Volume XII
Sping 2026
Kaleidoscope MIAMI COUNTRY DAY SCHOOL MIDDLE SCHOOL LITERARY ARTS MAGAZINE
EDITOR’S NOTE It is a true joy to bring you this year’s edition of Kaleidoscope, our middle school literary arts magazine. Throughout this collection, the hard work, talent, and creativity of our students shine through in both the written word and artistic expression. Their passions and interests are thoughtfully showcased, with the hope of inspiring you to see the world through new perspectives and to appreciate the power of student voices. This magazine features original short stories, poetry, memoirs, and art pieces from across all grade levels in our middle school. With contributions from the Creative Writing class, English department, Arts department, Nativos, French, STEM, and independent personal projects, this publication seeks to give students the confidence to share their ideas, take creative risks, and recognize the value of their own voices. A special thank you to all the teachers who supported and guided students throughout this creative process and helped me put this magazine together. Kaleidoscope is more than a collection of work; it is a celebration of imagination, diversity, and self-expression. Each page reflects the unique experiences and perspectives of our students, reminding us that when given the opportunity, their voices can inform, move, and inspire. We hope you enjoy this year’s edition as much as we have enjoyed bringing it to life. Cassandra Chin (Faculty Sponsor)
DYLAN CARING ‘30
Table of Contents
01. SHORT STORIES 02. POETRY 03. MEMOIRS ENKI THEOBALD ‘30 FRANKIE KLEINBERGER ‘31
VALENTINA CHULLMIR ‘31
MOSS MANES ‘32
LENNOX GORDON ‘30
LÉON NEGRETE ‘30
Upcoming...
Short Stories SUNNERY SIDMAN ‘30
VALERIA CHAVEZ ‘32
CROSS GEBIA ‘30
AVERY CULLEY ‘31
LEIGHTON LUSTBADER ‘30
SALO ABBO ‘32
ALEXANDER BOJNANSKY ‘ 30
TOBI PASTOR ‘30
THE GIRL Melissa Fridman ‘31 It was another great day for Holly. As she strutted into the room, her curls bouncing on her shoulders as she made her way to her light wood desk, her arms filled to the brim with her notebooks with exotic decorations all over the covers. As she sat down with her nose stuck up, she was gloating about the teacher announcing that she had yet again gotten the highest grade in the class. As always, Mr. Michelson stood up and announced, with his booming voice, that the highest grade in the class highlighted the person's impressive academic record. Holly stared at the young boy sitting next to her and whispered with her hissy voice in a snakelike tone, “Looks like I got the highest again. What a surprise,” she added sarcastically with a smirk. Mr.Michelson overheard her whispered gloats and said, “Actually, the highest grade was our new student, Mona!” Holly's jaw slacked, and her fists curled up. “What do you mean I didn't get the highest grade?” She added, “Who even is this girl?!” Everyone was now staring at Mona, who sat in the dusty corner, her pin-straight blonde hair covering her face. Holly noticed her silhouette was lost in the seemingly endless bustle of fabric that was her clothes. Mr.Michelson booms,” You might have to step up your game, Holly.” Holly stormed out of the classroom and went home. She slammed the door, sending the thick layer of dust that coats the floor flying. She got on her laptop and began searching the directory, but there was no one named Mona. She called her friends, and no one had ever heard of Mona before today. No matter how many hours Holly sat in her smooth leather chair, researching deeply, she couldn't find the girl. The next few days, building up to Christmas Break, were strange. Mona seemingly disappeared during lunch and was getting perfect scores in every class. Whenever Holly tried to talk to her, she would hurry away and wouldn't be seen again for the rest of the day. Holly's grades began to drop dramatically, and somehow the girl seemed to only get more mysterious. One stormy day, Holly decided to follow her. Rain slapped the windows, and flashes of lightning lit up the jagged silhouettes of the trees. Hiding behind her halfbroken umbrella, Holly watched Mona walk out, hunched down and moving sluggishly. All of a sudden, there was a blinding flash of lightning, and when it stopped, Mona was gone. The next weekend, Holly went out biking around her small town, barely marked on the map, when she realized she knew everyone from every house. “Where could Mona live?” She thought to herself,” The nearest town is hours from here.” As the mystery went on, so did school, and after a few days, everything seemed almost normal. One day after a particularly easy test, which Mona didn't take as she was out sick for the first time, Holly held her head up high, waiting for Mr.Michelson to announce for the first time in weeks that she’d gotten the highest grade. He stood up, and suddenly it was like the whole world was holding its breath. But then it happened, he announced with his booming voice, looks like once again Mona has gotten the highest grade. Holly’s jaw hit the ground, and her blood ran cold. She demanded, “ She isn't even here, how could she have gotten the highest grade?” From the corner of her eye, she saw Mona, who somehow snuck in, smirking. Holly had had enough. She stormed over to Mona and yelled, “How do you do it? You didn't even take the test. How are you beating me in everything?” Silence followed, a few tense seconds where time seemed to drag by and passed with still no response from Mona. Suddenly, before her better judgment could stand a chance, Holly's fist clenched, and she sent a punch soaring towards the mysterious girl who had ruined her reputation and grades.
THE GIRL Melissa Fridman ‘31 Her fist hit Mona, but there was something strange; her arm passed through where her face should have been, like a knife through butter, and suddenly she was gone. Mr. Michelson coughed into his fist and grunted, “Holly, would you care to sit back down?” I assure you there's nothing on the wall. She blinked twice and realized Mona was no longer there, and there was no trace that she had ever been. In the following days, no one mentioned Mona; her friends had no memory of her after repeated questioning. She was in complete and utter shock. She walked around the hallways with her head in the clouds. If she got a good grade, it would just bring her mind to Mona. Her friends were confused by the fact that Holly didn't jump at every opportunity to criticize someone's grade. Since she was now more approachable, she even found herself giving after-school tutoring. People became more friendly toward her as they no longer felt intimidated by her constant gloating and bragging. Christmas break neared closer and closer, and still no sign of Mona. Holly was still perplexed most of the time, but definitely happier as she realized that being kinder was much better than getting the best grades and gloating about it.
It was the last day until Christmas break, and Holly was excited. Her grades were excelling more than ever, and her friends were warmer towards her. As they were celebrating the holiday season together, a young boy walked up to her and tapped her lightly on her shoulder. “Excuse me, could you help me with my worksheet?” Holly cracked a smile and exclaimed, “Of course! After school, I’ll get my books and help you.” She turned back around to see her friends slack-jawed. One of them said, “You're actually helping him, what if he gets higher grades than you?” Holly just shrugged, “Yeah, I guess it doesn't really matter anymore.” As the day ended, she walked home to get her books, and her heart sank. She looked over to her side and saw Mona, who had disappeared completely from her life for the past week. Mona opened her mouth, and she hears her whispering faintly, “You're welcome.” Then she disappeared once again. At first, Holly was confused, but as time went on, she began to understand Mona’s message. Before Mona, she was hated and feared, but most of all, she was a bad person. She would gloat and be rude to anyone who approached her. But after Mona, she realized grades aren't the most important thing. Also, her friends were more welcoming, and her classmates' blood didn't run cold if they saw her across the hall. Holly now realized how important it is to stay humble and not to gloat. For the first time, she was grateful to the mysterious girl who she thought had ruined her, but had actually been the greatest thing that could happen to her.
JORDAN SHARA ‘30
THE PETS ARE GONE Jaycee Cohen ‘31 I woke up and did my normal routine. I got up, brushed my teeth, did my hair, and was feeling ready for my job interview. I live in a very small town with old local shops and near the water. I was planning to be the first person in my family to get a job at 18. College was out of the question, so my goal was to get a job. All my family was gone, except one small furry creature. My beloved dog Bobby. I said goodbye to Bobby and set off. I looked out the window at my favorite town, with the waves going, the people walking their pets, and the loud sound of the ferry going by. I pulled into the parking spot of the small local cafe at the end of Beker Street. When I tell you everyone goes to this cafe, EVERYONE goes to this cafe. Before I got out of my car, I rehearsed what I would say. The job was marketing for a small skincare brand. I had dreamed of doing this ever since I got into makeup as a kid. “My name is Lauren Hellstern, nice to meet you. ” I repeated a million times before I got out of my car and walked into the place where I would get my first job. Right when I opened the door, I smelled the fresh scent of coffee beans, I felt warm like Christmas day, and I saw the woman I would be talking to about my dream job. I walked over and greeted her. “I’m Emily Myers,” she exclaimed. I began to look her up and down. Her luxurious blonde hair, her tall, skinny structure. She looked young, but knew what she was here for. We sat down, and she told me a little about herself. She got her first internship at exactly my age, doing exactly what I was getting interviewed for. She said she was new to town and that she and her husband were getting used to the small town rather than a big city. She went on and on about how badly she wanted a dog, but her husband was allergic. But I noticed while she was talking about this, the look in her eyes. It was like there was a fiery motive in her. She continued the interview, asking about my love for marketing and beauty. But all I could think about was the look in her eyes. I tried my best to get it out of my head, and gradually it did. I explained to her that I loved beauty on TikTok and that my mom went to school for it. I was planning to study marketing in college, but it didn’t work out. We chatted about this topic for a little while, and she said she got everything she was looking for and would follow up with me later that week. But before I shook her hand goodbye, she asked me, “ Do you have a dog? ” I explained I did, but attempted to get off the topic. She asked me to write my address on a piece of paper so she could send me letters. I did, and said goodbye. Later that night, I got ready for bed, said goodnight to Bobby as he slept downstairs, and drifted to sleep like a baby getting tucked into bed. I got into bed and fell asleep shortly after. Suddenly, I heard a loud noise of glass shattering downstairs! I checked my clock and saw the time. 3 am! I rushed downstairs to find the window shattered and Bobby gone. I rushed up and down and all through my house to look for him. Did he run away? Did someone take him? But just then, I went outside and saw everyone frantically looking for their missing pets. “ Where did he go? ” Someone screamed! Everyone had lost their beloved furry pets. The next day, the whole town was different. Without all the pets, nobody knew what to do with their time. Everyone was on a mission to find out who or what took our pets. Including me. The only person I had in mind was Emily. All the answers pointed to her. The fiery look in her eyes, the constant talking about animals. It all pointed to her. Emily Myers. I had some other people in mind as well. Donna Smith. My best friend since the third grade. She has always wanted any kind of pet, but she didn’t creep me out about it as Emily did. My mom was in real estate, so I started my investigation there. Emily claimed she just moved in about a week ago. So I had my mom find a house that sold about a week ago.
