Lit Mag 15-16

Dream or Reality By: Daquon Anthony Somewhere between being Stubborn and Determined Somewhere between being Farsighted and Focused Somewhere between being Humble and haughty Somewhere my passions are between a dream and reality Am I a skeptic or do I just want immediate answers? Am I a perfectionist or do I have no talent? Is this a hobby or a vocation? Is it negligible or important? Is my behavior a part of adaptation or assimilation? Am I unworldly or a prodigal? Am I self-aware or just naïve? Am I a pacifist or coward? Is it fight or flight? Wrong or right? Do I have patience or am I deep in procrastination? Am I Neurotic or struggling to be sure? Do people simply hear me and don’t listen? Am I on the inside desolate or am I over exaggerating? Do I have no hope or not enough faith? Am I agnostic or just an atheist? Do I have an idea or none as to why we exist?If the situations were critical and it was my life or yours which would hold more importance? If it was god or time, the two most uncontrollable factors, which is more prevalent? We couldn’t tell because we can’t see But when we can’t see can perceive? My psyche keeps asking me Is my passion a dream or a reality? And I respond with this response filled with high self esteem Once I map out the weak and developing scheme Then my passions could be more of a reality than a dream.



Alanna Jones Reverse Poem Beauty I am not pretty at all So don’t try to convince me that Everyone is beautiful in their own way Because if you look a lot closer People are mean and hurtful Even if There are good people out there Bad opinions matter, if you think about it And it’s not true that It’s how you view yourself Because True beauty can be obtained on the inside Only if it is outside It’s not true that beauty exists And I’m sure you can agree that Life Creates My attitude I can’t do anything about itAnd you will never in this lifetime hear me say that I am a beautiful person *Now read from bottom to top

InvisibleI am invisible not only to everybody but I can’tSeem to find myself, for I am Never seen and Never heard It is hard to exist but not be heard For I am invisible And no matter how loud I scream I am Still never heard. Because people don’t hear my words And maybe one day I’ll be heard And will no longer be invisible. Lost Sometimes we all feel lost When you’re lost sometimes you Can’t be found Until you find yourself you will never Be found And sometimes we all feel lost We hide behind the words People label us as Freak, geek Is what they call me And I’m starting to feel As though I’ll be Lost forever By: Heidie Vogtman



Dionna Hilton Lilly’s Down Fall Lilly Hawken’s had a happy life, a happy family, straight A student. Lilly was so close to her dadbecause her mom always worked. But lately things have been really weird at home. When Lilly waswalking home from her high school she noticed that her mom was angry and she had bags in her handsgoing to her car. Lilly walked up to her mother and asked “Mom where are you going!?”, but she did notget a answer. While her mom was pulling off she ran to her dad and asked “what happened!?”, but shedid not get a response either. That night Lilly stayed in her, so did her dad, no one said a word. Thatwhole night Lilly cried because she was confused about the situation and her mom did not return homethat night. A few days later Lilly’s mom had returned home, but something was off about hermom….was she in a hurry? “Lilly” says mom “let’s go, pack your bags and go to the car.” “But whatabout Dad!!” Her mom ignored her and went to the car. “Mom I am not leaving dad… I am not going youcannot take me away from him…I’m NOT GOING!!” “YOU ARE COMING WITH ME NOW!!” yelled Lilly’smom. “NOOO!” screamed Lilly “I will never leave dad in a million years, I am not leaving him!!” Lilly’s momhad dragged Lilly out to the car and forced her in, and drove off. While her mom was driving, Lillystarted to cry nonstop. “Where are we going mom.” A few hours had passed and they arrived at a hotel.After the incident a few days had past. Lilly has been not attending school. She has stopped eating, andstop talking to her mom. There were many episodes of Lilly thinking about ending her life because shemissed her dad so much.











