Creative Writing 2 -Class Anthology 2023 (1)

2023 Class Anthology Creative Writing II Mrs. Rose RAISE YOUR VOICE

To the students of CCHS Graduating class of 2023 and Future stars of Creative Writing Three: You did it! You used your creativity and your talents to raise your voices for something you believed in. You should be proud of yourselves. I am proud of each and every one of you. Through storytelling, poetry and letter writing, and so much more within the pages of this anthology, you stood up for those who can’t always defend themselves, those whose stories need to be told. You shared what was important to you. Your Voice Matters. Let it be heard. Keep Writing! The world is your creative writing three: ~ where you take the lead, where you get to choose, ~ where writing can be a companion and an outlet, a piece of you for the world. And please remember, when you get famous, dedicate one of your books, poems… to little old me… Sincerely, Mrs. Rose

Cara Malone Is the World Good Enough for Women? Dear Society, Ever since the first person walked the Earth, women have been a huge part of life. They carry children, take care of them, and do anything that men did not feel like doing. But women have never been treated fairly. It does not matter how powerful the woman, they do not get the same respect as a man would, in politics, professions, as well as everyday life. Women have made amazing strides within society, but to some men this somehow, is just incomprehensible. Women who are sick of these misogynistic ideals, get made fun of and get called awful names, just because they believe that they deserve to be treated as a human and not just a woman. As a young woman growing up in this world, I have realized something. No matter what we do, we will be criticized. You protest something that you believe in, you get called a performative activist. You post a picture in a bathing suit on social media, you are a “slut” or “craving attention”. If a woman is dating another woman, people will have things that seem nice, but can be truly destructive to them and their relationship. If a woman is happy, confident, or standing up for what they believe in, someone in this world will have something negative to say. But the second a woman stands up to someone for saying things like this, an immediate response is “is it that time of month?” We can not even use our words to protect ourselves without being “hormonal”. No matter what we do, there will always be someone who has something negative to say. It is not uncommon for parents to say to their daughters, “don’t put your drink down” or “don’t walk home alone at night”, but I have never heard a parent say it to their sons. A woman is taught to be cautious, but what makes them an easy target? Simply just being a woman. There are some things in this world that males will never have to experience and it is solely because of their gender. Even though men go through stuff women will never go through, it should give the idea that “I do stuff that a woman can’t do, so there is probably stuff a woman can do that I couldn’t”, but that is just not the case. They automatically assume that what they go through is worse, and I can't even think of a reason why they believe this. I would love to just go through a man's mind and see why they think the way they do about women. But, since I can't, I hope that one day, all men will realize that women are powerful, strong and deserve equal amounts of respect. Sincerely, A Young Woman in Today's World

Maddox Skigen The Dragoon Hiding among the trees and the bushes a squadron of dragoons wait. Although concealed by the foliage that consumed the floor, their positions could easily be compromised by the slight break of a twig or the whinny of a mount. One dragoon in particular, standing next to his stead, wore a round leather cap with decorative white horse hair that hung off the rear of his skull. His frock coat, a deep ocean blue, bore white facings that were caked in sweat and black soot. His waistcoat, the same color of white, wrapped tightly around his body. The breeches he wore were stained with mud, turning its woven fabric of light khaki into an unforgiving brown. His scalp draped with brunette hair was pulled backwards and held together with a black cloth ribbon. His teeth, a yellowish hue, his cracked lips, and a young boy-like demeanor, stared outward into the dirt-crusted pathway as he nervously anticipated the arrival of his foes. The day was warm, but not hot, the seasons were changing from summer to autumn. Every now and then, the leaves would fall, landing at their feet, making it once again difficult to secure the true element of surprise. As time had passed, the marauders in question came into view. They marched slowly, with their guards down. Their weapons slung around their bodies with their arms in front of them full of stolen goods. They had pillaged the souls of the neighboring town, striking fear into their hearts and hatred into their heads. All together, the dragoons raised their carbines and made ready. A single volley, that's all that rang out. It crackled through the air like thunder on a stormy night. The round balls of lead flew fast, speeding across the way hitting their intended targets with great force. Their bodies limply fell down to the ground with a mighty thud. Their weapons crashed to their sides, the fruits and goods that they had purloined rolled all over. Almost immediately, the carbines were slung back over to the dragoons’ sides and they had drawn their sabers. Their voices carried out in a formidable