THE PETS ARE GONE Jaycee Cohen ‘31 One showed up, and I started my investigation there. Once I got there, the house was creepy. The vines wrapped around it, the chained-up door, and the boarded-up windows. Once again, it all pointed to Emily. I began walking up to the front door. The closer I got, the more it smelled like disgust. The smells were horrendous. But honestly, if she had the whole town's pets there, it would smell like that. I continued walking up to the door, holding my nose, and began knocking. No answer. I walked away and sat with my own thoughts as I drove back home. I opened the door to my home and began to get ready for bed. As I got into bed, I heard weird noises above me. Not very loud noises, but it sounded like a lot of this noise. I thought nothing of it, since my mom is downstairs and drifted off to sleep. I woke up the next day and had a new person to investigate. My best friend Donna. I called her wanting to hang out, and she agreed right away. “She took the bait,” I exclaimed! We went to the local cafe and caught up for a little while, then I said it. “Isn’t this pet disappearance act so crazy? Yea crazy..” She stuttered. Weird, I thought in my head. I drifted off topic and stopped talking about it. When I got home, I started taking notes on these people. Now I was stumped because everything pointed to Emily, but Donna was acting suspicious as well. It was another ordinary day in town, but with our pets still missing. But little did the town know, this was the day I would find out who did all this. I woke up and kept hearing this noise above me; now it was starting to scare me. I decided to see what was going on in the attic. I walked up the steps and opened the door to a zoo. I saw everyone's pets in my tiny attic in my ordinary house. I gasped. Who would do this? It had to be my mom. But why! I took a look around the room at these pets that looked starved, distressed, and smelly. I ran downstairs to confront my mom. I explained what I saw, and the look on her face. I will never forget the look. She almost looked relieved. “ Are you going to say anything? ” She said no and told me to get in the car, and I would find out why she would do such a thing. We pulled into a parking lot, and we got out of the car. As I walked in, everyone began to greet my mom. I was extremely confused at this point. We walked into an office, and she told me to sit. She said, “This is a building where everyone works for the government in some way or another.” I was in disbelief. “But you don't work for the government!” She said she does, and the disappearance of pets was a test from the government. She explained how the government was doing this to every small town, to see the people's reaction to losing a loved one. “There is someone dropping all the pets back off right now anonymously like they were never taken,” she said. If you ever speak a word of this ever again, you will be punished, and not only by me. We drove home, and the town was back to normal, with everyone enjoying their pets' return home. This case was never spoken about ever again.
MIRABELLE LANGER ‘31
THE REPEATING DAY Selah Puritz ‘31 BEEP BEEP BEEP. Alice’s alarm blared at 9 a.m. on a Saturday. Groggily, she opened her eyes and wondered, Why is my alarm going off on a Saturday? She didn’t have school and usually loved sleeping in on weekends. Just as she was about to drift back to sleep, a sudden thought struck her - today was the day her favorite bakery was launching their new summer treat: strawberry lemon angel cake! She shot out of bed, quickly got ready, and dashed out the door. Deciding to cut through the park, she felt the crisp morning air and listened to the birds chirp. But then, as she started running through the park, all of a sudden, she felt a feeling of confusion wash over her. As she arrived at the bakery, she saw no advertisements for the new summer cake! She thought that was kind of odd, but decided to go in anyway. When she entered, she could smell the sweet scents of treats and went over to order the cake. As she ordered, the cashier's smile faded into pure confusion “Our summer cakes are coming out tomorrow, Saturday.” Alice didn’t know how to react. Her mind went blank. “It was Friday yesterday, which means it should be Saturday today,” she wondered. Suddenly, her phone buzzed. It was a call from her friend, Ellie. “Where are you? Class is about to start!” Ellie said. Alice could hear her classmates babbling in the background and was wondering why they were all at school on a Saturday. Alice rushed back to her house and grabbed her stuff. Thoughts were rushing through her mind, “Is it really Saturday or not? What's happening? Is it a dream? Did I go back in time?” She thought she was going crazy because she had already lived through Friday! She hastily checked her phone for an answer. She looked at the date, and there it was, Friday! Her friend called her to come to school; her alarm went off; the cake was coming out tomorrow; and the phone said it was Friday! The puzzle pieces began to come together. Her mind raced as she rushed to school. School went just like it had yesterday, which, in Alice's mind, was yesterday! After school, she felt like she was going crazy. She had predicted her whole day of school since she had already lived it! Suddenly, she woke up! She took a deep breath and relaxed, she was beyond relieved it was a dream. That was when she heard it, BEEP BEEP BEEP! She abruptly grabbed her phone from the bedside table and turned off her alarm. She checked the date, and it was Friday…all over again.
INDIANA MYERS ‘31
MIA GRANADO ‘30
STRAWBERRY ANGEL LEMON CAKE Jamie Zananiri ‘31 BEEP BEEP BEEP. Geneva’s alarm blared at 9 a.m. on a Saturday. Groggily, she opened her eyes and wondered, Why is my alarm going off on a Saturday? She didn’t have school and usually loved sleeping in on weekends. Just as she was about to drift back to sleep, a sudden thought struck her - today was the day her favorite bakery was launching their new summer treat: strawberry lemon angel cake! Geneva would die to eat the strawberry lemon angel cake. Geneva rushed over to the bakery and saw the shop. But hundreds of people were trying to break into the store. People weren't allowed in the shop because there were too many people. Everyone wanted the strawberry lemon angel cake. People were pushing each other, and Geneva didn't know what to do. It was like a battlefield out there. But then, somebody screamed, " Listen to me! You will not get the strawberry lemon angel cake if you keep acting like this!" The man turned out to be the owner. Everyone obeyed by patiently waiting in line. After what felt like forever, Geneva got her strawberry lemon angel cake. “Yum!” As she ate her cake happily, all of a sudden, a sixty-seven-year-old man grabbed the cake out of her hand. "Sir, why!" she cried. " It's mine now!" he yelled, sprinting down the street. Geneva chased down the man and tackled him to the ground. Geneva got her strawberry lemon angel cake back, but then, a cop saw what happened. "No, please," Geneva cried as she got carried down to the station. The officer said Geneva had to spend two nights in jail. The next day, the story hit headlines, "17-year-old girl tackles an old man for cake." After the two nights in jail, Geneva heard the strawberry lemon angel cake had been discontinued because of the story. Now the entire town wanted to never see Geneva's face again. To this very day, the legend of Geneva continues.
ARDAVON ALEYASIN ‘32
LEVI LUSTIGMAN ‘32
KAI BLITTNER ‘31
ASHRA HUNT ‘30
THE DREAM OF BASKETBALL Demir Bahadir ‘32 Rosevelt is switching schools, and she is nervous! She had moved to America from México and thought that was the end of adapting to a new environment. But now she has to adjust to a whole different school. The campus is also huge, from what she saw in the pictures. The first day is here, and Rosevelt has been dreading it. She had been counting the days until school started. Slowly, she got up with her jade green eyes as heavy as stone, and her blonde sunshine hair was as messy as a bush in the wind. She ate her breakfast even though she did not want to eat it at six in the morning! Rosevelt got dressed and walked out of that door, the first of many more to come. Luckily, the school was very close. She started walking alone because her parents thought she was too old to walk with her. It was a very short walk, and the day was perfect. The wind was a breeze, the flowers seemed amazing, and the grass was cut perfectly. But sadly, her best friends from her old school, Emma and Sophia, were in different classes. When she got to the class, she got a bit better. Her heart rate was slower, and her breath was under control. The first day went well; she did a lot of good deeds, like picking up things people dropped and passing out the notebooks. Rosevelt loved basketball, and her dad was a professional basketball player who played for a living! So when she heard that the school had a very good basketball team, she immediately signed up for tryouts. The practice was very important because it allowed the coach to get to know the players and determine whether they were good enough to join the team. Rosevelt was getting the feeling you get when you feel like there are butterflies in your stomach, and her hands were trembling. Rosevelt thought she was going to make a mistake, and she could not get this thought out of her head. But she got past it and played her best. She does not know whether she made the team. A few days later, a message came in saying that she made the team and they are glad she is able to play for them. However, in addition to basketball Rosevelt has a bunch on her mind. She has to wake up at 5:30 for a run, sprint to school to avoid being late, and then have a very busy day at school. Then she has to run to the school gym for practice. This schedule is on repeat, and over time, it takes a toll on her health. She tries not to fall asleep in class, and her friends Emma and Sophia are getting angry because Rosevelt can not see them because of this very busy schedule. Her parents ask her if she wants to continue this busy schedule. They ask this question so many times that it makes Rosevelt angry. “I love basketball, and I will not give it up because I am a bit tired.” “But, honey, you come home from school looking like a zombie. “ I do not care, basketball is my only love.” With time, Rosevelt adapted to the schedule a bit, but that does not mean she still does not take ten minutes to get out of bed. When Rosevelt’s dad told her that the first tournament was in a week, she started to freak out! Her grades dropped for the week, and she was crying from anxiety every day after school. Her eyes were as red as ripe tomatoes, and her fear of failing to make herself proud was as high as an airplane. Her teachers asked what was wrong, and her friends were getting scared, thinking something had gotten into their best friend. She reassured them that everything was fine, but deep inside, nothing was.
THE DREAM OF BASKETBALL Demir Bahadir ‘32 The start of the tournament was here, and Rosevelt could not sleep at all. Throughout the tournament, the team played really well. The team was in a great spirit after winning the first three games. But Rosevelt was not. She was inside her head more than she would be in math class, and that says a lot because Roosevelt hates math. The game is here, and Rosevelt is not feeling good. Her head hurts, and her knees feel weak. But her passion for basketball took over, and Rosevelt said nothing to no one about how she was feeling. She decided to play, even though it probably wasn't the right choice. The game was very intense, with both coaches yelling, players committing dirty fouls, and parents yelling like it was the NBA. The final shot came to Rosevelt after a very nice pass of the ball. When the ball came to her, it was like everything was in slow motion. Rosevelt took a very deep breath and shot the ball. It was like the ball was never going to go in. After what felt like a year Rosevelt watched the ball hit the rim and miss. She stood there watching the other team celebrate and hug their parents. After a few minutes, she turned around and saw her dad looking very proud. She hugged her dad and started sobbing in his shirt. Roosevelt was expecting her dad to be mad, but her dad was never happier. Her dad explained to her that she played amazingly and how, with so many obstacles, she persevered. After a moment to relax, she realized that after all that anxiety and stress, she kept pushing. When she got home, Rosevelt rethought everything she had stressed about. She went to sleep with a goal in mind. She wanted to be more balanced and pay attention to everything. She wants to be a better friend, attend office hours to catch up on her grades, and become a better person overall. She wants to do all of this, of course, without getting overwhelmed and stressed. After a very long and enjoyable Christmas break, Rosevelt continued to work hard, this time with no anxiety. She had finally gotten past her game anxiety before every single game. Now she is able to be a good friend, have amazing grades, and have stable health. She felt like a horse that was finally able to run freely. Now she is ready to play!
