my life experiences into my future.

A Peaceful Day

Grace Christensen-Spies Junior The radio was creaky, old. Cracks in the paint and the sticky buttons showed the love the people had for the machine. It brought back memories of family gathered around it, happily listening to the news, or whatever show was on that night. The old man smiled sadly. None of that matters now. “I’m sorry it had to end this way.” The voice coming through was sad, defeated. “ None of us could have anticipated this, The only advice I can give you is to say goodbye, spend your last moments with your families. Let go of hate, find peace, and hopefully it will find you on the other side.” The radio went silent.

Red & Blue Skies

Fynn Glantz Senior

The two old men sat on the patio of an old cabin in the woods that they had found years ago. They would come here sometimes to listen to the silence that only being this far away from the city granted. The men found peace here. It almost seemed like the world was not in chaos. Cell phone lines were down, buildings were burning, anarchy had spread far and fast all across the world after the news of the atomic bombs going off all across the world went public. More powerful than anyone had ever seen. It was a final cleanse, the man in a mask said on TV, humanity had deserved this for all the evils they had committed. But there was something he did not understand. That there was beauty in humanity, in between all the crimes and killing and war there was a quiet peace that fell. Beauty in our surroundings that some never wanted to accept, never could. It was families gathered around a dinner table laughing and talking after a long day; it was young love sparked between two people; friendships that lasted a lifetime like the two men on the porch had.

It was love that kept people together all around the world, and the sheer beauty in that could never be destroyed. Not even by humanity itself. But they tried, and they tried again until this day came, the day that they would destroy everything with man-made weapons of destruction. But the memories would always be there, held onto by the few survivors, by the trees that listened to small conversations that lasted for hours. Humanity might forget that beauty, but mother nature never would. The memories of humanity will always linger as whispers of the past among nature. “Do you regret anything?” One of the old men, Dan, asked. “No.” The simple answer held power It spoke of forgiveness, in the people around him and himself. He was letting go, accepting that there was nothing that could be changed now. It was a peaceful feeling. “ I just never thought I would see this in my lifetime” Dan sighed. “Me neither, but there is nothing we can change now.” Dan put his hand on his dear friend’s shoulder “I’m glad my last moments were spent with you Sam.” Sam looked over at his aged friend who had never lost the kindness in his eyes, even with all the pain they had both endured over the years. Sam knew his friend had found peace too. It made him happy. Sam patted his friend’s hand. “Me too.” They went silent, watching the last sunset like a ticking time bomb down to the inevitable. It was beautiful. Sam smiled sadly. It was a good day to die. When Sam had first heard the news, it was heartbreaking. Everyone would die. He couldn’t bear the thought of all those lives with so much potential to be ended so soon. He couldn’t bear that no one would remember his name, there would be no one there to remember. But he had realized when he woke up on the last day that he was the only one who could remember. All the legacies and memories would soon be lost. He remembered. And he hoped if there was an afterlife, that his spirit would carry all the memories and friendships and love that had lasted his lifetime. It was how he found peace. How he was able to bear the knowledge that everyone would die and no one would remember. This day would end soon, but somehow his memories would last forever. He was sure of it. Peace was a relieving feeling to a man who had spent a lifetime without it. There was no grieving the lives that were about to be lost, there was only a quiet acceptance. Between the two men, between nature and inevitability, and that acceptance spoke volumes. It would boom louder than any bomb that was about to go off. The sun was almost set now, the end neared. Something streaked the sky, it was here. The end, sooner than they both thought. “I’ll see you on the flip side.” Sam smiled at the old saying that had been spoken between the two probably hundreds of times. Sam couldn’t think of a better thing to say in this very moment. He met Dan’s eyes one last time “ I’ll see you on-”

Subject 12 Cissel Erin Freshman

Imaginary

Micah Schlegel Freshman A friend, a friend An imaginary friend. I can not find him anywhere Is he here or there? Why can I not find him anywhere? Is he hiding somewhere? Is he there or over there? Why can I not find him anywhere? Is he over there in the other room? Or at a store looking for something? I cannot find him anywhere.