Not Knowing A new neighbor moved in exactly opposite of us right in front of our house. He lives on his ownexcept for his large Husky dog that he always keeps on a leash. It's a fierce looking animal and its head isalways moving from side to side. All the time looking to see what it can get its teeth into. I knew for afact that I would not be getting anywhere near that dog. I'm a bit wary when I take our dog out at night because I seem to come across the pair of themsuddenly in dark corners or alleyways. He has never offered to speak to me yet even though I havepassed quite close by. I have tried speaking. Saying “hello, nice weather were having “etc, but nothing. Ihad noticed that his dog went everywhere he went no exceptions. However, last week I saw that heinstalled one of those Halogen Security Floodlights that are set off by a beam when someoneapproaches. Unfortunately, for us opposite, the floodlight was set too high. When the light wastriggered the beam penetrated our house windows from front to back. If a bunch of helicopters wereabout to land right on our front lawn. The next night the light went on just after 3am and it woke us up immediately. A couple of minuteslater it went off on its timer. A few minutes later it was on again and so it went on. After a dozen timeswe thought that we were going through a KGB interrogation. Looking out of the curtains we could notsee anyone about to set the mechanism off. We later found that it was a hedgehog that stopped everytime that the light went on then set off again when the coast was clear and the light went out - only tostart the whole thing off again! That night I was wondering whether our new neighbor was a completeblunt or rude person or if he was really unaware about what was going on outside of his house.The next morning approaches, after a strong cup of coffee and a warm toasted bagel with the rightamount of cream cheese, I was at his doorbell. \"What were you doing last night with your security light?It kept going on and off and on and off all night waking us all up. We didn't have a wink of sleep.\"In thedaylight the face looked quite kind and the dog even looked a bit friendly.\"I'm so sorry,\" he said \"I'm blind.\"By: Sade Salako

Speak By Toni Moyer You say that you are nice and never mean But every time you speak the words that come out are mean Whenever you talk or have spoken I’m quiet When you see that I’m now quiet you think you have won You say I’m quiet, mean and everything I say is rude never nice And that I shouldn’t speak But what you don’t seem to understand is what I do say when I have spoken You speak what you feel and so do I The only different is you’re loud and I’m quiet just like you said But if I speak like you thenI would be mean like how you said, you see I was told that if you have nothing nice to say then don’t speakThat is why when you speak I’m quiet not because you won it’s just that I can’t speak And if I did it would be mean so I’ going to be quiet for now Until the mean thoughts I got from hearing you speak are gone then I should speak and you will be the quiet one

Am I Free? By: Darien Webb How do I see life? Waking up in the morning. The cold mornings. To go to school. But it feels like prison. I’m trapped in a building. With other prisoners. There I’m living in my mind And want to be set free And when I leave this prison I’m free Free from the guards and other prisoners Free from the hard labor Free from the restrictions I’m free from my mind. Just to wake up from my dream Of freedom To go back to prison. Undefined I’m undefined by the dime I’m undefined by the time I’m undefined by this rhyme I’m undefined by the climb My struggles in life don’t define my fightMy heartache and pain don’t define my life My name nor my shame begin to claim What faults and failures remain the same I’m undefined by the climb The time The dime And this rhyme April Ross

Dear John, It has been so lonely without you. I can’t remember the last time I was happy. It’sbeen 1 year 5 months since you’ve left me. I think about you all the time, how your smilebrightened anyone’s day, how your eyes brighten every time you laugh, and how you snort whenyou laughed. I love your brown eyes and your black hair, and your sense of humor. It’s not fairthat you left me. I know it’s not your fault, it’s your duty to protect our great country, but Imiss you so much. Jocelyn is 9 months now, she’s getting so big. She’s such a handful like her father, Ithink she’s getting ready to crawl. She’s gonna add more grey hairs to my hair. Her eyes aregetting darker, I bet she’ll have your dark brown eyes. She reminds me of you so much. Shemakes the same facial expression as you. Her smile even similar to yours. I can’t wait for youto meet her. I bet she can’t wait to meet her daddy. Your mother loves her, she misses you aswell. I feel like she’s hiding her depression behind her bright, warm smile that only Jocelyn canbring out. When are you coming home? It’s all lonely in this house, I can sometimes hear thefloorboards creak. I miss hearing your yells of excitement and anger on football Sunday. I misswaking up to the sound of your laugh whenever you watched cartoons early in the morning. Andfor some reason I miss the sound of you cracking your knuckles, even though I hate that soundand I hated when you did that. John, I could continue to write this letter, but it might end up as a novel. I love you somuch it aches, and I know you feel the same. Because you told me a couple of letters ago. I’mscared that one day, someone will call me because of your untimed demise. What if Jocelyn willnever get to meet her wonderful father? What if I won’t ever get to see you again? I know I’msupposed to stay positive, but I’m always going to have that sense of what if. I just don’twant to lose you. I have to go, I can hear that Jocelyn has just woken up from her nap. I hope I get tohear from you soon. Stay safe my love. I’ll will keep you in my prayers that you come home tome safely. I love you John. Happy Anniversary. Love Miranda