LYSANDER WATERFIELD ‘31
ROMEO CUNHA ‘30
EVER BERGMAN ‘32
WHO DUNNIT Omar Habour ‘31 As the last bell rang, school students started to pile out, leaving only a few teachers grading extracurricular activities. As Ms. Chin walked back to her classroom to grade, she realized she had misplaced one of her students' manuscripts and tried to remember where she had left it, retracing her steps in her head. Realizing she probably left it in the CFA, she went back to retrieve it. As she looked for it, she bumped into Ms. Lin, who asked, “How is your class going?” Ms. Lin expressed her love for books and creative writing. Ms. Chin noticed how heavy Ms. Lin's art bag looked, probably filled with art supplies. As Ms. Chin said goodbye to Ms. Lin, she went outside the music room to see where she had left the manuscript. When she went inside the music room to ask Mr. O'Connor if he had seen anyone take her manuscript, she realized he wasn't alone… he was with Ms. Patel. Ms. Patel claimed she just arrived at the music room and, a minute ago, was running a science experiment with her student. Ms.Chin asked the two teachers if they had seen her manuscript. Mr. O'Connor said no; however, he had heard strange footsteps earlier. Just then, like a gust of wind, Ms. Chin noticed Coach Ramirez doing laps around the CFA in a hasty manner. Which was odd because his office was across the school. Ms. Chin felt stumped and decided to check the security cameras. As she left the CFA, she noticed a white coat draped over one of the chairs. On the way to the security room, she bumped into Mr. Harper, who started complaining about having to stay late to grade student assignments. He started going on a tangent about how students always leave things everywhere, and he is constantly cleaning up after them. He started to say, "I found a trail of glitter outside the music room”. Before Ms. Chin could ask if he had seen her manuscript, he abruptly stopped the conversation and left. Finally, after arriving at the security room, Ms. Chin found a half-eaten protein bar on the floor. Ms. Chin analyzed the protein bar and thought, “Who would eat a protein bar if they weren't working out?” Ms. Chin felt stumped and decided to give up and tackle this problem tomorrow. She went back to her classroom to grade, and saw the manuscript on her desk, a little crumbled up, like it's been flipped through. Ms. Chin decided to retrace her steps and returned to speak with the first person she had spoken with. “Hello, Ms. Lin, any updates on yesterday?” Ms. Lin said, “No, not at all, good luck!” As Ms. Chin walked away, she realized that there was red paint on the manuscript, but not from Ms. Lin at all. It was the same shade of paint Ms. Chin had on her own hands the day before, the same paint she’d used when she secretly took the manuscript, flipped through it, and smeared the edges herself. And as she tucked the pages under her arm with a calm smile, she knew no one would ever suspect that the person who caused all the chaos… was her.
AMALIA ORTIZ ‘32
SHILOH ARCHAMBAULT-TIGER ‘31
STOPPING TIME Gabriella Sabach ‘31 It started off normally: kids going to school, parents going to work, and then everything changed. No one realized at first, but then they began to hear the ticking of a clock bulging through their head. The noise grew throughout the day. It was Southern California, what could happen? That’s what was going through my mind, that one Sunday morning… The day began as it should: I ate breakfast and went to school, but it was that night, at 9 pm, that I heard the ticking of a clock. Tick Tick Tick like the sound of a creepy lullaby putting me to sleep. I didn’t think anything of it at first, but then the next morning, I found out my neighbor's kid had mysteriously gone missing. My mom kept telling me everything was fine: “She probably just got lost in the woods, or went to her friend's house,” she said. But I had a bad feeling that these assumptions were nothing like what actually happened to that little girl that night. The police reported her missing at 9 pm. And then that’s when I thought about the ticking noise that I heard at that same time. Then, all of a sudden, I heard it again, but the noise was a little bit louder than before. I thought to myself, What is going on? I looked at my watch, and it read 9 am. All that was going through my mind was what happened to that little girl? “ Ivy and Bella! Go take Cooper on a walk,” my mom yelled to me from across the house. Bella was my little sister. I grabbed Cooper’s leash, and my sister and I went outside. We began walking towards the woods, and Cooper pulled me along more and more; I almost lost my balance. Bella’s eyes suddenly and slowly rolled back into a glassy, milky white color, like the color of a cloud, and she began walking slowly towards a cave. I tried screaming her name, but I don’t think she could hear me. “ Bella, stop! That’s not funny!” I said, my voice shaking. Terrified, watching Bella move deeper into the dark of the cave, I began to follow the shadows of her body. All of a sudden, I saw a blazing object, and as I moved closer, I realized it was a large, glowing clock. I began to hear the ticking sound, very similar to the sound I have been hearing recently. The clock started to suck Bella in, uncontrollably, and then, she was gone. My heart sank. Tears began to roll down my face, like raindrops falling from a roof. I didn’t know how to feel. This indescribable event made me remember the other girl who went missing, and if this is what happened to her, too. Something in me told me to walk closer to the clock, almost like a calling that I needed to answer. I slowly moved my hand towards the clock, and nothing happened. I questioned why I am not the one who would be sucked in. The answers never came, but the problems started as soon as I got home. As soon as I opened the door, my mom walked up to me, looking confused. “ Ivy, where is your sister?” “ Mom, you’re not going to believe this, but while we were on the walk, Bella went into a trance and began walking into a cave, to be then sucked in by a giant clock.” “ Of course, I don’t believe this! Just admit you lost your sister in the woods, so I can call the police to report her missing.” As more and more kids went missing, the Police finally began to realize that this was a much bigger problem than it seemed. “Posters of all the missing kids were posted all over the town. I mean, someone was bound to find the clock, right?” Ivy kept thinking to herself. One day at precisely 9 am, she took her mom out into the woods towards the cave, to try to show her the clock. As they got to the place where the clock was, she said, “ Look, Mom, do you see it? I told you!” My mother's face looked disoriented. “ Is this some kind of joke, Ivy? I don't have time for this. How about we focus on finding your sister?” She walked away.
STOPPING TIME Gabriella Sabach ‘31 I really wished she would believe me, but there was no use, because it looks like I'm the only one who could see it. This means that I am also the only one who can figure out how to stop this clock from ticking. All that was going through my mind was how am I going to figure out a way to get those innocent little kids out of the clock. My initial thought was, since the ticking is the signal for another kid to get sucked in, why don’t I break the hands of the clock? That is exactly what I did. That night, I planned to go to the clock at 9 pm because I had discovered that 9 pm and 9 am were the only times the clock would appear there. I finally arrived at the clock, and with all of my force, I pulled the two hands of the clock towards each other. I could feel my hands shaking, but I knew I had to keep going to get my sister and the others out. At last, I did it, the clock hands were pulled right next to each other, facing the number 6. But nothing happened; none of the kids came out. I lost hope; I didn’t know what else to do. As I moved closer towards the clock, I began to hear a noise, like a distant echo. It was very faint, though, so I couldn’t figure out what the noise was. And then I figured it out, it was the sound of children, lost and taken from the world. And then it hit me: all this time, I'd been thinking the children would be in the clock, but what if they were actually under it? The ticking hasn’t just been indicating the time of the next missing child, but silencing the screams of the children right beneath me. It was all just a distraction. Using all my might, I tried tipping over the clock, but it wouldn’t budge. I began to look around for anything that could help me, but nothing caught my attention. I knew that all I had left to do was use my own strength. It was like pushing over a boulder, but instead I was wrestling with time. At last, I did the impossible and knocked over that big timepiece out of my way. Then something incredible happened: all the children began emerging from the pit below, like ghosts rising from the shadows. And then at that moment I saw her. I felt happier than ever. There she was, my sister, looking directly at me. We hugged so hard, we almost couldn’t let go. I missed her so much, and I knew she felt the same way. At that exact moment, I knew this was just the beginning of a new life. One that won’t be stopped by time.
JJ SCHNEUR ‘32
OLVIA NISTRATOVA ‘32
BEHIND OUR EYES Ella Zdanis ‘31 It’s 6:42 in Miami in the year 2486. I, Bella Mount, am getting ready for school. I put on my outfit, grab my backpack, take my scan, and head out the door. Nobody really knows what the scan is supposed to do. The government tells us it’s so we never have to buy glasses, and I definitely don’t want glasses. It’s just become a way of life, just like walking and speaking English. My great-grandma sits in her wheelchair in the corner, always reluctant to take the scan. My dad says it’s because of old age. She is always talking about how HER great-grandma would tell her stories about the “good old days”. “We would have to carry our backpacks, not just have them floating a foot behind us at all times. For breakfast, we would have real food, not these silly tabs that dissolve in water. The sky used to choose its dance, you know. Whatever the weather decided to be that day, it would be, and we wouldn’t mind,” my great-grandma reminds me every morning of my life. “We get it, Grandma,” my dad groaned, as if it’s just his morning ritual at this point. She’s always talking about how she wishes she were born 500 years ago, when life was easier. My dad rolled his eyes as usual and went back to pressing buttons on his phone, the red rash already forming on his fingertips from vigorous typing. When I got to school, I saw Julie, my best friend. We waved and walked toward each other. The first period was boring, per usual, as math always is. The only way I slug through it every morning is because Julie and I are always partners for things, doing as little of the work as possible, of course. Julie told me something horrible after class. I knew there was something. She was so quiet in class today, and barely talked to me in the morning. Uh-Oh, here it comes. “I’m leaving. My parents would be moving to Section 34, twelve Sections away,” she said with a lump forming in her throat. The world is split into 100 sections to keep things organized. My great-grandma says that the leaders of these sections used to be people, not androids, and that the lines separating the sections would not be straight but would be of different shapes and sizes. “But do you really have to go?” I ask, a lump forming in my throat as well. “Ya, I guess. Don’t be sad.” “But why? I’ll be so lonely here without you, you know that.” Tears are streaming down both of our red faces, dripping onto our neatly put school uniforms. She looks up at me. We both hug, and she goes home to her parents. Of course, I was sad she’d be leaving. I felt mad at her for saying that. I knew I wasn’t really mad. I didn’t really know how to feel.