Welcome Home Devon Holland Junior Welcome home, old friend! It’s been so long! So why don’t you try and comprehend My little song? You left me behind So maybe you can understand Why I find You’re betrayal as a helpful hand To the machine that you built Without a trace of guilt Welcome home You’ve gotta see your work wilt People always said I was a joke So that is why I used to choke They saw me as a comedian But deep down I was bleeding I wish you had seen the show So you would know That for someone like you I got a lot to say too. You’re heart is dilapidated You position is exonerated Welcome home, You really should’ve have phoned.

I can’t believe you selfishly Left me permanently You made us feel the flow So now you can sit back and watch the show Of the nightmare you created And we’re elated To welcome you home You really should’ve known That this was going to come back And bite you in the sack. There’s always a price to pay For the sins you slay So when you used our blood as your ink The feelings really start to sink Because deep down we’ve always known That you would leave us in this home But now it can’t be prevented So reap what you have sown Welcome home Now you can’t let us down.

The Gingerbread Man Kaidence Bronson Freahman

Reality

Inas Hskan Senior

Fire’s Mother Korabeth Carter Freshman

I see her through the flames. Hidden behind a thick wall of red hot coals, fire licking up her sleeves. She doesn’t scream or fight or even fall. She lets it swallow her body. It burns for hours on end. We all sit waiting for her screams to cut through the silent night. The longer we sit, the more we realize a scream will not come. As the coals become embers and the fire burns no more, a figure is seen. Holding something close to herself. She releases them. They climb to her shoulders and fly above her. Dragons. We recognized them instantly. She had hatched the dragon eggs. She stood and walked across the still got bits of ground. As she walked towards me I thought, “She did not burn. Why?” Then an answer hit me. She cannot burn. The fire within her is greater than any that can be created.

On Dreaming Up A Goddess Cathy Apolot Junior

She walks with purpose. Girl of backbone stand strong. This is the woman of feminism. Say nothing for her for her voice speaks volumes No room left for bigotry. Remember black skin Tight curls Long legs Full lips Deep baritone voice vibrates to your core, how your core looks Empty next to hers.

Green Eyes Audrey Hofeling Freshman

She is every noise resting on the tongue, Every revolutionary thought at the forefront of minds. She is the wild gone woman. Raw, unaltered power Unchallenged, unshakeable Wall of wisdom.

Illuminated Audrey Hofeling Freshman

-clementine-

Aminah Suleiman Morales Freshman Roses are red and Violets are grey The reason we care’s, Cause we left her to lay Yes lay on the floor Dead inside not out But sadly for her She could not sprout Just like a flower She wilts when unkempt Her parent did nothing As she limped when she wept

Fresh Roses

Kaidence Bronson Freshman

A bottle off the shelf Twisted popped and poured As the night went on His anger up roared The loss of a mother Left empty and hollow The lack of her father Made a child of sorrow “Live I shall not” was her last line At 16 years old Died dear clementine.

Cherry Blossom Tree Sarah Cejka Sophomore

I am the color yellow, warm and sweet, yet also loud and energetic. I want to be a sea glass beach where ugly, sharp pieces of glass become smooth and beautiful. I used to be the sound of flowing water, peaceful and laid back, but now I am always worrying about everything. I would like to be a cherry blossom tree, with a natural beauty and a peacefulness about them. but I am anxious every second of everyday, always on edge. Never finding that peacefulness of a cherry blossom tree.