manner. “Huzzah!!” they shouted. The young dragoon himself was now thrusted into the ordeal. Hesitant at first, he began to ride, forcing the beast underneath him to smash its hooves into the soft earth below, kicking up dirt and grass as he went along. The marauders struggled to organize themselves. In a hurried effort, some had managed to regain their senses and stand their ground, while others began to flee. The dragoons paid no mind to the struggle made by the opposers to defend the ground, charging right through them. With sabers raised, they slashed and slit their faces, arms and hands, spilling their blood like water. The ones who had stumbled and fallen, they would be trampled, their bones being crushed. Running as fast as they could, terrorized by the dragoons, the marauders eventually came to a standstill. Trapped between the river and the Continentals, the marauders faced two options: jump, or be slaughtered. Jumping off the cliff in an attempt to be free from the threat of capture, their bodies twisted and twirled through the air with the impact of the landing being cushioned by their necks, heads and shoulders. The young dragoon stopped dead in his tracks, terrified by the outcome. Eyes widened, surprised to see the choice that the opposition had made, he sheathed his saber and dismounted his stead. The ambush was a success, but, at what cost? he thought to himself. He was not just a dragoon now, his very own being had now become an instrument of war. There was no going back. Nothing could undo the horror, nothing could undo the shame, nothing will restore the previous belief that this act of violence was all for good. Yes, there was the feeling that redemption was put in place, defending the rights of the freemen who fight for this nation's independence and avenging the deaths of those who had been pillaged, but, how will one truly know whether or not this specific plan was for the better? Will one ever truly know?

Jared Kolodziejski A Shark’s Plea In depths profound, where shadows dance and play, A once majestic ruler of the sea, Now trapped in fate's relentless, cruel array, A shark adrift, with wounds too deep to flee. Once swift and sleek, in azure waters roamed, My fins adorned with grace, a regal crown, Now torn asunder, helpless, disenthroned, A hunter's prize, my sovereignty cast down. Blood taints the waves, a crimson trail I leave, Each drop a testament to pain endured, My breath grows shallow, desperate to retrieve The life untethered, now so obscure. Choked by the sea, its depths my silent grave, In fading light, I sink, a wounded wave. Yet as I sink, a plea to skies above, Let not my fate be swallowed by the night, But may my pain ignite compassion's love, To end this gruesome trade, restore what's right. For sharks, once feared, are vital to the seas, Balancing nature's scales with grace and might, Let not their slaughter go unseen, appease The depths where darkness feasts on endless blight. Oh, let my suffering be a somber call, To end this tragic dance, this deadly sprawl, Where profit stains the waters' sacred hall, And silence marks the fate of those who fall. My sinking heart implores, oh, heed my plea, That justice reigns and sets the ocean free.

Hazel’s Diary Entries by Mikayla Chirillo September 5th, 2023 Dear Diary, I had my first day of school today. I just moved schools, so I was really scared, but I met so many new friends. They are popular too. They invited me to their lunch table where the boys sit at the other end. It was so cool. I haven’t learned all their names yet. Yeah, that’s how many. I love the attention. They said I should model, but I don’t know how to do that. Most of them do gymnastics and they said I should join too and I really want to. I don’t know if my mom will let me though. I’m going to ask soon. Gia asked if I could go to one of their sleepovers this weekend and my mom said yes to that. It’s going to be my first one. Well, first official one. I’ve had friends sleepover in the past, but not an official sleepover party. It’s going to be so fun. I can’t wait. School is easy though. We never do anything the first day. As soon as I got home, I played with my dog Joy. She’s a big dog. Practically bigger than me, but I love playing with her. My mom made me a snack and I watched TV until dad got home and we had dinner. I just know tomorrow is going to be even better!!!! Hazel September 10th, 2023 Dear Diary, It was the worst sleepover ever. Okay, not really, but I’m so embarrassed. We were doing runway shows and Gia gave me some of her clothes, but they didn’t fit. She called me fat and the other girls laughed. I never thought of myself as fat. I never really looked at my body that way. I’m

just a little bigger than other girls, but it isn’t a health issue, but they looked at me as if I was disgusting. Why would they do that? I just watched the show after that. They were all pretty. Gia especially, since she kept saying that to herself in the mirror. I wish I could look at myself in the mirror and call myself pretty. When I used to look at myself I’d just see me, but ever since that night I see what they were talking about. I can hold my stomach in my hands. My nose is a little too big and I need to wash my hair better. It should be soft and shiny. We also did makeovers too. Kelly was the makeup artist. She’s really good at art. She used the perfect blend of eye shadow, blush, and lipstick on everyone. I heard them talking about the next sleepover, but when I walked over they stopped talking. When I went home I cried, but I’m better now. My mom took me out to get ice cream. Hazel September 12th 2023 Dear Diary, I joined gymnastics, but I’m not really good at it. All the other girls can do round offs or flips while I struggle with a cartwheel. Gia said I wasn’t meant to do gymnastics. I’m too big and I’m starting to think she is right. My coach agrees with her. She poked my stomach and told me that it needs some work. When I got home I asked my mom how to lose weight. She argued and said I was perfect, but she said that because she is my mom. No one else agrees with her. I looked it up and it said to eat less carbs and calories, but I don’t know what those are. They have something to do with what’s in the food, but I don’t know how to count them. I ended up just going to sleep. Hazel