BEHIND OUR EYES Ella Zdanis ‘31 The next morning, I wake up, as I guess I kind of have to. I was so lost in my thoughts of what I would do with my life now that Julie was gone. We both planned to go to this school together. We even arranged with the teachers so we'd have the same classes. Now, I’m stuck at a new school, not knowing anybody, and most importantly, without Julie. What would I do? All of these thoughts swirled in my head. I was like a robot that morning. I ate breakfast with my mouth closed and eyes straight. I put on my clothes and didn’t play basketball with my hamper. I even forgot my eye scan, but luckily, the door was still locked, which reminded me to take it. The doors in one’s home don’t unlock in the morning unless you take the scan. There aren’t even any windows! On my way to the scanning machine, I tripped on a cord and broke it. When I tried to catch myself on my side table, I knocked water onto the scanning machine. The machine sparked and powered off. The doors opened. I ran downstairs to tell my parents, but they had already gone to work. I sat in that room, thinking. “It’s okay! Glasses can’t be that expensive. What if I turn blind by the time I’m 25!? No, Bella. Calm down. You WILL get through this.” I decided it wasn’t that bad and that I would tell my parents when I got home from school. There is SO MUCH technology in today’s world, we practically swim in it! There must be a stronger scan or something to catch me back up. When I went outside, I could barely breathe. It was unimaginable. How had this happened? What do I do? A wasteland. That’s what it was, a wasteland. No life at all. I looked back at my house and saw the clean kitchen counter, the shiny tile floors, everything nice and neat. Then I looked back outside. I decided to explore, as anyone would. I left my door open just in case my house disappeared if I closed it. I stepped outside. My house disappeared. Great. I was so in shock, I hadn’t even realized how much time had passed. I looked at the watch on my wrist—8:15 am. School starts in 30 minutes. I didn't really care about school right now, though. I was more concerned about why I was standing in a wasteland rather than walking through my neighborhood streets. I stared at a strangely shaped rock. My eyes widened. It wasn’t a rock at all, but a charred piece of metal. I lifted my head slowly, as if that would protect me from what I was about to see. Hundreds of these metal rocks. All different shapes and sizes, scattered around the wasteland. What had happened? I’d begun to recognize some things. The same large rock, a real one this time, relaxing near the side of a river that runs through my neighborhood. The same ancient tree is about 100 feet from where my house would be. That’s when I realized. I was standing in my neighborhood. I felt faint. Did I travel through time or something?
BEHIND OUR EYES Ella Zdanis ‘31 I sat down to think. This HAD to have something to do with me not taking the scan. Was this what the government was hiding from us? I couldn’t have traveled because my cellular watch still said the correct time and date. I thought some more. What if the scan didn’t only affect our eyes, but also our minds? It was like they connected the two and programmed for us all not to see this. That’s when I knew what had happened. Not that “I’m pretty sure” kind of know. I mean that “THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED AND NOTHING WILL CHANGE MY MIND” kind of know. The scan had implanted some sort of mind hologram into our brains every morning. They had to do it every morning because it must have gotten lost in our dreams when we slept. I had to sit down. It looks like technology isn’t all good. I thought technology was to help us and improve our lives, when really it just poisoned us and our planet. I had to tell my family. I had to tell…the world. I hadn’t noticed the sun had begun to set. I found a soft pile of ash and lay my head down. “Wake up! Wake up!” My alarm sounded. I was in my bed. When I fell asleep, it must have restarted my mind, and I needed to retake the scan. Of course, after my discovery, no way that was going to happen. The first person I told was Great-grandma. She, of course, believed me. I took her on the same adventure I had been on. Next, I told my family. They didn’t listen. Whenever I told someone this, they would say something like, “The government is kind” or “That’s not even possible.” I needed a plan. I set my alarm for 1:00 am. When I woke up, I got dressed and headed out. I would not have to worry about cameras because by the time government officials woke up, I’d have already made my point. I went into every house, using hairpins to open the locks. I used water to splash every scanning machine there was. Once I’d finished, I snuck back home and did my parents machine. Then I went back to bed to get 2 ½ minutes of sleep. Don’t worry, it was worth it. There was chaos. I heard screaming from doors down. I walked outside to see many people in their nightgowns and rollers, confused and scared, holding young, screaming children. I got on a tall rock and yelled. “Everybody listen up!” To my surprise, everyone was actually looking at me. This was probably because I had told all of them about my findings on Monday. I told them all what was happening. I told them what the government had been hiding, what this was, where we were, what I did last night, and how to get back. They stared at me with wide eyes. “Then what do we do?” Honestly, I hadn’t gotten this far. “We fight. We fight for our freedom. We fight for our planet.” And that is exactly what we did.
UNCLE WIN’S MANSION Melissa Fridman ‘31 All of a sudden, my car came to a sudden stop. I finally stepped off my ride as Uncle Win's mansion came into view. It was three stories tall and made of what looked like white marble. Countless windows and golden pillars towered above me as I looked around. I began going up the stairs to the main entrance when the double doors swung open. I stumbled back and caught myself as Aunt Mary stepped forward to greet me with a hug. "Abby, it's so good to see you! It's been a while, hasn't it? Let's get you inside." I nodded, and she gestured me in. I looked around and thought about how cold and unwelcoming it felt here. We walked down the main lounge, and there he was, the billionaire himself, Uncle Win. He stood up and extended his hand in a formal greeting. I shook it and noticed his pale, clammy hands. He started some small talk, but soon we could see the sun setting from the glass windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. I let out a yawn just as Daisy, the housemaid, showed up. Uncle Win looked at her sternly and said, "Make yourself useful and bring Abby to the guest room." Daisy looked down and mumbled something that sounded like "yes, sir." She brought me to a room too big to just be for guests and told me there was a wardrobe ready for me. Daisy left, and I got into bed with no idea how chaotic the next day would be. I woke up the next morning to Daisy standing over me. I yelped in surprise as she mumbled out, "I'm so sorry, ma'am, Mr. Win sent me to come fetch you for breakfast in the dining room." I nodded and told her I would be right down. I opened my walk-in closet and pulled out a simple light-blue sundress. I went into the bathroom and brushed out and curled my straight light brown hair. I put on some mascara over my hazel eyes and went down the stairs. I walked into the dining room to find Uncle Win sitting at the head of the table, and around him were Aunt Mary and my little cousins Charlie and Alice. I sat myself down next to Alice and waited until the chef brought out a feast of pancakes, fresh fruit, toast, and some things I couldn't even recognize. I filled my plate up to the brim and began eating. I turned to grab some grapes and saw Alice and Charlie whispering to each other, glancing around as if to make sure no one could hear. Charlie's eyes widened suddenly, and I saw him take a quick glance towards Uncle Win. After about an hour with little to no talking, I left the table along with my cousins. Alice grabbed my hand and told me to come to her room. Inside were bright pink walls and piles upon piles of stuffed animals. She gestured for me to sit and brought out her slime kit. We made slime, and hers was especially gluey. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and walked by the dining room to see Uncle Win screaming his head off at the chef. I could tell the chef didn't know what was going on, and Uncle Win was gesturing to his plate like a madman. Eventually, he stopped and told Aunt Mary and the chef to go away. While I headed to the bathroom, I passed by the maid quarters and saw Daisy talking to a man I hadn't met yet. I assumed he was Alfred the butler, and as I was about to go in to greet him, I stopped in my tracks. I heard him whisper to Daisy, "Mr. Win is ungrateful for our services! I say we go on strike and leave. We can't take this disrespect any longer." Daisy nodded furiously with a slight smirk on her face. I finally got to the bathroom and thought about what I had overheard. When I came back out, I walked by the main hallway and let out a shriek. All of a sudden, everyone at the house was crowded around the shriveled-up body of Uncle Win himself. I looked around and saw Alfred and Daisy together, shocked, yet oddly satisfied. Charlie had a straight face and was holding Alice, who was bawling her eyes out. The chef was shocked, along with Aunt Mary. Next to his hand, which I was shaking just a day ago, was a bright pink feather.
UNCLE WIN’S MANSION Melissa Fridman ‘31 Aunt Mary turned sharply towards me and pointed her bony finger at me. "You did it! You killed him!" Everyone was staring at me, and the chef said, "She's not wrong, you were the only one in the room where it happened." I looked around in fear, and Aunt Mary was already dialing 911. She screamed that her husband was dead into the phone and yelled out the address. I knew we were isolated, and I had about an hour to clear my name. I ran to my room, and as I passed the kitchen and maid quarters, I realized that there were footprints leading to the body. I locked my door and started panicking. Soon, there would be police cars here, ready to arrest the person who poisoned New York's wealthiest man. The only way to clear my name, I thought, was to figure out who did it. I quickly rushed back down to the maid quarters and shut the door. Inside was the dirty place that most of the maids called home. Daisy was in there washing the sheets when she looked up, and her eyes widened at the sight of me. She backed away slowly and mumbled out, "Why did you poison your own uncle?" I sighed and saw that the sheets she was putting away were stained slightly pink and had feathers on them. Odd, I thought, because there was a pink feather next to the body. That's when it clicked. I knew who had poisoned my uncle. I ran upstairs to my room and saw Alice crying. I asked her, "Why did you poison your own father?" With tears streaming down her face, she blurted out, "Because he mistreated Charlie! I got all the attention, and I didn't want it!" I was relieved to have found proof. When the police arrived, I got Alice to confess to them. She had accidentally left a pink feather from her slime next to the body. The whole family looked at me sheepishly and apologized for falsely accusing me. I had a grin on my face for finding out who did it by myself. I told the family to apologize, not to me but to poor Charlie. He was satisfied with the apology and hugged Abby. I told everyone gathered around me in the hall with a proud grin plastered on my face that they shouldn't doubt me next time I came over to Uncle Win's mansion.
ARIS ATOA ‘31
LA BALSERA Emma Rosellini ‘31 Her lips were frosted with salt, surrounded by a never-ending void of water. La balsera, barely holding together, still had hope. The sky burned with orange, pink, and a deep purple, reflecting off the water like fire dancing beneath her. She had built this raft with her own hands, blistered hands, refusing to stay where she was no longer free. Her eyes scanned the water, which was darkening; something was coming. For a moment, she froze, her body stiff, until she saw it, a shark, circling around the raft. She started to panic, but she forced herself to think. She couldn't jump, she couldn't run, all she could do was stay still. The shark brushed underneath the raft, making it wobble. She lowered herself, gripping the raft tightly, turning her fingers white, her eyes locked on the water. Seconds felt like forever, but suddenly the fin started to drift away. She sighed in relief, and the ocean returned to its peaceful rhythm. The balsera started to drift forward. She looked ahead, and her fear started to turn into something else: strength. The raft drifts into the horizon, knowing somehow, someday, she would find her way back to her family safely.
SHE IS ONE WARRIOR Jaycee Cohen ‘31 She is a hunched-back warrior, said her massive backpack. Her dirty shoes say she walks from classroom to classroom, dragging her feet along as if they are two weights attached. Her shoulders low at the bottom of the ocean, said her mom, telling her to fix her posture. Her hair is so tightly held, says her brown hair tie. She is a very strong, passionate girl, says the ribbons on her wall from all her competitions. Her head held high, as if it’s attempting to touch the sky. Her room is her safe place, say the four walls that border it. Her drawers are covered in old photos, making up the memories she wants to remember, opening them when she needs them. She puts on a mask every morning to cover up the insecurities on her face, says her makeup. She watches her comfort show when she needs a break from reality, says her TV. She could eat a horse, says her kitchen. She wraps herself in her blanket when she needs a warm hug, hoping for the feeling of someone's arms. She has many personalities.