Jestro and Sugar Devon Holland Junior

“Okay, people, how in the actual hell did this happen?” Jestro watched as his boss, Allen McFarland, a tall, toned elf walked over to a passed out customer who was sitting with his shirt off in the booth nearest the back. McFarland glared around the room, his eyes angry and red. He must’ve been doing the drugs again Jestro self-consciously placed a hand on the feathers on his chest, which was puffed out and odd compared to his thin yet slender physique. Being a escort wasn’t all it was cracked up to be when the boss was a manipulative scumbag that you couldn’t call out, unless you wanted to get a beating. Jestro felt a lump form in his throat as McFarland strided in slow movements towards him. He knows “Jest, what the hell did you do?” McFarland’s eyes were cold, his voice trembling with rage and menace. “Sir, he grabbed me. I just put something in his drink. I didn’t want to be-” McFarland let out a snarl and grabbed Jestro by his face, squeezing it with such intensity that Jestro knew what was coming next. He gave a fearful look to his co-worker and best friend, another escort with the stage name Sugar. He’s afraid of what’s going to happen to me because he doesn’t want it to happen to him. The slap came so suddenly, burning his flesh with a blazing heat that Jestro felt sick as another strike and another came. He felt it going on until he blacked out without warning. McFarland gave a snarl and snapped, “Now someone get this fucking mess cleaned up.” He walked away. Sugar hurried towards his friend, gripping for a pulse, getting one, and steadied the unconscious, bruised avian-man onto his shoulders. I’m gonna leave this job one day, when I can pay off that cursed contract Sugar took the avian-man to his place, asking another escort known as Rosebriar to cover for him. Outside, the last thing Sugar saw before looking back was the blazing neon light sign of the service building.

Damsel’s Male Escort Services Sugar turned and didn’t look back. It was a day later, and when Jestro finally woke up, he found himself in a large, very red bed. He heard humming, and he felt at ease despite not knowing where he was. Moments later, he found the form of Sugar walking in, his elven form sleek and curvaceous, and nonetheless a pleasant sight. “Good mornin’ boo, how’d ya like my bed?” Sugar asked. “Eh, Jestro-” “It’s Micah.” Jestro interrupted softly. “What?” “You can call me Micah.” Micah said in the same voice. “I hate the stage name I have, and I hate that scumbag. But I think I like you alright.” He paused, then asked, “What’s your real name, Sugar?” “My name? It’s John.” Sugar said. “And if you’re wondering, I’m not interested in birds.” “Really?” Micah said with a flirtatious hint. “So I can’t show a little interest in the elf who let me sleep in his love boat? Isn’t that not in anyway a start to a lovely relationship.” “I barely know you outside of work.” Micah smiled seductively. “Who cares about work? We get paid to escort sleazes, so it doesn’t matter much. And,” Micah placed his hand on John’s and winked, “I really want to get to know you.” John smiled slightly, but he didn’t respond as he left the room, though, maybe if not that day, in the future, the independent elf would see him in a new way one day.

A City of Stereotypes Korabeth Carter Freshman

My world is blanketed in stereotypes. They follow me like thunder to lightning. I hear them as shouts in the street and whispers in class. They are forms of twisted views and bittered words. Ugly opinions spill from mouths like waterfalls And mix with the good in the crystalline lake below. I jump from the edges of rocks and ends of docks. The waters full of words flowing past my body Faces appearing the longer I swim Screaming at me, whispering to me, Some not even noticing. Some moving away They fill our days and scratch our weeks Pushing and pulling us in directions we didn’t think possible They leave harsh red drops on our lives As though they are the blood that runs through our veins Red covers our lives as it falls from our mouths Words hit us like daggers and are stuck like glue Red drips from them too Covering our sidewalks and streetways Spilling back into the water And inking out the sky And eventually, Everything is right back where it started Words blanketing my world In forms of blood and sweat and tears It covers my body As I bathe in the hurtful, the tearful, and the scared Sentences of all shapes and sizes and colors Fill my vision as they flow from mouths They follow me in my day And haunt my dreams at night Words from all sorts of people fill me I see them all and I feel them too.