September 13th 2023 Dear Diary, I told them to stop calling me fat, but they just ignored me. I don’t think they want me at their table anymore. None of them talk to me. I asked Gia how I could model, but she only gave me an evil look. I thought we were best friends. I then asked how to lose weight. She said to shove my fingers down my throat. I didn’t know what that meant, so I looked it up. I could never do that. I hate throwing up, so that was out of the options. I looked up the nutrients thing and studied that until I figured out how it worked. I am going to eat better, so I can lose weight. Just watch and see the next time I write in the diary I’m going to be skinny. Hazel September 30 2023 Dear Diary, Nothing has changed. I started eating less. I only ate 1,000 calories at most, but it didn’t work. I’m still fat. I still sit at their table, but no one wants to sit next to me. They never invite me to anything either. It makes me sad. I’m happiest at home with my dog. She is my best friend. I also like this new show that I can’t stop watching. When I was watching TV I accidentally ate too much food and threw up. It honestly wasn’t that bad. I hate the feeling though it did make me feel better at the same time. I did the same thing after dinner and am going to sleep early. I can barely keep my eyes open. Hazel January 3rd 2029

Dear Diary, Hi, I haven’t written in this for awhile. Writing in this diary made me feel guilty and ashamed at what I started at such a young age, but I have to confront it now. If I could tell my past self to not do it, I would. I’m in and out of the hospital. More in than out. I’m in the psych ward and it’s helping. They told me to do this actually. I’m not sure what to write, but I wish I could go back to the first day I wrote in this and tell myself not to care what other people think. I look back at my body then and only see a beautiful little girl. Those girls over exaggerated and only said what they heard from others. I’m far past blaming them like I did for a while. It was my choice, but I still avoid them at all costs. All those girls aren’t friends anymore anyway. I made new friends here who are going through the same thing. It’s a support group of sorts. They said I should be out of here soon, but I’m scared. I don’t trust myself. I’m lost. It’s an addiction and it’s more than probable I'm going to relapse. I feel safer here. I’ve been stuck in this loop for so long, I don’t know if it is ever going to stop. I want to do better though. I want to live my life. I want to find myself without this disorder hanging over my head. Most of all I hate the judgment or the pity. I need to break free. Maybe go somewhere new. This town knows everything. I’m not ready to go, but I know I have to. It’s time. I’ve been killing myself for so long, I want to live. I wish my past self knew what I know now. Hazel

Cameron Miele A letter to young women Dear young girls, We have to have a talk. I've been seeing a very big problem occurring due to social media. It makes me disgusted and I want to try to help. I've wanted to tell you that social media deceives you and does more harm than you think. All these people using photoshop and filters to cover up and change everything natural about themselves is causing false beauty standards. Young girls think that's what women look like naturally so when they are going through puberty and seeing their body change into a woman they feel disgusted with themselves because people don't show a real woman's body on social media. This actually will cause these girls growing up to have body dysmorphia and an eating disorder because they have been looking at these deceiving body types thinking that their bodies should look exactly like that. I want to talk about the boys too. They grew up seeing these girls on social media with a certain body type so their standards are very high. They start making fun of how girls' bodies look because that is the first time they are seeing a real woman's body that isn't edited. This world of false reality has caused detrimental effects to young girls.The world needs to stop being edited, take off the filters and the photoshop and show your real body for what it is, which is beautiful. We need to start normalizing real body types that are natural. We give Social Media too much power. The only way to see change is stop turning to Social Media and love your body the way it is. Sincerely, A Young Women trying to grow up in this generation

Kieran Meyer Driving Driving, It's something that has always helped me calm down. A lot of the time when I am stressed or overwhelmed I will just go for a drive. It doesn't matter where i am going or how fast or how slow but as long as it is just me with the car and the road i will be good. Feeling the vibrations from the motor and the small bumps on the road from rocks that have been kicked up onto the road. I usually always drive on either a small windy road or a long highway. If I go on a small windy road I'm usually angry and like to go a little fast acting like I am a race car driver and it just helps me get out my anger. Going around a corner at 50 mph instead of listening to the sign that says 20 always has helped me let go of the anger and stay calm because when going that fast on a road where if you lose control you will crash has helped me focus on one thing and just go. I also tend to go fast on the highway, not because I am angry and just need to focus on something but being able to pass all of the people going the speed limit in the right lane and feeling as though I am passing my problems without a care of what they are. Eventually those cars will catch up when I take my exit and that's when I will deal with them. getting that time to leave them behind and not deal with them at that moment has helped a lot and when i calm down or when i get back to being myself i will face my problems.

Annie Ormiston The Lost Soul Why did this have to happen? What did I do to deserve this? I think to myself constantly, trying to fight it when it hits. Tears streaming down my face I scream trying to set myself free from all this pain, all the hurt, all the fear from which you gave me. You pushed and called me names I just wanted it to end, to finally stop so maybe it’ll be better tomorrow or maybe again, it will not. I try to shake away the pain For I can’t as it hurts so much when I see the bruises, memories come back when I was touched I wish there’s a way to stop it A path to fill up this empty hole I’m trying so hard to let it all go, but my body has lost my soul.