By: Danashia Oree “Bye mom!” Timmy said as he slammed the door, tugging on Jimmy. It was Halloween night andTimmy wanted to go to a party. Jimmy, however, had other ideas. He wanted to go trick-or-treating, buthis mother told him he had to listen to Timmy for the entire night. Jimmy was dressed up as a cat, andhis brother was dressed up as a vampire.“Listen up little boy, I’m in charge here. Mom may have said we’re going trick-or-treating but we’regonna go to a party so I can finally get Cidny to love me.” He stops and coughs, hoping his brother didn’thear him. He takes a moment to breathe and continues. ”You’d better not embarrass me or else I’ll tellmom that you had broken her brand new vase earlier, got it? This party means a lot to me, and all of thecoolest kids are here. If you mess this up for me I’ll make you pay.” Timmy says sternly, staring deep intoJimmy’s soul. Jimmy gulps and agrees to behave, although he is upset that he won’t be able to go trick-or-treating this year. Timmy and Jimmy make their way to the party, only to be stopped by a group ofcats in a road. The cats surround Jimmy, who doesn’t mind much. He loves cats, and always wanted apet cat. His mother was allergic to cats so he was never allowed to be near one.“Jimmy, what on earth are you doing? We’re going to be late!” Timmy growls.Jimmy pets one of the fluffiest cats he can find. “I think they like me! And they’re all so cute!”“Jimmy, please. Can we go now?” Timmy rolls his eyes as a cat crawls up onto his shoes, biting his nowsaliva covered shoelace. Jimmy gets up and brushes the cats’ fur off of his costume.“Alrighty, let’s go then!” Jimmy says with a glistening smile. Jimmy and Timmy arrive at the party late.Timmy tries to sneak through the back of the house, hoping that no one realizes that they are late.However, the son of the house’s owner, Marshall, finds him hiding in the corner of the kitchen.“Yo’, loser! Where have you been? I’ve been waiting to punch you all night long!” Marshall says, puttinga lollipop in his mouth.“On our way here, we found a kitty!” Jimmy says happily.“A kitty?” Marshall holds back his laughter. Jimmy stares at him.“Yes, a kitty. Do you speak English?” he manages to say before Timmy covers his mouth.“That’s enough candy for you, little bro! Haha, he didn’t mean that, Marshie.“ Timmy apologizes, tryinghis hardest to smile.“Marshall” Marshall corrects Timmy“Marshall! Well, I appreciate you allowing us to come here tonight! Hey, is that Cidny over there? WowCid you look nice!” Timmy says, laughing awkwardly.“Who invit’ad you her’, geek?” Cidny says, trying not to pay too much attention to Timmy. She’s toobusy chugging down a glass of non-alcoholic wine. It tastes disgusting, but it makes her feel mature.“I see you’re nicer than ever, ma’am.” Jimmy mummers through Timmy’s hand.

“Alright that’s enough. Get out my house.” Marshall says, pushing Timmy and Jimmy out the front door.“Please, please, please let me stay! Jimmy can stay outside, just let me stay” Timmy pleads. Marshalllooks at Cidny, who shakes her head.“Have a good night, loser! Never come back!” Marshall says, throwing a heavy bag of rocks at Timmy.Timmy falls onto the ground, setting off the sprinklers. The dirt around him turns into mud and it seepsthrough his clothing.“Hey, are you okay?” Jimmy says trying his hardest to pull Timmy up.“What are you so worried about? It’s not like you just got drenched! You think everything is a joke! Didyou ever think that maybe I have feelings, too? Just because you didn’t get what you wanted, youthought you should ruin my night for me?” Timmy yells. Jimmy lets go of Timmy, letting him fall backinto the puddle.“I have feelings just like you do. But I don’t dismiss other peoples’ feelings just because I want to becool. It’s no wonder Cidny and Marshall hate you so much!” Jimmy’s eyes water up and he runs away,leaving behind his bag. Timmy picks up the bag and looks around. Jimmy’s already gone. Timmy goes around the neighborhood in his soaking wet pirate costume, asking people forcandy. Most people laugh at him for being too old to trick-or-treat, but others give him candy. By theend of the night, the bag is half full. He goes back home to find Jimmy on the stairs outside the house.“Hey!” Timmy says smiling. Jimmy doesn’t reply. Timmy holds out the bag of candy and shows it toJimmy.“I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I feel like a real dumbbell right about now. I justwanted to be cool for once in my life, you know?” He says, setting the bag aside. Jimmy gives Timmy ahug.“That’s okay, I think you’re pretty cool” Jimmy says, putting an ice cube against Timmy’s arm. Theylaugh.“So do you forgive me?” Timmy asks, scratching his head.“Nope.” Jimmy says smiling.“You really suck, dude.” Timmy replies jokingly, giving him a hug. They go inside and eat as much candyas they can before they overhear their parents talking about sending them to camp the following week.Timmy isn’t too excited about it, but Jimmy is thrilled.