Skies

Inas Hskan Senior

Clockwork office worker Collin Lupo Sophomore

The book of RÆNAR Prologue SLEEP INERTIA John Conroy Sophomore

Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn’t go away. For this core concept drives what we perceive as reality, and what we perceive as not. To defer from this theory is to defer from reality itself. But what we define as reality, therefore, is only what we believe in. So, wake up. Realize that your mind may control what is real, and what is not. I woke up. I was parched and covered head to toe in sweat. My head hurt like hell, and my skin felt like it was on fire. Where the hell is this place? My eyes finally focused, although it took me a minute to realize I wasn’t crazy when I saw... it. A city. A city of gold and white. Gargantuan, bright buildings barely perceivable against the... desert? Yes, a desert. It seemed to stretch out to each end of the horizon, but it wasn’t any ordinary desert. Massive, rolling dunes of fine, tan-white sand covered the Earth in a pattern like soldiers in formation. Not a single plant in sight. The only thing indicating civilization was, well, the city. And the highway. Thirty-two lanes, seeming to go from one end of the earth to the other, like the desert. The road itself was flat and seemed to stretch on perfectly straight for aeons. There were few cars if you could even call them that, save for one or two large freighters and what seemed to be a military convoy, bearing an unrecognizable flag of green and black, and colours of green, purple and Prussian blue. The technology seemed post-modern, yet not futuristic. I decided to check my person. Conveniently, I happened to have a large flask of water and a rucksack. As to where I’d acquired these items I have yet to answer, but I digress.

All I cared about was that I wasn’t going to die from dehydration or heat stroke. Heatstroke. That reminds me. How the hell is it so hot in this place? I feel like I’m going to catch fire at any minute. My best estimates put the temperature at around 155 degrees, and judging by the fact my skin is burning like hell, there is probably a very high UV index here too. I took a large drink of the water, taking care to save some of it for later on. As I started coming back to my senses, one of the military convoys suddenly pulled over beside me. All I cared about was that I wasn’t going to die from dehydration or heat stroke. I took a large drink of the water, taking care to save some of it for later on. As I started coming back to my senses, one of the military convoys suddenly pulled over beside me. I nearly pissed myself at the sight of three heavily armed personnel exiting the vehicle. They wore heavy body armour and appeared to have a small computer system inside of each of their helmets, along with five silver flanges on the tops of their helmets, making them appear like winged hussars. They wore large gas masks over their faces, and heavy audible breathing could be heard. Their dressings were coloured in a strange colour for the climate, being a dark green colour with a slight tinge of turquoise. They had a nametag of sorts with strange symbols on it, along with Latin characters, but in a language I had never seen before. Save for the soldier in the middle, they carried large assault rifles, appearing to be far more advanced than anything I’d ever seen before. The man in the middle did not bear a weapon, but rather a strange device and his uniform bore a distinct shimmer of cyan to it. They approached me. Not sure what to do and still in a slight daze, I began to walk towards them, only for the two men with weapons to draw them and aim at me, shouting in an unknown language. *This line that you’re reading right now in asterisks is a “meta” line. I use these to help explain some parts of the book that might be difficult for some to understand (e.g pronunciation, words, concepts, this very line, etc.). The book has many different languages, so these bits are here to save you the headache of trying to understand all of them. You may also refer to the Rænar dictionary for further reference.*

“Tάξειamvs!”,, the man on the left shouted. *tax-ay-am-us, Deseretinn for “Get down!”*

“ Who are you people?”, I exclaimed, nervously.

“Brετανικus?”, the man in the middle spoke. “Can you understand me?” *vri-tah-vii-koos, Deseretinn for “Britannian?”*

“ Where the hell am I?”, I asked the man, gazing at the city off in the distance as a small flying object seemed to dock on one of the large structures. “Uzmangiaial, Antyn, vis gav būtis šnipagas.”, the man on the right whispered to the man next to him. *pronounced as such, Onyx High Synarch for “Careful, Antyn, he may be a spy.” *