HOARDER BARBIE Anonymous I am Hoarder Barbie, and for a long time, my world was buried under piles of stuff. My Dreamhouse was nothing like the picture-perfect ones. While the other Barbies had bright, clean rooms, mine was filled with towers of clothes, boxes, old shoes, and things I didn’t even remember getting. You could barely see the floor, and sometimes I have to squeeze through tiny paths just to move around. I told myself I needed everything. I would tell myself I might use this thing one day, and I would say that even if the day never came. Everything felt important to me. A broken bracelet reminded me of a fun day at the beach. An old dress that's 3 sizes too small brought back memories of a party I went to. All these little things I own that I can't even use anymore won't let go of me, or maybe I won't let go of them. Anyways, my house didn't just hold stuff, it held memories. Over time, the piles kept getting bigger, and sometimes I even thought to myself, 'What is my life?' It got hard to move; it felt like I was stuck, stuck in my DreamHouse. One day, I tried to invite some friends over, but there wasn't even room for them to sit or even walk inside. I was and still am embarrassed by myself. I noticed all the looks on their faces, confused, worried, and even disgusted and sad. I saw them exchange looks, looks that made me rethink my life. That's when I realized something needed to change, maybe my whole life did. For the first time, I looked around and thought, maybe this isn't making me happy anymore. The next day, I decided to be brave. I picked up one small item and really asked myself, do I really need this? It was hard at first to just let simple things go. I felt nervous and unsure if I wanted to do this, but I breathed in and let go. Then I tried again, and again. One item turned into a small pile, which grew. As I cleared space, I felt like I could breathe again. Everything just felt lighter, as if I had taken off a giant rock off my back. Day by day, my dream house began to change. The floors reappeared, the light came in through the windows, and I finally felt free again. It wasn't easy at first to let go of the dress I had when I was 9, and sometimes, while picking up the trash, I felt like I didn't want to, but I reminded myself that memories don't live in objects; they live in me. Now, I am still a Barbie, but a new version of me. I'm stronger, braver, and learning how to let go. My house feels cozy and clean again. I'll always remember the old Hoarder Barbie I used to be, but that, too, is a memory that lives with me forever.
SOFIA CORTES DEL VALLE ‘30
THE DAY IT ALL HAPPENED Anonymous BEEP BEEP BEEP. Jerome's stupidly loud alarm clock roared. His cozy suburban home wasn't so cozy anymore. He woke up, but only to aggressively snooze his alarm clock. He woke up later in the morning, staring at the ceiling, wondering why his alarm clock would go off on a Saturday. “Oh No! My soccer team's final for the most crucial game is today.” He had been playing soccer since he was 5, and this was his chance to be recognized. This game determined whether he and his team, Inter Key, would advance to the best U13 league in the United States, MLS Next! He was in sheer panic. “What time is the game? Am I going to miss the most crucial game of my life?” Tears formed in his big, beautiful jade-green eyes. His majestic brown curls were a frizzy mess; it was as if he had been struck by lightning. His teen mind was spiraling as he fumbled for the clock. 7:49 am, it read, it was like a switch turned in his mind as relief washed over him. His game was at 9 am, but the pitch was 1 hour away. That meant if all went well, he would be there around 9 am. The switch in his mind was back to stress and worry. He quickly grabbed all he could think of: his kit, grip socks, shin pads, and his phone. He put deodorant on hastily. “There was not enough time in this world for him to shower,” Jerome thought. He quickly grabbed a cold bagel, spread cream cheese on it, then shouted to his mom, who was already awake and ready to go, to get ready as quickly as possible. He was so nervous that he filled up his water with hot water! In this panicked state, Jerome was in, he forgot his cleats, but didn’t realize until it was too late. He set off on the road with his mom, feeling the rush suddenly fade away as the clock read exactly 8 am. He would be perfectly on time with no time to spare if all went well. He suddenly realized that he had to be ready and on the field at 9, and the game started at 9:30. He had some breathing room. The satisfying sound of asphalt on the highway, with the window open, made him feel calm in a strange way. Just like some enjoy the smell of gas. His earpods were playing his favorite playlist. He was happy. His mind drifted to thinking about his dream fish, which wasn't far from being caught. The one and only 100pound Tarpon. He had been fishing for about 5 years, had hooked a 100-pound tarpon a couple of times, but had never landed it; that was the hardest part. He was passionate about fishing, and catching this tarpon was his fishing dream. After dreaming dreams that were too good to be true, hope was not lost, since today, after the game, he would go fishing to try again. Suddenly, he let out the loudest scream when he realized he had forgotten his cleats! The most important thing! He looked at his mom and said, “Uh...I forgot my cleats.” The silence was deafening as his mom slowly looked at him, as if you could hear a pin drop. Not focused on the road ahead, she said plain and simple, “What?” Jerome, in a defeated tone, begged his mom to stop by a store to buy cleats. She said, "Okay, but you have to pay me back," as they pulled into the store's parking lot. After Jerome was traumatized by the hectic morning, he finally made it to the game right at the start. The game finally started after waiting for what felt like forever. Unfortunately, the other team scored one goal. They weren’t happy, and it felt like someone was targeting Jerome as he tried to block a shot, but ended up scoring an own goal. It was 2-0 for the other team. Jerome's heart sank. However, his team encouraged him as he got up. The first half came to an end, and Jerome's team had all hopes of winning brutally taken away from them. He and his team walked for what felt like longer than the game time with their heads hung low. The embarrassment stung. They huddled up, a cluster of sad teens. .
THE DAY IT ALL HAPPENED Anonymous The coach had steam coming out of his ears. He fumed and screamed at the team, “What are we doing? Come on, we worked for this for a whole year just to throw it all out in 90 minutes. 1 year takes 90 minutes, come on. FOCUS!” Something clicked for everyone in the team; they had to put in maximum effort. Phhwweet, halftime ended as the second half commenced. Luckily, his team started with the ball. He got the ball, then effortlessly weaved through the others, then, with one defender left, he played a perfect wall pass to the striker to perfectly score in the top left corner. GOAL! Emotions were at an all-time high as the atmosphere seemed to change. They kicked off again, and not long after, Jerome scored again! A tap in, but an important one. Once again, Jerome got the ball and went for a risky dribble attempt around a defender. He got fouled, collapsed on the worn grass where the team was playing their hearts out, and Jerome was in immense pain, feeling as if his ankle was about to fall off. He knew... He knew very well that his ankle was broken. He couldn’t walk and was carried out on a stretcher. He sat on the bench while his ankle was being wrapped up. This was his biggest fear, and it happened at the most inconvenient moment. He was carried out crying as he was subbed off. His mind was racing in all different sorts of directions. “Is my career ruined? Why did this have to happen to me today? I feel as if my entire world collapsed!” Jerome was hitting an all-time low and didn’t even realize the game was still going on. He was in such despair and shock that it felt like it was just him, alone, with the blurry background of the field and his mom yelling his name to see if he was okay. The team continued, and Josh stepped up to take the free kick. This is their chance to win it all and go to the MLS next. Josh stepped up, shot, and scored in the top corner, winning it for the team! Jerome had forgotten all about the injury and tried to go celebrate with the team, but was soon brought back down by his ankle. He was happy his team won the game, but still despondent because of his injury; in his head, it was all over. On the ride home, his mom tried to cheer him up by letting him go fishing after he had eaten his favorite meal, spaghetti and meatballs. Even with the thought of doing his favorite activities, he was still in a state of depression. At that point, nothing could take away the fact that he felt at the lowest point in his life, even though he was eating his favorite food. At that point, there was no way he was going to cheer up anytime in the next decade. Around 6 pm, he set out to go fish, determined. The one and only 100-pound tarpon would be his! He got to his secret spot, where he had caught many fish, including tarpon, but none weighing more than 100 pounds. This would be his dream. He tied his lure on and got to work, still sad from earlier. After working this dark purple 8-inch paddle tail fishing lure from NLBN, he had nothing for one hour. His mom called him on his phone to tell him to go home. He asked for 10 more minutes, and she agreed. He was solemnly reeling in his lure, deciding whether to sink into the floor or just fully drop. He was a mixture of mad and sad, not a good combo. When, out of nowhere, BAM, suddenly he felt the bite of his life. It was here, the 100-pound tarpon. His drag was screaming as he tightened it and started fighting his dream fish. He wasn’t focused on his ankle; however, the pain was imminent. Eventually, after 1 hour, his dad drove to the spot and immediately saw the situation he was angry about, but understood.
THE DAY IT ALL HAPPENED Anonymous After 30 more minutes, he saw the tarpon and had officially landed it. His dad was hyping him up. After that, his ankle was shredded to pieces, but it was worth every little ounce of pain, and although he broke his ankle, he would do it one million more times if it meant him and his team would go to the best league in the United States. His dad snapped a picture of Jerome, who took the hook out of the fish and kissed it as he released the fish of his dreams back into the water. He went home with a smile on his face, and his whole family congratulated him. They were mad but happy. His dad found out about the cleats and offered to let Jerome cut the grass outside, on the condition that Jerome pay his mom back every cent. He showered once more and went to bed. He lay in bed and realized he had had the craziest day in his entire 13 years of life. He was like a kid on Christmas. He was ecstatic but extremely exhausted. Everything happened: he had the game of his life, scored two goals, and got them the free kick to win the game, but at a hefty price on his ankle. After this roller coaster of emotions, he decided to go fishing and caught his dream fish. Overall, it was a pretty demanding day, but in Jerome's eyes, totally worth it. He was about to go to bed when he realized once more he had faced his biggest fear and accomplished his life goal. He was on the verge of sleep when he noticed it was his birthday tomorrow. He smiled like a dog when their owner came home, then went to bed. Tomorrow was a whole other day with many other things to come.
LEIGHTON LUSTBADER ‘30
THE PRICE OF FREEDOM Maurice Nahmad ‘30 Every summer, my family and my cousins’ family packed our bikes and headed to Aspen, Colorado, a place that we were so familiar with. There, the mountains seemed to breathe alongside us. The air in Aspen was thin like usual, making every breath feel like we were sipping through a straw. White-barked Aspen trees surrounded us, and we could smell the damp, pine-scented dirt from the bike park waiting for us. From our hotel, the mountain peaks seemed to stand right over us, steadily and quietly. The sound of bike tires rolling over the dusty gravel and the rhythmic clicking of chains was calling me. We had been going to Aspen multiple times a year, and at this point, it felt like a second home. Most days followed the same routine. We woke up early when the sun was just barely beginning to light up the peaks of the mountains, packed our lunch bags, and jumped in our stiff and muddy pads. Our bikes clanked onto the bike rack as we loaded them into the vintage van that looked like it had seen plenty of muddy roads, and the cold Aspen air made our fingers shrivel as we tightened our helmets. Every single trail on the mountain was familiar, but they never got boring. Each turn through the Aspen trees and each steep downhill run still gave me a rush of excitement. Riding fast with my cousins made the wind roar in our ears, silencing every other thought. To me, riding felt so peaceful that I could sing a song without worrying about anything else. Mountain biking was more than just something to do; it was the reason we came to Aspen every year! Being on the mountain made me feel free in a way nothing else could. There were no schedules, no rules, and no adults watching our every move. It was just the trail, the beautiful bike and mountain views, and, most importantly to me, the feeling of flying down my favorite trail, Valkyrie. Valkyrie twisted through the trees with freshly dusted jumps that gave me butterflies in my stomach, that sent my tires flying off the ground for a few seconds. The smooth wooden wall ride at the very end curved along the frequently used trail. Every jump and turn made my heart race, and by the time we reached the end, I already wanted to click reverse and go back to the top of the trail to ride it all over again.