Juliana Bellini Perfection, Isn’t it? Two true blue birds soar throughout the vast sky. Chasing tail after tail, one atop the other. Chirps their beautiful songs. Melodious echo ricocheting off the meadow. Emerald grass decorated with neon dandelions, sporadically placed upon its knolls. Look closer and you’ll notice the perfect pair. Dandelion Dandelion, Puff ball Puff ball. The coupled flowers emphasize its most wholesome stages. Not a single petal out of place. The sky, splotches of uniform clouds fade in and out of existence. Each drifting along the ocean of the atmosphere. Twin cotton candy delights, as white as the 5 lb bag of sugar in Sister Mary’s cupboard. Sweet as candy, hasty like wind to journey cross country. Zipping by, in violet blurs, the hummingbird gravitates towards the connectedness of the valley. Sweetness dripping from the cloud and flowing through the wind, touching down upon the gracious land. Each duo matched without fail. From the sapphire above, swooping down into the depths of the grassy below, they remained as one. Never separating, never leaving the other’s side. Together in perfect harmony. The wondrous symphonies of nature never fail. Never fail to amaze, to strike down in awe, to alienate. Cherries come in pairs, populating its tree’s thick branches with ruby red. Pits encapsulate cyanide, only two to kill. The magic of the wild, flawless Earth. Even bugs have soulmates. Every harvest, every season, every month of every year. Pumpkins, azaleas, turnips, and succulents. Cacti mirror one another in the heat of the desert sun, beaming down upon their wretched land as they deserve all the love in the world for conformity. Survival of the fittest, Social Darwinism. To make it, one must survive. Be exactly like the others. If not? Good luck. There’s no other way to put this prose. Even the orange leaves drift down in unison during the early autumn season, matching each other’s energy perfectly. The somber colors fade into the ground below, becoming one with the environment. To stay there and survive. To give the Earth more life, more oxygen to breathe, one must conform.

Release your inner desires. Just let go. The trees let go. They let go of those leaves come winter months. They serve no purpose, they’re meant to be gone. Just like you and your differences. What say you? How shall you contribute to society? You aren’t perfect. You aren’t normal. You don’t exist. Not in their eyes anyway. Not to nature’s deepest, darkest desires. Its candy voice lingers continuously throughout the meadow, singing siren songs into the ears of nature herself. Into a perfect world of two true blue birds soaring in vast blue skies.

Substance Abuse in Sports Substance abuse in sports has been something that is growing more and more every year. It was a huge problem back in the day but it is now starting to come back because there are new drugs that could go undetected in urine tests. A lot of athletes use different drugs to enhance their performance because they think what they are capable of is not enough for them and they belive they can do more by taking PEDS (performance enhancing drugs). The effects PEDS have on people is a lot bigger than just the fact they will perform a little better at the sport they play. There are a lot of different side effects that they can have on a person such as, losing more liquid then you take in, cramps in muscles, a faint feeling/ dizziness, drop in blood pressure, etc. Even though people may think they can help them, it will also have a lot more negative effects than positive effects. There needs to be more drug tests in highschool sports because that is the level that there is most substance use because they don't get tested because people don't think they can have negative effects on them. They might think that by taking PEDS they will have more of a chance to get recruited to a bigger college because their performance will be better but they don't know that eventually it will come back to bite them. As they get older and go into college they will realize they won't be able to take the drugs and the school will eventually see a slight decrease in performance from that person because they are no longer able to take PEDS. All because they wanted to cheat hard work they mess up their career and most likely won't get another chance. Why not just try to work harder instead of cheating your way through? Author: Micah Salisbury JR

Ivy Campo Love is lost Dear family members, ● Drugs have robbed me from you all, and I haven't realized the damage you guys endured due to my actions. ● Recently I noticed the marks on my skin, and the blemishes all over my body. Life hasn't been the best for me either. ● The past couple of years have been hard on and off the streets, starving all day needing money for food. ● I can't complain much, because my actions are what lead me there, but I beg you to hear me out. ● I want to try to explain that I suffer from a disease. I'm an addict. I try not to, but I just can't help it.I can't explain how compelled I am towards drugs. My body would kill for another high, that's how bad it gets. ● There are some things you need to understand though. ● I love you all for your acts to help me obtain purity, but I am no saint. I steal and I lie just to get another high. It's not right for this, I know. That's why I had to go. ● Staying far away from home made me realize everything I had. I felt the loss of family, friends, a home, a real life.I want to get clean, but my promises in the past tend to hold me back. Knowing that I have failed, makes me feel less worth it. But you are my family, and I will keep trying. ● I'm done hiding. I want to be free. I want to come back home.