“ Valinn, Antanas, go. I’ll handle this.”, the man in the middle responded. “Now, tell me. Who are you, where are you from and why the hell are you out in the middle of the Estus basin without any protection?”, he shouted, seeming to get progressively more stunned, “How the hell are you still alive?” I stopped for a second. ‘ Who are you?’ isn’t the question I expected to falter me. I tried to remember my name, but my mind came up blank. I couldn’t even remember my own age, my mother, my father, nothing. What was happening? I decided to give the best answer I could, just to satisfy him. “I… don’t know?”, I uttered shallowly. “ What do you mean? How do you not know your own name?”, the man exclaimed with a mix of surprise and frustration, “. . .come with me, you probably suffered a head injury of some magnitude. Do you remember anything at all?” “Nothing. All I know is what I know, if that makes sense. What on Earth is going on?”, I express. “‘Earth’… what’s that?”, the man replied, confused. That was a question I really didn’t expect. “I- I’m sorry? You’re asking me what Earth is?”, I replied with a tinge of sarcasm and confusion. “ Yes. What is this ‘Earth’ you speak of ? Is it an island off the coast of Britannia?” “ The planet we’re standing on is Earth, why are you asking me this?” “ Talus, you’re delusional. Follow me, we’ll get you some medical assistance.”

*’ Talus’ (pronounced: tahl-us) is the name of an old warrior in the Centauri mythos. Now used similarly to how the word ‘Jesus’ is used in the English language.*

The man escorted me to the vehicle, still pulled over to the side of the road. The two other men were standing by the side of the vehicle with their gas masks off, smoking what appeared to be cigarettes. Their faces appeared scarred from years of war, but they seemed unphased. They both looked at me as I passed by into the vehicle. The man gestured at the two to follow. I stepped into the vehicle after the first man. The two of us sat on the upper “floor” of the vehicle, whereas the other two men went to the lower. The inside was utilitarian in appearance, bearing almost a steampunk aesthetic. The hull was a strong steel compound, with small viewports on each of the sides. I sat down on a metal bench bolted to the hull and looked around. A small computer sat on the other side of the room. It looked fairly old and beaten down, and appeared to have some strange black and orange web pages open on the screen. As the first man went aside to go sit down, he glanced at it and scoffed. He then walked into what appeared to be a driver’s compartment. A small argument ensued, followed by a metallic slam, and some disgruntled muttering in a language I couldn’t understand. The first man walked out with an annoyed look on his face. “Šūdisalva…”, the man muttered under his breath as he appeared to turn the computer off. *pronounced as such, a Lower Synarch insult similar to “s**t head” in the English language.*

He then walked into what appeared to be a driver’s compartment. A small argument ensued, followed by a metallic slam, and some disgruntled muttering in a language I couldn’t understand. The first man walked out with an annoyed look on his face. “Šūdisalva…”, the man muttered under his breath as he appeared to turn the computer off. *pronounced as such, a Lower Synarch insult similar to “s**t head” in the English language.* The vehicle began to move with a jerk, a clang from my head banging into the side of the vehicle, and the roar of a loud engine. As I rubbed my head in pain, I began to feel the vehicle speed up quite fast. I looked out of one of the small viewports and was astonished to see the sheer speed the vehicle was capable of. I saw the city beginning to disappear into the distance, and as the vehicle continued on, I saw virtually no communities, save for an occasional group of what appeared to be nomads of some sort, with face coverings and large robes draped over their bodies. Sunset came quicker than I’d expected. I was probably losing track of time, so I asked the man how long it’d been.

“Sixth quarter.”, the man spoke. “Sixth quarter? Like, the sixth quarter of the day?” “ Yes. Are you sure you’re alright in the head?” “Stop asking about my damn head already. Jesus, what planet did I land on to meet such weird people?” “Rænar, heh…“, he replied in a sarcastic tone. “ The hell is Rænar?”

*the word ‘Rænar’ uses a character known as a diphthong. This character has many different pronunciations, although in this text it is pronounced like ‘eye’, like in ‘ribosome’ or ‘hiding’.*