Kiranyi Vasquez Batton Manor No one dared to enter that house. Just looking at the daunting structure of Batton Manor couldmake a grown man tremble in fear. Old, decrepit, and eerie, are all words everyone who has gazed uponthis house would use as it sits upon Woodcrest Hill; surrounded by old trees with twisted trunks andblanched branches, and a yard covered with dried up, overgrown weeds. The shutters of the houseswing with every light breeze, hanging on rusted hinges seeming to be on the verge of giving way at anysecond. Its dingy paint chipping away with age, yet adding to the houses haunting atmosphere. There are many stories that revolve around the house and its owners, the Batton’s. The housewas built by a wealthy farmer and his wife in the late eighteenth century. Legend has it that theirmarriage was one of love and devotion, they even had two children: a girl and a boy. However, legendhas it that one day the farmer’s wife had privately confessed to the local pastor that her husband wasnot who she thought he was when she claimed that she had found bloodied clothes, that didn’t belongto either her or her husband, in his private study. Fearing for her life and that of her children LadyBatton had attempted to flee from her husband, however, she hadn’t made it. It was said that theBattons were found dead in their home, with their heads severed from their bodies, however no headswere ever found at the scene. Their story has been altered in so many ways that, no one really knowswhat happened that night, or likes telling their story. Some say that if you stand at the foot of the hill onwhich the house stands you can hear the faint cries of the Batton children screaming, begging for help. Although there are not many that would dare to even gaze upon the petrifying structure, therehave been a few brave souls that have attempted to live in the house; however, they would not lastlong. They would claim to have heard voices in the night or seen shadows lingering in the halls. A fewyears ago, a young couple, had moved into Batton Manor to begin their new lives together. However,after just a few weeks they had simply just disappeared. Of course police had gone to investigate wherethey were, but not a trace of them was found, only their belongings. This had led to local police doing aninvestigation of the house. During a thorough search of the house two officers discovered a false panel in what was knownto be the office of Mr. Batton. The panel concealed a hole where inside there was a stairway the lead toa basement. As the officers got to the bottom of the steps they are greeted by a faint yet foul odor, theythen saw a doorway halfway boarded up which seems to be the source of the smell. Stepping into theroom the officers encounterd something they had not seen coming; dozens of well-preserved headslining the walls of the room, eyes closed, mouths agape. Shining their flashlights at each of the facesthey could easily identify them as those who were reported missing, even those from back when theBatton’s lived in the house. In the middle, arranged on some sort of pedestals are the heads of theBatton children.

Picking up his radio to report their find, the officer was met with static. Thinking it was justshortage of the battery his companion tries his radio only to face the same problem. Turning to leavethe room to use the radio in their cruiser, they noticed that the doorway was boarded up completely tothe point where they would need tools to pry them off, tools they did not have. Suddenly, they hearddeep breathing coming from behind them and turned to see the blinking eyes of the Batton children, theyoung couple, then the next head, and the next until all were openly staring at the two officers.However, before the officers could even get a word out they are knocked into a nearby wall by a force,suffocating them until everything around them went dark. Waking from the attack, one officer looked around and saw his companion still unconscious. Helifted his hand to feel a throbbing pain in his neck only to realize that his hands were gone as was therest of his body and that of his companion. He then noticed a figure lurking in the shadows rearrangingthe collection of displayed heads, a display of which they were now a part of. As the figure steps out intothe dim light of the room the officer noticed it was none other than Mrs. Batton or at least an apparitionof her. From all of these years of rumors believing it to be her husband behind of the disappearances, itturned out to be the not-so-innocent wife. Why would she kill all of these people, why would shemurder her family, and how had her spirit remained in this house all of these years? All of thesequestions the officer wanted to ask but unfortunately didn’t have the chance as his vision began to fade.The last image he saw was Mrs. Batton with a smirk plastered onto her lovely face.