● I'm willing to go to rehab for as long as it takes. I want to grow up with my siblings and a mom and dad every day after I wake. ● It breaks my heart to ask for another chance. I promise you I will try my best to not disappoint you all.Please meet me for dinner. I have a job now. I want to move out of Ava’s. ● I ask you all to focus on yourself, but to keep in mind I wish for a relationship with all of you. ● Never forget I'm an addict, but always remember I love you. Mija Perez Blinded It was 1:15 pm on my Tuesday afternoon when I was walking out of the cafeteria leaving aromas of pasta sauce and deli meat. I had woken up this morning extremely tired due to my awful decision to stay up all night and binge “How I Met Your Mother” for the fourth time. It didn’t matter though;, everyday is the same in this useless school, what’s being a little extra tired gonna do?. It’s now 1:20 pm and I'm walking to the school library so I can pretend to study for an exam in algebra today. But I already know I’m gonna waste the period away by queuing music and daydreaming about my same boring plans this weekend. I disregard those ideas anyways and keep heading towards my destination. Right as I took a step into the library, I heard a noise so striking even my mind couldn’t comprehend what I had just heard. My heart stopped while also dropping to my stomach, and the lump in my throat grew so large it seemed to cause me physical pain. It was like my body knew what was going on before my mind did, I started moving before thinking. Finally, my thoughts caught up with me and I knew the sound I was just alarmed with was a gunshot.

My hearing was muffled and my vision was blurred by the overwhelming ideas creeping into the inner depths of my consciousness. Shut the door. Lock it. Turn off the lights. It was built into me since the school enforced these drills weekly. Those drills I never thought would be practiced as not a drill. Hide, get into a corner unseen and sit down. Silence yourself, don’t even allow your breathing to be heard. I follow the steps in my head as the rest of the kids in there are doing the same. I notice the old librarian already cramped under her desk with her head in between her legs as if blocking her vision will somehow protect her. I hate the unknown. Am I protected by these walls or is it what's holding me hostage from safety? My life is now in the hands of someone who has the power to end it. I think about my urge to survive as I stay frozen in the corner of this library. It’s 1:45 pm and I feel my feet start to grow numb as the tingling sensation grows up my legs. The crippling anxiety I never knew I had started to eat me alive as the tears began to stream down my face. Questions circled my mind as my worry shifted into anger. How did this person get their hands on a gun? How were they able to freely enter our school? How did our school let this happen? Where am I ever safe? It's 2:00 pm and I should almost be done with the school day by now, getting in my car and driving to my safe place, my bedroom. I have not heard anything since the first gunshot so I’m praying with everything in me that they caught the shooter. I should’ve known not to jinx myself because moments later I heard morbid screams followed by more gunshots coming from somewhere closer this time. I clenched my jaw and held my fists so tight my nails created indents in my palms. I have a family, I have friends, I have a life. My little brother can’t grow up without me by his side, who will protect him? Who will my mom eat dinner with after a late night shift at work if I’m not there? I’m a sixteen year old boy, my life is not ready to end, it’s barely started. I run towards the door as I’m now in determination mode. I have the other students help me block the door using the tables in the room. We run back to our placements behind the bookshelves but as I sit down I hear the sound of desks screeching against the ground. Someone is forcing themselves through the door. This is it I thought to myself. I look around and see the

others whimper at the thought of who is on the other side of that door. The sounds get louder as the door bangs against the wooden tables and the presence of someone else enters the room. “This is the police. Put your hands over your head and follow me.” There was a sudden relief that shot through my system and caused my whole body to shake. I did exactly as I was told and made my way out through the school towards a safe spot created in the parking lot. Sobbs crowded me as kids were overwhelmed with feelings of worry and reassurance as they embraced their parents. I found my mother running towards me with her work uniform still on. She immediately pulled me in so close I could feel her body move from the cries she let out, ultimately causing me to break down. It’s 1:15 pm on a random school day, almost a year after the shooting, and I’m walking the halls toward my next period class. The bell rings and anxiety begins to fill my body as I slightly freeze before entering the classroom. A year later and I still hate the unknown, the wonder of if I’ll ever be fully safe again.

The Ones Who Went Before Us Kira Arnold Today we recognize women Our mothers, sisters, wives, daughters, and friends, all around the world. They come in all shapes, sizes, and colors To inspire us and propel us toward a brighter tomorrow So here’s to the ones who pave our way and guide us each and every day Katherine Johnson was a mathematician The first black female engineer at NASA despite men who told her she wasn’t smart enough She worked to earn her place and eventually her math put us in space Taylor Swift is an American icon bashed in the media constantly for personal choices and by those who want to tarnish her fame yet her success builds and builds, and she continues to play her music in stadiums that are completely filled Ruth Bader Ginsberg dedicated her life to women

She climbed the ladder of the American justice system until she found herself at the top, making real changes On the Supreme Court, she got things done she ensured women were valued, respected, and equal in the eyes of everyone So, today we recognize women everywhere and remind them they are strong and smart They will rise in the face of adversity and show everyone that they were meant to be here and to be heard We celebrate them overcoming barriers placed in their way solely because They are women, the brightest and strongest of us.