That changed one morning when my aunt realized she had forgotten to sign us up for bike camp when we made it to the check-in line. The lady scanning tickets frowned at her screen and then looked up. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “but I don’t see your names on the list.” Our smiles faded, and then my aunt replied, “That’s not possible,” scrolling frantically through her phone. “But I signed them up weeks ago.” The woman glanced back at the screen and sighed. “I wish I could help, but without a reservation, they can’t ride today, and we are full today.” The moment she said we couldn’t bike, the excitement drained out of the day, and I felt like I could hear my heart pounding through my chest. Later, we rotated over to the sidewalk, waiting for a ride back to our hotel. As we waited, the adults stood around us, offering suggestions for the day, but none caught our interest.
THE PRICE OF FREEDOM Maurice Nahmad ‘30 From a distance, my cousins and I silently watched other bikers ride by, their tires humming as they disappeared into the trails we couldn’t wait to hit. “Brooo! That’s so annoying! Now what are we going to do for the rest of the day?!” My cousin cried out to me. “I don’t know, bro…Oh! I know. Why don’t we go down to Aspen Village?” I respond. My cousins agree, “Oh yeah. That’s a great idea, Mo. Go ask our parents.” I turned around and rudely interrupted our parents and said, “Wait. I have a good idea. What if we go with the hotel van down to Aspen Village? We’re there almost every day; we know the entire area like the back of our hand, and I would be the leader, taking care of my younger cousins. Could you let us go?” Without hesitation, my aunt replied, “Nope. We don’t want anything to happen to you guys over there without our presence, since you are going biking. Instead, we signed you guys up for Ajax Adventure Camp.” From the moment we arrived, Ajax felt wrong. The camp was loud and crowded, filled with rules, schedules, and activities that felt forced. It had almost felt like cones marked areas where we weren’t allowed to cross, and counselors blew whistles that echoed against the mountains and erupted in my ears. It felt strange being so close to the trails yet completely blocked from them. During snack time, I angrily ate everything I had packed, more out of frustration than hunger. My stomach felt like it was weighing me down, but my mind felt even worse as I kept looking at the mountain, jealous of not being there. While we were stuck at Ajax, my cousins and I met another kid named Marcus who clearly didn’t want to be there either. He complained about the activities and said that biking was way better than anything the camp offered. When we told him we only came to Aspen to ride, but that our parents forgot to sign us up, he leaned in and lowered his voice. He told us about a hidden trail not far from the camp, one that wasn’t on any mountain biking map. The way he described it made my heart race. I could already imagine being back on a bike, away from whistles and rules. When break time started, the counselors were busy talking amongst themselves. I glanced at my cousins, and they looked back at me, all of us thinking the same thing. We knew we weren’t supposed to leave, and thoughts of what I told my parents about being the leader for my cousins flashed through my mind. After a few seconds of hesitation, I realized that the camp was like a cage, so we made our bold choice. Sneaking away felt exciting, like we were retaking control of the day. We grabbed some bikes we found in the camp and rode away quickly. “Mo, these bikes are pretty good.” Said my cousin. “Yeah, they are. Surprisingly.” I replied. The trail felt incredible! It was quiet and empty, and the dirt felt smooth beneath my tires like Valkyrie as I picked up speed. I felt confident again, like I had made the right choice. However, as we went further, the trail began to change. The ground grew rougher with jagged rock gardens scattered, the turns became tighter, and the drops steeper. My heart started to race, and I realized too late that I was going too fast.
THE PRICE OF FREEDOM Maurice Nahmad ‘30 Since I was leading the way, I glanced back to see how far back they were, but I couldn’t see them anywhere in the trail. Panic filled me, cold and sharp. Confused, I turned my head forward again, still thinking about where they might be. In that split second, my tire hit a hidden root. I was thrown over the bars before I could even react. I slammed into the dirt hard, the impact knocking the air out of my lungs. A hot bolt of lightning exploded in my shoulder, and the world began to spin. I tried to sit up, but my body wouldn’t listen. My stomach felt like it was folding in on itself, and as 10 minutes went by of my cousins and Marcus asking me if I’m “good bro,” I threw up all the junk food I had eaten during break time. I lay there helplessly in the middle of the trail with my stomach burning. Soon, I got back up. My legs were shaking as my cousins yelled my name from behind me. Everything felt quieter now, like the trail itself had gone still. My stomach ached, my head throbbed, and the excitement I had earlier had completely left. Marcus later tells my cousin to call the police, and just a few minutes later, adults, counselors, and police finally reach us, and the weight of what I had done settled in. This wasn’t just a bad decision; it could have ended much worse. The ride to the hospital felt long and uncomfortable; the sound of the road beneath us matched the tight knot in my chest. The emergency medical services told me that I had a broken collarbone and obviously bad cuts all over my body, and it would take a few months to be back to normal. At the hospital, my parents stood by my bed, their faces had a mix of anger, fear, and disappointment. They were upset that I snuck away, but even more shaken by how hurt I was. Lying to them under the bright, buzzing lights, I replayed in my head. The choice to leave, the boredom, and the moment I looked back instead of ahead. I realized that wanting freedom had pushed me to ignore responsibility. I promised to lead my cousins, yet I was the one who put all of us in danger. As I lay on the hospital bed, staring at the white ceiling and listening to the steady beeping of machines, I now had time to sit with my choice. The pain in my body reminded me of how quickly one reckless decision could change everything. I thought about the mountains, the trials, and how badly I wanted freedom that day. I now understand that freedom without thought is not freedom; it’s danger. That moment in Aspen taught me a lesson I will carry for the rest of my life.
ALIVIA GROUSSMAN ‘30
KARST TOPOGRAPHY IN FLORIDA Arina Sorina ‘32
Past The Blue Spring in Orange City, Florida, is 40114 ft. above sea level and is 100 years old. It is primarily formed by the dissolution of limestone. This land form was also home to Native Americans, a plantation home, and now a home for Florida manatees. The Blue Spring is the first magnitude spring formed, and it used to be underwater. Fossils of sea biscuits and sea urchins were found living alongside Spanish moss and alder trees, even before this landform began forming.
Present The Blue Spring National Park has a high temperature of 87 degrees Fahrenheit and a low of 72 degrees Fahrenheit. One of its natural disasters was when a big sinkhole caused the main vent of this spring to collapse. This disaster almost turned the entire spring into a cave. The Blue Spring also faces threats from pollution and excessive drainage, as well as from neighboring landforms. These neighboring landforms include the 310-milelong Saint John River, which supplies the spring’s water, and the wetlands. Each landform depends on the others to remain.
Future A human threat we are causing to the blue spring is limited water flow from all the pumps we have installed, and accelerated weathering from pollution. This causes unnecessary currents that can disrupt the endangered Florida Manatee’s visit. If this continues, this landform might be underwater really soon. To prevent this devastating situation, we can limit pollution by recycling or by throwing our garbage in a trash can. In addition, we should remove most of the pumps to prevent draining the spring’s water. If all of these things are done, the spring can be saved.
Upcoming...
Poetry
CAMILA ESCALON ‘30
KHORI HILL ‘32
ANA CASTILLO ‘30 AYLA MATOLI ‘32
IF I HAD A TREE... Selah Puritz ‘31
SELAH PURITZ ‘31 ARINA SORINA ‘32
LIFE IS A MANGO Jamie Zananiri ‘31
MARGAUX MAMOU- MANI ‘31
THE ALPHABET OF THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN Margaux Mamou- Mani ‘31 All along the dark road, in the dead of night, Below a wolf, worthy of fright. Caffeinated children, their energy boundless, roam the town. Down somber alleys, making Grinches frown. Even though it may be Halloween, some things you see may be obscene. Faced with these kids, Sleepy Hollow is never seen. Gunpowder’s hooves scratch the ground. Hauntingly loud, that terrifying sound. Inches closer, he prowls through mist and moonlight. Jargon is heard from yowling victims. Keening fills the air with grim hymns. Large amounts of gray fog fill the atmosphere. Making it impossible to see or hear. Nothing but darkness lingers here. Onward he rides, like death drawing near. Pumpkins glow like borrowed lights from souls. Quietly, he haunts their final strolls. Rainfall from across the land. Storm clouds gather, thick and grand. Tales of the riders spread like wildfire. Under a red moon, their fates retire. Vengeance rides; the Horseman’s. The wind blows hard through Sleepy Hollow. X marks the path the brave don’t follow. Yellow eyes glow, fierce and low, Zero souls rest; he will never slow.
Soccer Anonymous I kick the ball fast, it rolls across the field. My friends are chasing, The goal is waiting. I run, I kick, the crowd yells loud. Soccer feels like flying and I don’t want it to stop now. LEILA GOLDSTEIN ‘30
MIRIAM RODRIGUEZ ‘31
I AM A STAR Anonymous I am a natural born star shining in the night sky, I have dark curls that hide in the night I wonder what it would be like to be a famous actor I hear the sound of paparazzi shouting my name I see a crowd of people in the audience I want to see my name in lights on the street of Broadway I am a natural born star shining in the night sky I wish I was the brightest star in the whole sky I feel a shimmer rush I touch the Oscar I hold I worry that one day I won't make it I cry at the thought of disappointing my family I am a natural born star shining in the night sky I understand that it’s hard in the real world I say 1 Corinthians 10:31 "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God" I dream of a life in lights I try to be perfect, but I know I’m not I hope to live out my dreams I am a natural born star shining in the night sky
The Battle Bruce Butler ‘32 Battle the best player. Come back, win the battle. Never give up, even when losing Stay calm, don’t lose your cool. Let the match flow. It will all eventually click. And if you do all this, You will win the battle NOAH WACHS ‘31
Change Anonymous One year 12 months 52 weeks 365 days Lots of time Many memories A few bad A Few good You want to start new You end up staying the same You realize you can't change the way you are It takes courage Plants grow so can you It takes time But you will never truly change You will always be yourself Even if you try You end up not changing and say you will try next year That will never happen You have to try now if not you will never start
ILAN BARTRAM ‘31 Insecurity Anonymous I am self- conscious and insecure. I wonder how people see me from the outside; loving, living, or luminous. I hear muffled sounds of the people around me like they are underwater. I see eyes staring straight at me. I want people to treat me normally. I am self- conscious and insecure. I wish for a normal life. I feel the doubt people think of me, as if they look down on me. I touch my knuckles cracking them anxiously. I worry I will never be enough. I cry thinking that I will never be successful. I am self- conscious and insecure. I understand I will get better. I say I am a lion waiting for my moment. I dream about being enough. I try my best to fit the standards. I hope to become my best self. I am self- conscious and insecure.