Y.D. RamosGermany July 19, 1941, was the day my life changed forever. I was in my mediocre apartment inBerlin, Germany, the only one I could afford with making under $200 a week. I was 22 at thetime and I haven’t talked to my family in almost 2 years. Why you may ask? I don’t like to talkabout it. I was cleaning my living room for the third time this week, when I heard a banging onmy door. Who in God’s name is banging on my door? I walked to my door and saw a man, withbrown hair, blue eyes and a red face. It looked like he ran a marathon, the way he wasbreathing hard, his shirt full of sweat, and his body hunched over, hands on his knees. Once hecaught his breath, he pushed me to the side slammed my front door and entered my dimapartment, going straight to my window. I could still hear him breathing very deep and hard, Ifaintly heard a wheezing sound come from his nose. “What are you doing?” I yelled, with a hintof anger in my voice. “Nazi’s…chasing me…need…to hide.” He said. “And that’s my problembecause? What did you even do?” I snapped, crossing my arms, giving him a glare behind hisback. He turned around to face me, the bright yellow Star of David hanged on his black shirt,literally punching me in the face. Now I know why the Nazi’s were chasing him. They wereattempting to send him to the ghettos and soon the camps. “Fine, now come on-“ A loudbanging on my wooden door stopped me. “Open up!” I heard a loud deep voice yell. His voicefull of authority, almost making me freeze in fear. “Follow me” I whispered, running to mybedroom, which was in the back of my apartment, tucked away from the dangerous world. Iopened the door to my clean bedroom before I ran to my closet. I opened the little door tuckedaway to the right of my closet. “Get in there” I ordered. “Are you serious?” He asked me, with asarcastic tone in his voice. “Do you want the Nazi’s to take you away?” I retorted. “Fine” He saidquickly before ducking down and entered the room. I closed the little door, my closet door and finally my bedroom door, before I speedwalked to my front door. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. God get me through this. Iopened my eyes and placed my hand on my metal door knob. I opened my wooden door to findtwo angry Nazis on the other side. They wore a tan suit and hat with the red swastika on theirleft arm, a symbol that shows that the Nazis are proud to serve the devil. One had blonde hairand blue eyes, the “dominant” German stereotype that was Adolf’s propaganda. Funny, the mandoesn’t fit his own propaganda. The other had blonde hair and brown eyes, somewhat close tothe stereotype. “May I help you?” I asked the two gentlemen. They raised their right arms. It was a hand gesture to the Nazis praising their ridiculous,yet terrifying leader and said, “Heil Hitler” to me. I rolled my eyes, well, not to their faces. “Wewere wondering if you’ve seen a Jew run through here ma’am,” Blue eyes asked me. “No, why?Did one get away? Sounds like the Nazis aren’t doing their job correctly.” I smirked at them,hoping to hit a nerve. “Listen, ma’am, this is serious. Wait, aren’t you Elise, the commander’sdaughter?” Blue eyes asked, smirking at me. “Maybe, why do you ask?” Darn it, they know whoI am. “Everyone knows about you Elise, how you were disowned by your family after they foundout that you hated our great leader and his views. If word was out that the commander ofAuswichitz’s daughter was harboring a fugitive, then all hell would break loose on you and yourfamily.” Brown eyes said. “Well, I don’t have one. So, you can just be on your way.” I said,shutting my front door. My front door was stopped by a foot. Blue eye’s foot. “After we get a look

around of your apartment, ma’am” Blue eyes said, opening my front door. He bumped myshoulder hard against his, while entering my apartment. I took a big gulp as I watched the blueeyed Nazi walked around my apartment. “Nothing here” he said, going through my living roomand kitchen. I watched him walk down the hall to my bedroom. Oh no. He opened the door tomy bedroom and went straight to my closet. I widen my eyes as he opened the door and movedmy clothes around, trying to find the man with the black hair and blue eyes. Please don’t noticethe door. He stopped looking through my closet suddenly. Oh no. He noticed the door. Oh God.Oh God. That’s it, I’m done for. They’re going to send me to the camps. I felt a chill go down myspine, and not the good kind. My breathing changed dramatically. I feel sorry for the man in thetiny room if he is caught. Blue eyes shut my closet door and left my room. I took a big sigh ofrelief. Thank God. Finally, he went to my bathroom and opened the door to see if anyone was inthere. “There no one is here, now get out of my apartment.” I snapped. I was so fed up withthese two. “Fine, but we’re on to you. Good night, Elise,” Blue eyes said before walking out myapartment and slamming my front door. “You’re the daughter of the commander of Auschwitz?” Oh, great.

It’s Not My Fault I am who I am It’s not my fault I’ve been through so many things It’s not my fault I’m shy and quiet when it comes to other people I keep my distance because I fear to get too close It’s not my fault I just don’t want to be hurt again Is that too much to ask? I’m a fragile person But it’s not my fault I easily take things to heartI can admit that sometimes I overthink the smallest thingsI can admit that at times I cry over the things I overthinkFeeling as though I have no one is not a new feeling to me It’s not my fault I didn’t ask to feel this way People made me this way It’s not my fault All the fighting I do All the yelling I do All the crying out I do I don’t want to be seen as a girl that has lost her mind A girl that is all depressed inside So I try I hold all my emotions in And then sometimes I just lash out It’s not my fault It’s yours By: Jacqueline Bennett