I Wish I Could - Alexa Riccardi The texture of my grandma’s couch scraped like sandpaper under my bare legs as I watched the boring news on her old, staticky TV. It was the 4th of July, a very hot one too. But I was stuck here at my grandmother’s house with my parents and little sisters. Meanwhile, my two best friends, Chloe and Katelyn, were living their lives to the fullest without me at the beach just forty five minutes away. So close, yet so far. “Grandma, can I change the channel? I'm bored.” I was dying to put on E! News, or TMZ, something about celebrity gossip. I’ve always been so interested in that. “No honey, I’m watching the news.” My grandma responded. Ugh. Today was going to be the longest day of my life. My mom sat down beside me. “Kyle, you won’t be bored for much longer. Dad is almost done with the hot dogs and hamburgers, so we can go outside and eat soon.” Just as she said that, the boring news switched to a commercial break. A movie ad replaced the news. Oh my God. Starring Timothee Chalamet. I’ve never seen a man so beautiful and gorgeous in my whole life. I want to marry him so badly. My eyes were locked on to the screen, but then I realized I had to look away. I can’t let my Grandma see me staring at another man. I looked down at my phone and pretended I was texting somebody. Hopefully my Grandma would think I’m texting a girl. She’d kill me if she found out I was gay. I’ve been wanting to come out to my family for almost 5 years. Yeah, I know. That’s a very long time. But, it’s just been so hard for me to muster up the courage. How would I even tell them? My dad would hate me, as I am his only son able to continue his bloodline. My mother

would disown me. I’d break my grandmother’s heart. My baby sisters would be so confused. They’d have to explain to their friends that their brother is a sinner that God doesn’t love. I can’t do it. I can’t tell my family the truth. Trust me. I’ve had the urge to just scream “I’m gay!” but I value my life too much. Sometimes I feel like they already know, but are just in major denial. I feel as though I make it so obvious, but they all just have it deep rooted in their brains that nobody in this good, holy Christian family could ever be a homosexual. My mom and grandma got up from the couch and made their way to the kitchen closer to the backdoor leading to the deck. I stayed right where I was, leaping for the remote to change the channel. Just when I heard my mom start talking all whispery and suddenly her gossip was more interesting than the celebrities. “Did you hear about the bill Ron DeSantis just signed?” She said to my Grandma. Oh great. We’re talking about our revolting state and its demented governor. Why wasn’t I born in Canada again? “I have to say, Sarah. The man knows what he’s doing.” My grandmother responded. Did I mention she is out of her mind? “He struck gold with that bill. And the ‘Don’t Say Gay’ one. He’s protecting our children. He’s doing the right thing.” She added on. I feel a burning feeling rising from my veins and spreading all over my body. I am fuming with exasperation. “I would never say this in front of my kids,” My mom leaned in so I wouldn’t hear her. “But if any of them came out as gay…. I’d probably slit my wrists.”

They both laughed. They laughed and laughed and laughed. Over something that was not even the slightest bit funny. I felt my boiled blood drain from my entire body. My face went gray. The feeling of hopelessness replaced that angry feeling I had previously felt. I turned back to the TV pretending I heard nothing, but I can’t ignore everything that my mother had just spit into the air. I never ever want to say that I hate my family. I feel like a terrible son and grandson. But I really fucking hate them right now. I could just get up, tell them that I heard them and that I am offended because I am gay, have them faint, and ruin their entire 4th of July. But I am not going to do that. I am just going to sit on this couch and pretend to be the heterosexual fraud I’ve been pretending to be for my entire seventeen years of life. “Mommy!! Granny!!! It’s ready!!” My sister came shouting inside from the backdoor. She ran to the living room where I sat with my tears pooling in my eyes. “Kyle! Come Out!” Girl… I wish I could.

Galaxyman By Atticus Jackson At the end of a vermillion stem a shallow orb is placed It is a droplet, a blue catacomb, oppressive in its vibrant unlikeless And curled in a shell of flesh The half-way slits of its atom beauties Where white bastions erode the smallest of minute fevers Upon the surface crash of its ever unseen glow It stares upward: An exaggerated impulse of it’s larger body Attendant to a set of electro-navigational transactions Which flip and dot with every scheming meander across the cosimos. It is this mind on earth This mind which sits in blissful night This mind which stares out to the tree-like branches of finality This mind which zips back between the aeronautics of imagination This mind which sees a man in the stars. Like the whiteness of an infinite dot; The mathematics of linearity, a derivative to spans of all space Pointed in without the wayside push of any larger sun Without any great brothers or gods or sulks Without a moment of rashness There sits a moon On that moon there sits a figure He is lit by the unreal engines of some unearthly luminosity Opposed and framed by no vessel By no figure where activity might reside By no pain By no longing By no memory or tether By no wind or mentor By no sand By no shore By no grain of sky Apart from space

Zelia Soto Surviving the Storm I shield myself from each malicious word that hits the surface of my skin. I imagine they are simply drops of rain falling off of my chin. In attempt to restrain my tears, my teeth sink into my tongue, holding my breath, with retaliative words filling up my lungs. Like acid downpour from the sky, it begins sinking past the barrier of my strength; My skin is no match for this storm. When his words can no longer tear away at my heart he uses his hands, pulling and breaking me apart. Once calmness is restored, and empty apologies are stated. I decide that I will no longer allow myself to be cyclically degraded. So I gain my voice back, which had been so unremorsefully taken. And like a phoenix rising from the ashes, A new me has awakened. I embrace the healing process

while bruises begin to fade and I graciously forgive myself for the clouded decisions I have made. I make a promise to myself to be treated with infinite worth by me, a narcissistic person, Or anyone else on this earth. Molly Gioia When I grow up I want to be a teacher When I grow up I want to be a teacher. I want to read books to innocent eyes Show little lives how to rise so they can grow to be wise. I want to teach them how time flies, explain why not to tell lies. Train them to improvise, guide them to compromise. But here lies the problem. I don’t want to hear their cries when a man in disguise unleashes a bullet that flies. I don’t want to stand there and watch when one of them dies. I don’t want them to know how to say their goodbyes.