“I… you can’t be serious, right?”, the man asked, apparently confused at the question. “I am serious. This planet isn’t Rænar, this is Earth! You’re the crazy one!”, I shouted. At this point I was getting frustrated. Something wasn’t right here. Was I really just going insane? This IS Earth, right? Or am I hallucinating? What is going on? What the actual“Hold on, did you just say… ‘Earth’?”, the driver chimed in before I could finish my thought. “ Yes. Earth. The planet we’re currently on.” “I… you can’t be… you’re one of the-”. The driver was cut off by a large thump that resonated through the vehicle. Multiple gunshots were seldom heard coming from off in the distance too. The first man’s face went blank for a second, as if in intense concentration, before his eyes widened and he thrust himself out of the seat. “Nokāsleisti!”, the man in the room with me shouted frantically before turning to face me, “Get down!” A large explosion rocked the vehicle, throwing it to the side of the road violently. I was thrown out of my seat onto the metal floor, slamming my face into the corrugated-esque steel floor. My ears rang, and my head hurt like hell from the impact. The man in the vehicle with me climbed out and started barking orders at more personnel that had pulled aside to assess the damage. The sound of distant gunshots and bullets hitting the vehicles rang like a symphony. Before I could get my bearings and climb out of the bullet-ridden vehicle, another explosion from outside threw me onto my back and into one of the empty seats.

The driver had been hit by shrapnel. He was still alive, but unconscious and hyperventilating. He was slumped onto the dashboard, his jaw hanging unnaturally below his face. A bullet appeared to have barely grazed his neck, but no bleeding was visible. His skull was bloody, probably from slamming into the dash or the windshield due to the explosion. As I was finally about to exit the vehicle and assess the damage, over choking and coughing on blood, and over a broken jaw, he spoke: “...g-get out of this place… you have to speak with… Vasov.”, he spoke through staggered breathing, “Onyx. Go… s o u t h…” He took his last breath, and fell silent.

The Amogus Rap William Cole Junior [INTRO] It’s Amogus time It’s Amogus time (yuh) It’s Amogus time It’s Amogus time (yeah) It’s Amogus time (yuh) It’s Amogus time (sus) It’s Amogus time I am sus Amogus time (yeah, yeah) You are sus Amogus time (yeah, yeah) Your mom is sus (Among Us sus) Your dad is sus (sus) (yeah) (yeah) (yuh, yuh, yuh, sus) Among Us Among Us Big Chungus Amogus Amogus time (yeah) [VERSE ONE] I’m the Master of Sus The Baron of Cringe I got hit by a bus My grade an A+ (bruh) I’m better than your mom You can’t afford lamp oil, rope, or bomb (bababooey)

I’m the best at Among Us You suck at Among Us I always win at Among Us You suck (bruh) You always get voted off on round one I’ll tear you apart like I’m Atilla the Hun You’re done (toast) You’re dead (bruh) You have a brain tumor inside of your head (sus) [CHORUS] I am Among Us (bruh) You are just Sus (bruh) You are so bad it’s considered a crime In seventeen states It’s Amogus time It’s Amogus time It’s Amogus time It’s Amogus time (bruh) It’s Amogus time (yeah)

It’s Amogus time (sus) It’s Amogus time (yuh) It’s Amogus time (sus) It’s Amogus time (bababooey) Among Us Among Us Among Us Among Us Among Us Among Us Among Us Among Us Among Us Among Us (bruh) Among Us Among Us Among Us Among Us (yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh) (booey) (bababooey) (ba) (bababooey) Sus You’re sus You’re mother sucks at Among Us [VERSE TWO] I play Among Us on the Nintendo Switch every day It’s the best game that I’ve ever played It’s better than Mario it’s better than Joker Persona 5 My best friend’s name is Clive He died Just this last week It really messed me up I cried just like when I lose at Among Us Which I never do I modeled my house after The Skeld I named my own son Redbus Amongus I once played a game other than Among Us I died But I just respawned I’m a qualified gamer A certified deadly weapon If I saw Herobrine I would call my friend Kevin [FINAL VERSE] I’m the chairman of my school’s Among Us club I’m surrounded by haters who always unsub But I know that if nobody got me Red trash can that look like Among Us got me When I play Among Us I always get impostor I’ve beaten in battle the entire Smash Ultimate roster I’m preaching Among Us all of the time They call me The Accoster I won twelve Oscars (bababooey) I ate my Grammy as a flex I own a t-rex I once burnt down an entire apartment complex As a joke Nobody died though it was abandoned But a seven year-old walking her dog got second-hand smoke She was broke I been tried in countless courts of law The charges: swag My bail: more swag Please read Chainsaw Man by Tatsuki Fujimoto