Identity Salo Abbo ‘32 I am from the ocean From sea and from wave I am from a place surrounded by mountains Where community is key, and love is guaranteed I am from the beaches, where waves reach the sand Where the ocean is calm and helpful to man I am from beaches and waves. From calmness and familiar love I’m from the beaches, from the mountains, and the swamps From love and kindness I’m from g-d and from Hashem I’m from Colombia, Venezuela too Sushi and Arepa From a grandpa inside a whale To an uncle who's 12 From a European ocean, we escaped alone We were freed from the Nazis, who destroyed our home I am from those moments, those moments when we were alone.
JACOB NORKIN ‘32 Identity Anonymous I am from the deep green of the pine forests of Maine, From the rich colors of fall, and the quiet clearings in the woods. I am from Miami, Though I truly feel at home in the singing of the birds, the whisper of the wind through the trees. I am from the hole where the shy little hobbit sleeps, From the hollow mountain where the dragon growls in his slumber. I am from the notes that escape the grasp of the piano, and the gentle pressure of the foot on the pedal. From Canada and Poland. I’m from the love of Star Wars. From “Build something cool” and “No shoes in the house.” I’m from the foundations of science, and experimentation I’m from France and Britain, Guatemala and Brazil When my grandpa had to get seven heart stents, When we went in a limousine to a Thomas Keller restaurant for my birthday. I am from those moments when you wish you could get some peace, when you just want to get away. I’m from everywhere.
Identity Massimo Calabrese ‘32 I am from the land that holds clouds From the lowest buildings and the tallest skyscrapers I am from the place that is very busy With cars beeping, the boats sailing, and people walking on crowded streets I am from the city with parks and the oldest trees The oldest trees that hold lots of memories I am from a city that is very popular with the most famous people From New York and Poland I’m from the land of the free and the land that is across the globe Always be aware and always believe I’m from the land that has Santa and god I’m from New York and Italy Where pizza was made and the home of the Burger All the way from Calabria/Italy To New York/America The old hangar turned into an ice rink With old support beams and modern gymnastics beams I am from those moments in the golden age of life, the young life
Identity Joseph Hausmann ‘30 I am from a worn-out basketball From Nike and Ralph Lauren I am from a house near the water bright and loud, warm and welcoming I am from tall palm trees their green leaves bending in heavy Miami rain
AUDREY ALDERMAN ‘32
I am from hard work and competition From Miami and Venezuela I’m from the determination and loyalty From always being kind and never quitting I’m from in God and carrying my Jewish faith with pride I’m from Miami and Caracas delicious arepas and sweet pub subs From Shabbat dinners every Friday night To family parties that last for hours From the kitchen table where my grandma is cooking, and voices overlap, and laughter fills the air like music I am from those summer evenings When the sun sets slowly And everything feels calm and full of hope
An Ode to my sweet bed Anonymous Oh my comfy bed You are my favorite warm place warm, comfy and silk you have surely been there for me in my dark times My comfy, nice bed I can lie in you all day morning, afternoon, night and even when it’s on my dark morning side Oh my comfy bed the weather does not matter I will love you forever Even when I’m older
BENJI BARGE ‘31
ROMEO CUNHA ‘30
Ski Mateo Dragic ‘32 I went skiing in Austria I saw jumps and had an idea I would do those jumps well But then I just fell It was such a bad idea
HAIKU Bruce Butler ‘32 I reached the still lake, Closed my eyes to drifting sounds, Buzz, quack, water. Peace.
Summer Olivia Nistratova ‘32 Sunny and warm UV rays are high, so you can tan Mangoes are delicious and yummy at that time Memories are made that make it better Early sunrises that make the ocean glow Relaxation is the key thing people do
LIES Anonymous Lies are a blanket of tapestry, carefully woven, colored, and stitched. But, careful— they may fray over time or look messy when it’s rushed. OMAR HABOUR ‘31
Flame Anonymous Life is a flame Sometimes you are small, However, you need to be consistent, Always adding to yourself, Or else you extinguish. A bit of rain and that's all it takes. That's why you have to find a safe environment. There will still be close calls, However, you always rise up again. A flame never dies. DANIEL BROFMAN LEMOS ‘31
Lemonade Anonymous I was sipping on lemonade The sweet lemonade was homemade When it came out my nose It came out like a hose And then the pain started to fade FRANKIE KLEINBERGER ‘31
MI TESORO Nikkia Beyruti ‘31 Sale el sol y brilla sin parar A tiny spark can always warm the dark. En el pueblo de México se puede oír la esperanza Entre calles y montañas llenas de luz y color. Huele a pan y a esperanza cuando sales a caminar, Las risas de mi gente llenan todo de alegría. Aunque un día esté muy lejos Y no pueda regresar, Mi amado pueblo hermoso Siempre lo voy a extrañar. Hope can start as just a word y terminar como esperanza De algún día volver. Puedo oír el viento como si me estuviera hablando. El sol ya baja y se ve la luz, I can still see that light, A little light that slowly brightens up the way. La playa, la comida, la música y la familia. Mi herencia es mi tesoro, mi personalidad. El sol sale y se va, pero nunca deja de brillar El mar nunca va a dejar de fluir y las nubes Nunca van a desaparecer.
UNDER THE TREE
México puede estar lejos, Pero es difícil de olvidar.
Emma Rosellini ‘31 Under el árbol, the soft wind sighs Una niña triste looks at the skies The leaves move gently, Whispering low, Like memories only she can know. She stands in front of the tree, Her grandpa’s ashes rest, safe and sound.
LUNA CADAVAL ‘31
She misses his icy blue eyes, His black hair Dark as night, And his smile, That gives her esperanza And sits there with him a little longer. Carlos Lojan Maes, un padre, un esposo. Siempre en nuestro corazón, Que su alma descanse en paz. The branches sway, like saying, “estoy aquí”. She knows he’s gone, yet somehow close Viviendo in the rustling leaves, Above her now. In the end, the branches dance, Side to side, As she dances right by his side. Abajo del árbol.
THE FRANCOPHONE COUNTRIES OF THE WORLD Felicia- Victoria Valyushkova ‘31 Bleu, jaune, orange et rouge des couleurs que j’aime beaucoup. La France, le Bénin, le Haïti et la Canada, des pays du monde francophone. J’aime leur culture. J’aime l’art. C’est le symbole qui les unit. Les fleurs bleues, jaunes, orange et rouges qui représentent la francophonie.
FELICIA- VICTORIA VALYUSHKOVA ‘31 Many people know that countries have national animals, flags, and other symbols, but not everyone remembers national flowers. Flowers symbolize elegance and beauty; they are all different and interesting in their own way. Just like different cultures of countries. I chose flowers because they are gems of nature; each flower tells a story about its country. The Iris for France symbolizes faith and wisdom, the Western African Golden Trumpet is connected to Benin’s history and is a status symbol of Benin, the Black Eyed Susan (although not the official national flower) symbolizes truth, hope, and resilience for Canada, and the Hibiscus flower symbolizes national pride, beauty, and cultural identity for Haiti. These flowers represent the culture of each country, and that is exactly why I chose to draw them as a representation of every country's beauty and its connection to one another.
Upcoming...
MEMOIRS
VIVIAN WANG ‘31
THAT ONE MOMENT Anonymous It was that one moment that changed everything. I would not be in this incredible school right now writing this if my parents had made the decision they did eight years ago. It was that moment when I knew I could be something in life, but it would come with a bunch of challenges. The war in Turkiye had broken out, and we were forced to move out. It was a very scary and surprising moment because we had never seen anything like this in our five years of living in Turkiye. I loved Turkiye because it was where all my blood ran and where all my loved ones lived. It was my true home. I would always get so excited when we went to our cousin's house. It was like our whole life was set. Until it happened. Imagine not feeling at home in your home country. This was what happened to me. It was devastating, and everyone knew it. The whole country shook. I was staring back at those moments that were gone. It was like starting back on that perfect life that was broken in a moment, and that message was in my whole family’s heads. From that moment, I knew one moment could change anything, and that made me stronger. If it were not for the challenges I faced, I would not be who I am today. But at that moment, when we were packing up from our house, I did not feel this way. Picture it like this. A building that unexpectedly gets demolished with people inside. This was how my mind worked, and most people in Turkiye. But life continues, and as the days go by, morale keeps getting lower and lower. It was a very tough situation, and everyone knew it. The day was here. The day of the flight came, and we definitely had a tough time getting out of our house. Everything was packed and ready to go. There was no point in denying it; we were leaving our beloved country. The plane ride was excruciatingly long. It felt like it would never end. After eleven brutal hours of traveling, we were finally here. We landed in Greensboro, North Carolina. It was a very calm city, but that was not what we were looking for. We were used to the lively, action-packed cities, and this felt like going from a roller coaster to a three-hour lecture. The sudden change was incredibly hard for all of us to adapt to. There was a whole unpacking process we had to do, and our house was emptier than a church on a weekday. The whole process took us about a day, and after a few more days, we were finally settled in. My family still had to get me into a local school, but at least we made some progress. After some time, the school's paperwork was completed! They had gotten me into a good school, and it was within walking distance. It was perfect; my school was literally a block away, we had settled in, and my parents had also started working. After many months of fear and doubts, we had passed it. The whole family was very cheerful, and I could sense it too. The air was thin and soft. Every day felt like Christmas Eve. All the challenges we faced paid off, and I was ecstatic. Until once again the whole world shook. COVID hit and hit very hard. The once small sickness that was highly contagious spread like wildfire, and the whole world knew it. Every family, every friend, was locked in their house. The whole world was in lockdown. Our family stood strong, trying to stay active and healthy throughout this time period. It felt like time was in slow motion, barely crawling through the years of misery. It was an all-time low morale for the whole family. We couldn't go to Turkiye for 2 whole years, and that crushed my mom. She loved to visit our family, and not being able to go hit hard like nothing else. But we all knew time moved forward, and we had to keep up. Slowly, time went forward, and options opened for my parents. Slowly but surely, COVID was starting to slow down, and opportunities from FIU were emerging. If they landed the deal, we would be moving to Miami. Miami was one of my mom’s favorite
places to visit, and having the opportunity to move there was crazy to think about. After many months of hard work finally paid off. We were moving to Miami! After all the tragic events in Greensboro and all the hard work, they finally paid off. That one moment finally paid its reward, and we will never forget it.