Julia Trischitta A Little Girls World a little girls world / picture book by Julia Trischitta Page 1 - The doors fly open at the local hospital, the stars twinkle down over Korea. Page 2- A baby girl was just born 01:10 AM. a lonely mom lays weeping over her new baby. An exciting time to be alive, she just did the most precious thing in the world, gave birth to a baby. Page 3- Over the sea, through the rivers and through the valleys in America sits a husband and wife on their white porch swing. Humming along with the bees in the wind. Page 4a - “will i ever become a mommy to a little girl or boy?” Page 4b- “will i ever become a daddy to a little girl or boy?” Page - 5 The sun rises and then later they say “goodnight moon” day after day night into night still without a precious little one. Page 6- A room still empty Page 7a - 난 널 사랑해 자기야, 하지만 넌 세상이 필요하고 그럴 자격이 있어 그리고 여기는 그게 아니야 (i love you baby girl, but you need and deserve the world and here is not that) Page 7b- a tear rolls down her cheek, she knows that America will be better for her girl. She will always love her and would never think she would have to do this but a parent does what they think is best for the sweet child. Page 8- the phone rings “Hello” “Hi we have a beautiful healthy baby girl for you” Page 9- The car rolls down the street with excitement and love pouring out of the exhaust. Page 10- the dark-eyed baby stares up and gives a giggle Page 11- in unison they say “I love you daughter” “We will always love you and never forget you're always loved “

Page 12- That baby has and will always have a home and people to care for her, to watch her grow and expand. Page 13- the lights go out for Korea as the light shines happier down in America now. Page 14- a woman who is highly capable of knowing the best fit for her child's life now opens new doors for a family that's sad and pondering. Page 15a- 2 years later… Page 15b- “she's walking” “ oh my lanta” Page 16- With her arms wide she screams “Mommy, I love you” with a simple reply again “DADA” she belches out. Page 17- from one corner of the world to the other from one biological mommy to an adoptive mommy and daddy they both love her to the ends of the Earth and back. A happy home in their arms.

Last Four Heartaches By Farah Yarpezeshkan My first heartbreak hasn't happened yet. Unfortunately I live to tell the tale of all the heartaches instead. My first heartache stemmed from words. So stupid, why did I ever let words make me question myself? Especially the forsaken tales of a known storyteller. My second heartache blossomed from jealousy and betrayal. I hope you find that juxtaposition funny, because my emotions sure weren't. If Hell came to Earth for just one night, it would have been that disturbingly mistaken February night. My third heartache sprung up out of nowhere. Some may refer to me as a ninja, but this scenario taught me to dial down my psycho skills and learn how to communicate like a normal person. I guess not everyone is telepathic and always right, just me. My fourth heartache was rooted from insecurity and lies- and shockingly enough none of it was planted in my own messy head. My heartaches seem manageable, I'm almost excited for someone to try and break it.

SAT Maya juarez tunnel vision starts the second the book is placed in front of me do well or else you'll be criticized ridiculed thought less of never taken seriously your seen as the number you get your future rests in the math reading and writing your dream school ripped from you if your number is too low it all over the anxiety has consumed me my eye twitches I roll my ankles in 3s roll roll roll stop repeat i press my nails into my palms to revert my focus the questions turn into a blur of lines I continue on as if everything’s fine but im consumed by the fear of failure I blink and the test is over the fastest yet slowest three hours of my life now the waiting game begins

checking the portal every day until the scores come out. Curiosity- Logan Conforti “ A heart attack takes the life of 30 year old Kyler Hermin due to obesity.” I overheard the news. Which really made young me very curious. Hi im Logan and when I was younger I wanted to know why people were just dying from heart diseases and other diseases. Especially because some people in my family deal with problems like heart disease and high blood pressure. I overheard the news that day and wanted to answer my questions and learn enough to help family members, by keeping my family as long as I am healthy throughout my lifetime. I grabbed my laptop, hopped up on my bed and started to research. “What causes heart disease?” I typed up in the search bar of my slow computer. About a minute went by until the results came up. “High blood pressure, diabetes, obesity and an unhealthy diet” the internet read. Which led to me doing more research. 70.9 percent of men and 61.9 percent of women are overweight or obese in America, compared to 38 percent of men and 36.9 percent of women worldwide. The food in America leads most people to become overweight. For example Fast food is cheap, easier to get, tastes amazing. While healthy food is more expensive, usually you're

going to have to cook it rather than just stopping by a drive through, and most people do not enjoy the taste. America provides and promotes horrible foods for the human body. In the text I read it said “They note that 50 percent of full-service restaurant meals and 70 percent of fast-food meals are of poor dietary quality”. Therefore America sets a lot of people up for obesity but also a little self control can go a long way. After learning all this I had ways to prevent it from being written down in a notebook. Ever since that day I stick to a mostly healthy diet and keep my family in check.