Goose Billy Walters Senior

“Are you ready?” “You know it, buddy. I guess there’s no point in stalling anymore.” Two young men, high school students, sat on the curb in the parking lot of a worn-down apartment complex, in the dead of night. The first one Stu, tall and bulky, with arms like stones and a very generic hairstyle, looking like his mother groomed for him in the bathroom. The other, Lars, was quite the opposite. He was scraggly, with an angular face and long dirty-blond hair, with a part in the middle. He always wore a black Nirvana hoodie, one a past girlfriend had given to him. Stu stood up off the curb, and began walking towards the gas station behind the apartment complex they were camped at. “Hey, Stu” “Yeah?” he said as he turned his head around. “Get some more cigarettes too.” said Lars. “We’re almost out.” “Already on it.” Stew continued walking towards the gas station. Lars pulled out the pack of cigarettes, there were only three left, with almost a whole cigarette’s worth of tobacco at the bottom. They were home rolled, and Lars always rolled them loose, as he liked the harsher feeling in his throat. He lit one of them, and only a few minutes had passed before he was forced to ditch it. Stu came running out from around the gas station. As soon as Lars saw him, it was like a spear pierced through his stomach. He got up and instantly began running towards the alley, looking back every couple seconds to make sure Stu was still on his tail. They ran until they reached St. Mark’s, the church a couple blocks down the alley. As he started to approach the hedge that led to the parking lot, he took a huge leap a few strides ahead to ensure he wouldn’t clip the top on his way over. Out of breath, Lars stopped on the curb and sat down as he looked at the top of the hedge, waiting for Stu to appear. A few too many seconds went by before he started to worry. Maybe the cops found him, he thought to himself, though he hadn’t heard anything. He stood up as he struggled to breathe quietly, and looked over the bush to see an empty dark alley. “I was not gonna jump over that shit.” He turned around to see Stu, panting frantically and holding a handle of Grey Goose, the smoothest vodka a man could get his hands on. “Found a shortcut?” asked Lars.

“No, I just really didn’t wanna jump over that.” Stu said as he sat the bottle down on the ground, with his hands shaking in anxiety. “Give me a cigarette before I start crying or something.” said Stu, with as much of a shake in his voice as in his hands. Lars threw him one, the second to last in the pack. “Do you ever think if any of this is even worth it, going on run?” Lars asked Stu. “You’re asking me?” Stu replied, as if to suggest Lars was wrong for even asking. “Honestly though, why did we decide to leave?” Stu cracked open the bottle and took a pull. “To get away, I guess.” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Away from what? Trouble? Cause if that’s the case it seems it all just followed us.” he said. “I don’t know Lars.” “Are we looking for some kind of answer? The answer to all our problems?” “Well, sometimes there isn’t an answer, friend.” Lars snickered and rolled his eyes. “And we’ll drink to that.” he said as Stu punched him in the arm with the bottle clinched in his fist. Lars grabbed the bottle in his hand and took a drink. “Heard from Stan lately?” asked Lars. “Not since last week. Heard he’s messing around with Amara again.” Stan and Amara were good friends of the two. Stu was friends with Stan since they were children, and Amara they had met at school. “Doesn’t surprise me.” said Lars. “They make a good couple. Always making out in the halls and buying each other shit. Sometimes seems like it’s the only thing I’m missing in life.” “It’s sweet Lars. It feels good to see her happy.” “Why’s that?” “She saved our lives, don’t you remember?” “Oh yeah! How could I forget.” Amara became close to the trio when a deal went bad. She rode along with them in Stan’s car, a shitty Saturn, ‘04 VUE. She sat in the back left, behind Stan and on the left of Stu. She clinched a 9 in her hand, and when the other car pulled up and pointed the tool at Stan, she didn’t hesitate to make her move. That moment bound the four together, they were inseparable. So when someone committed unspeakable acts against her, they made it a priority to attain revenge. “Still have to find that guy, the one who raped her.” said Stu. “That will give us something to do at least.”