BLURB Anonymous As I walked up to the big wooden doors of Granpa’s house, I was so excited to finally be able to sleep over at the big house. At the time, I was around 9 and excited to try some new things. Later that night, I sat on the pristine white couch in his house with him and my brother and watched Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. Before we started it, though, a commercial for this team of ghost hunters came on, and ever since then, I have believed the house is haunted. Luckily, my grandpa moved out of that house and into a condo a few years ago.
THREE PERFECT MEMORIES Olivia Nistratova ‘32 Our friendship is beyond the sunny or gloomy; you make the day better. Friendship is a gift that I will never take for granted. The first day I saw you. I knew we would be best friends at the end of the day. Our friendship is beyond words. When I come to visit you, my heart finally finds the missing piece it has been seeking for a while. I hope to repay you for all the amazing things you've done for me. I hope this friendship never ends, and I miss you to the end of the universe.
When I came to visit you, you hugged me so hard I couldn't breathe. It was one day before Valentine's Day, and we were both single. I had so many plans for us to have the best Valentine's Day. We were going to order in and watch movies. Valentine's Day came. It was evening already, and my sister's friend came. We ordered food and had so much fun. Whenever I come to New York to visit her, we have a blast. Each day that pasts i miss her so much, and I hope we can have that much fun again. I will never regret having a sister like you.
The first day I saw you, when I was sitting on the cold floor, you jumped into my arms with love, and that's when I knew you were the one. Your hard and soft coat with your little pigtail was the cutest thing I've ever seen. When we bought you, you were the heaviest thing we'd ever bought. Each year, you get funnier and funnier. I take you on walks, and when we get in the elevator, you run in circles, and when I tell you to sit down and high-five me, you jump in my arms with joy. If I had never gotten you, I don't know what I would have done.
DON’T TAKE TIME WITH THEM FOR GRANTED Anonymous I remember the times when I got picked up by my sweet grandma, my older cousin smiling in the passenger's seat. The excitement I felt was immense. I always knew I was going to have a good time when she picked me up. I remember reading books in the car on the way to her house while she asked my cousin and me how our day was. I remember playing soccer in the hallways of her house with my cousin, who would beat me every time, and I would get frustrated. I remember Shabbat dinners at her house, where my cousins would mess around with food in their mouths, and my Uncle would make jokes. As I grew, my sweet grandma slowly became less sweet and more disoriented and lost. At the time, I was confused as to what was happening. I was wondering where my onceattentive, sharp-minded grandma had gone. Then my dad told me she had dementia, which was a disease that caused her to forget things and not act like herself. The visits to her house became less pleasant and less frequent; she was becoming someone I didn't know. I was so mad that she was getting worse, and there was nothing I could do. Now I'm fourteen, and I only visit her every two weeks because she lives in a special nursing home for people who have dementia, which is really far from my house. The doctors recently told us that she doesn't have much time left, so I've been trying to spend as much time as I can with her, but with my busy schedule, it's hard. I just really miss the times when she would cook for my cousin. I miss the late Shabbat nights, when we would play soccer in her hallways. I miss Grandparents Day when she came to visit me. I miss her.
MEMOIR Salo Abbo ‘32 Lying in his room, with the steady hum of the air tank beside me, I watched him. My baby cousin, Salomon Mishaan. His Sea Blue eyes stared deep into mine, amazement evident. Sunlight seeped through the half-closed curtains. His tiny fingers wrapped tightly around mine. The only thing important in that moment was him and me. The world around us disappeared. His toys, the painted blue walls, and my mom right outside the door all disappeared. But that didn't matter. Salito, the nickname bestowed upon him by me, looked like the happiest kid in the world. But that's not possible, because that kid is me. About 3 months later, at Abuela Lilis' house, the smell of old books and lavender, and the soft sound of the fan were the only things out of the ordinary. The house usually smells of lilac, and the fan is usually off. I walked into her room, and Salito was on her bed, racing cars and trucks across her sheets. The sound of his laughter made me want to die from cuteness, and I think everyone did, too. Happiness was evident. He was like me, creating his own little universe for fun. I felt so proud to be his big cousin. For his 1st birthday, about 9 months later, he went on his first plane ride to Miami. He came to Shalom Haifa for a family lunch. He wasn't tall enough for a normal seat, and all the baby chairs were taken, so he ate on my lap. He was so good that he never cried or yelled, and he ate everything with no fuss. I was so focused on him instead of my regular I ordered one soup and finished quickly so I could play with Salito. After lunch, we went to my house, and for the first time ever, he swam.
EMMA ROSELLINI MAES ‘31
VALENTINA CHULLMIR ‘31
KHORI HILL ‘32
ALEC ROSENFELD ‘32
OLIVIA NISTRATOVA ‘32
NAVA MAROM ‘32
LYSANDER WATERFIELD ‘31
ARI MINSKI ‘30
OMAR VILLANUEVA ‘30
MY NAME IN MEMORIES Bella Nahmad ‘32 My name originates from Italy, and hearing it sung by Italians, I feel as if I were home. The way it flows through the air, soft and gentle, gives me chills and makes my hair on my arms stand up. The water taxi drivers ask my name, and I answer “Bella”. Their faces go from relaxed to singing “Ciao Bella". I hear a little accent in the voices of the Italians. The name Bella means beautiful in Italian, and it brings me delight. It dances through the air as you pronounce the soft B, to the A at the end. BEL-uh. Of course, the Americans have to change things up by pronouncing the double L’s instead of the B and A. The American way is always different. The welcoming arms of the pink and purple far, far away camp. Camp Matoaka brought out another part of me, the water part. Half mermaid, half human. I glide on the silver smooth sunny lake, balancing on one ski. Pride in my eyes, the water fierce and chilly. I turn and groove as I hear the instructor shout, “Way to go Bella!” That’s when I found out, camp is my second home. BEL-uh. In this case, Spanish. Long trips to Peru and Biscoff cookies that bring joy to my mouth and a smile to my face. The second we land, I hear it, Bella. En español, Bella significa principalmente «hermosa» y —curiosamente— también «vela». The way that the Peruvians say my name is beautiful. I never fail to smile when I hear it called. The cozy hugs and warm food are more things that make me, me. Bella sways through the air as the slow letters escape a certain mouth. BEL-uh.
ROMEO CUNHA ‘30
VALERIA CHAVEZ ‘32
MIA GRANADO ‘30
UNEXPECTED EMAILS FROM THE FORGOTTEN Anonymous Dear Lilac, Finally, you washed me! The day I have been waiting for, when I finally was the one you chose to go to school with! But, as I came with you to math class, it was then that I realized I’m definitely staying in here in your dark bag all day. Now, I live under your heavy laptop, face-forward, with all the crumbs and gum rappers sinking into my blue, squishy body. Days turned into weeks until finally I saw your big hand reach for me and squish me tight. And then, you washed and returned me home. Please never take me to school again! From, Your blue soft unloved needoh.
Anonymous Dear Mar, Oh, I sure don’t miss being in your rusty right pocket, next to gum wrappers. Mar, I don’t think you understand. You left me in that one pair of shorts you used at the beach, and you’ve never seen me again. I’ve experienced the unimaginable: you’ve left me in the washer, in the closet, & some places I don’t even remember. I’ve made my way all the way to Fort Lauderdale, where I have a better owner who actually cares about me, and I am amped for a great spring break. And if you’re thinking “how did I get here?”, well, you got into an Uber, and as you got out, you dropped me on the street, and walked away to an apartment. I’m having the time of my life & never coming back. Your forgotten friend, Breath Mint Strip
Mateo Dragic ‘32 Dear Mateo, Thank goodness you took me out of the Nike shop. I couldn’t wait for you to get me stinky, and I am excited to get dirty on the field. But when you put me on, you just left me on the shoe rack. I hope you come for me again so I can get worn once more. Day after day, you left me sitting alone in complete darkness. I am scared, and I want to see Sunlight. I want to get dirty on the field. Please come get me, Mateo! From, Your cleats currently collecting dust
Massimo Calabrese ‘32 Dear Massimo I hoped you would come home and play with me, but you left me on the couch, and now I'm under a pile of clothes. I hope you will find me and play games with me. When you will, I will forgive you because sometimes things happen. Warmly, Your Xbox Controller
NAME STORY Logan Roth ‘32 All names have meanings, even yours! My name is Logan Harrison Roth. Logan means “little hollow” and it originates from the Scottish word ‘lagan’. My middle name Harrison comes from my great grandfather on my mother’s side. My last name is Roth, Roth means red in German, and there is an interesting story behind my last name that I'm excited to share with you! My first name is special to me because my mom always knew that is what my name would be. My mom chose the name Logan for me. She fell in love with the name when she was 7 years old and decided that would be the name for her child one day. When she was 7, she met a boy named Logan who had energy for life, curiosity, and a warm, fun loving personality. She says “The second I saw Logan I knew that would be your name.” Even though the name Logan has Scottish origins, that does not mean I am Scottish. My dad's family comes from Poland and Kuwait and immigrated to Israel, where my dad was born. He moved to the USA when he was 13. My mom's ancestors came to the USA from Austria, Russia, and Poland. But all my great grandparents on my mom's side were born in the States. My ancestors come from different places, but Scotland is not one of them! My middle name, Harrison, is after my great grandfather. His name was Harry Potter. And I know what you are wondering, Yes that was his real name! When the book, “Harry Potter” came out, my great grandfather got a lot of calls from kids looking to speak to the real Harry Potter. Believe it or not, he was a magician when he was a kid! Harry was born in New Jersey and he was a lawyer. He was very “chill”, never lost his temper, and was easy going. I hope I have these qualities too. My great grandfather on my father’s side was a Holocaust survivor and his last name was Rotmensch. When he immigrated from Germany to the USA through Ellis Island, the immigration official shortened his last name to Roth because he couldn't pronounce Rotmensch. Rotmensch means “Red Man” in German. I wonder if one of my ancestors was a redhead - but I don't know. I am Logan Harrison Roth, and I don’t want to be anyone else. My name is special to me because it is part of me. While writing this essay, I learned that my name has Scottish origins but even if a name comes from somewhere, that doesn’t necessarily mean the person is from there. Although a name doesn't fully define someone’s identity, names are important because they connect us to our families, our memories, and ourselves. I am proud of my name because it represents me. I've always liked my name and I'm glad I like it because I hear it all the time. My name is very important to me because it symbolizes all of me and it represents me. It is the first thing I hear in the morning and the last thing I hear at night. It makes me feel very happy because my name is me!
JAKE BAROUH ‘32
JONAH GALLACHER ‘31
ALEXANDRA MARGOLIS ‘32 ‘
AUDREY ALDERMAN ‘32
CORY OLSON ‘30
SHILOH ARCHAMBAULT TIGER ‘31
CODY SIMPSON ‘31
LILLY HOLLER ‘32
ENKI THEOBALD ‘30