“That will give us something to do at least.” “More than something to do.” he said. “He’ll get what’s coming to him.” Stu took a drink from the bottle and passed it to Lars, then he took a drink. “What was his name again?” asked Lars. “It was Devin Tr. . .” Stu paused in his answer as he looked in the distance, towards the sidewalk next to the church. His eyes slowly squinted, and Lars turned his head and spotted three young men, about his size. Two of them wore plain black hoodies, and the one in the middle wore a bright green one.

“I know that hoodie.” Stu said with anger in his tone. “Just what I was thinking.” It was Devin. Both men stood up off the curb, with the gallon bottle, which was full, except for what the two had already drunk. They started walking towards the guys. “Hey!” Stu yelled at them. “Which one of you is gonna be the first to eat concrete?” “Oh look who’s talkin’ shit boys.” the kid in the green hoodie said. “What’s the beef, fat boy?” “You know what you did Devin.” Lars said. “I do a lot of things, so what’s the beef?” “Amara,” said Stu. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” the three started laughing hysterically. Devin said with a smile, “You don’t wanna press this issue, Stu.” “Well I’m pressing the issue.” “Alright put ‘em up then fat bo-” Before he could even finish, Stu swung the bottle over his head, smashing it on Devin’s head as he fell to the ground. Blood started spilling out of his unconscious body while the other two squared up. They both charged at Stu, giving Lars no attention. They both swung upwards of ten times before landing a shot, as Stu was too fast. The first punch that hit him did zero damage. Lars walked backwards with the brawl, and Stu clocked the first kid, knocking him to his ass. He grabbed the second by the collar of his hoodie, and threw him over his back and slammed him to the ground. Elbow after elbow rained on his head until blood started to gush so hard that it covered his face. The other one stood up and smacked Stu in the ear from above. Stu let off and walked slowly towards him, he cracked him so hard you could hear it from a mile away, and he fell unconscious. “We should get the hell out of here.” Lars said. At that moment, they both stood still, and looked down the street. The red and blue lights, which they feared so much, flashed as they looked each other in the eyes and said, “Shit.”

Staff

Klee Hamelin

Korabeth Carter

Kaley Reda (Advisor)

Cassie Nielsen

Inas Hskan

Claressa Yoakum

D’ Kota Thomas

Thank you to our families, LNE Art and English teachers, Cusodians, the Media Center staff, Principal Keri Applebee and all the students who submitted work. Submit to the 2021-2022 issue!

• Use jumpcode YNOI • Go to https://lps.org/go/YNOI • Email Ms. Reda at kreda@lps.org

Index Aldrich, Alexis - 16 Apolot, Cathy - 36, 52 Boyd, Aiden- 32 Bronson, Kaidence - 9, 10, 49, 53 Carter, Korabeth - 7, 51, 56 Cejka, Sarah- 53 Christensen-Spies, Grace - 44 Cissell, Erin - 47 Cole, William - 64 Conroy, John - 58 Crichton, Shyanne - 39 Darweesh, Humoom - 10 Dill, Makia - 30 Glantz, Fynn - 44 Hamelin, Klee -17 Henrichs, Vedah - 19 Hofeling, Audrey - 52 Holland, Devon - 06, 23, 27, 29, 37, 43, 48, 54 Hskan, Inas - 34, 35, 50, 56 Kuhnel, Austin - 39 Kyaw, Sa - 08 Lupo, Collin - 20, 25, 26, 38, 57 Mace, Caitlin - 19 McCullough, Zoe- 33 Montez, Monica -24 Morehead, James - 30, 31 Saleh, Avan - 08 Schlegel, Micah - 47 States, Anthony - 36 Suhr, Sarah - 40 Suleiman Morales, Aminah - 53 Thomas, D’ Kota - 21 Topil, Trista - 18 Tyburski, Aidan - 42 Walters, Billy - 65 Warburton, Jordyn - 18 Wedding, Addison - 16