Last moments Sean Perry Tears fall, glass shatters heavy footsteps, mushy platters Breathing loud for all to hear whispered when the culprit’s near The faint dragging noise caresses the floor As teachers stand beyond the door A familiar voice was once heard in that place Now they think he's a disgrace He falls to his knees in cuffs ruffed out by the sound of rust Flowers fall beneath the tufts where there lies the many people the culprit despised Bullets echoed down the hall you feel it as it was a crowded mall He said goodbye before he could but the doctors made him understood That life goes on and he needs help

medications and prescriptions tell but the boy he was once is a shell for now he's locked up and this is farewell.

“EVERYONE IS LOVED” Jack Ritzenthaler To whoever needs to hear this, I am writing this letter to let you know that you are special, unique, and deserving of love and respect. It breaks my heart to think that you may be going through rough times due to racism. but please remember that you aren’t alone. There are people who care about you and want to support you. Racism is a terrible thing, but please understand that it is not your fault. It is a problem in society that needs to be addressed and changed. You are not defined by the color of your skin or where you come from. You have the right to be treated with kindness, fairness, and respect, just like anyone else. It is important to talk to someone you trust about what you’re going through. Share your feelings and experiences with a parent, teacher, counselor, or another adult who can provide support and guidance. They can help you understand that racism is not a reflection of your worth but rather a reflection of how important you are in other people’s lives. Remember that you are strong and resilient. Surround yourself with people who uplift and inspire you, who celebrate your diversity, and who value who for who you are. Seek out positive role models and stories of people who have overcome adversity. It’s through their examples that you can find hope and inspiration. Take care of yourself both physically and emotionally. Engage in activities that make you happy, whether it’s drawing, playing sports, reading or spending time with friends. Practice self-care by expressing your feelings through writing or talking to someone you trust. Your emotions are valid, and it’s essential to process them in a healthy way. Always remember that change is possible. The world is evolving, and more and more people are standing against racism. It may take some time, but together we can create a better and more inclusive future for all. Your voice matters, and you have the power to make a difference. If you ever need someone to talk to or just a listening ear, know there are organizations and helplines that are available to provide support for children feeling the effects of racism. Reach out to them if you require assistance, and they will offer guidance and resources to help you navigate these difficult times. You are loved, you are strong, and you are important. Never forget that.

With heartfelt support, Anonymous Writer. To live in yemen trinity Vazquez To be gay in Yemen is to live in fear, Of a death sentence that is always near. To love who you love is a crime, Punished by the law and society's chime. You cannot hold hands or show affection, For fear of being caught in a deadly inspection. You hide your true self from family and friends, In hopes that one day the oppression ends. Your heart aches for love and connection, But the risk is too great to make a selection. You live in silence and constant stress, Hoping one day for more than just survival, but progress. The weight of the law is heavy to bear, For simply being who you are. But we must stand for what is right and fair, And work towards a world where love can prosper and heal the scar. Until then, we must fight and strive, For equality and love to survive. For all human beings to be free, To love who they choose, and just be.

Dear Football Dear Younger Self, I hope this letter finds you full of enthusiasm and curiosity, ready to embark on the journey that lies ahead. As I sit here, reflecting on our shared experiences, I want to tell you about something incredible that will shape your life in unimaginable ways: football. You may not fully realize it now, but this beautiful sport will become more than just a game to you. It will become a catalyst for personal growth, character development, and valuable life lessons. Football will not only provide you with moments of joy and triumph but will also mold you into the person you are destined to become. First and foremost, football will teach you the importance of teamwork. You will learn that success is not achieved alone, but through collective effort and unity. The camaraderie and bonds formed with your teammates will be unbreakable, teaching you the value of trust, support, and collaboration. You will experience the euphoria of victory together and endure the hardships of defeat, emerging stronger as a result. Sincerely, Timmy Jamieson

Greatest Gift by: Eden Rodriguez Love is life’s greatest gift, One beyond measure, easy and priceless But what happens when two lovers drift? And one’s life is now a crisis. Oh no she has fallen, deeply in love, With a hostile and belligerent man. Now she hasn’t seen blue skies above, But a violent marathon, she never before ran. You must leave my dear, she heard in her head Her mother’s voice spoke, reminiscing her dad. Remember, mama’s gone, she never fled From her husband’s abuse the reason she had gone mad. You still have some time, to run and get help Before he feasts his eyes on your most delicate heart. Know he will hurt you, with fists and with belts, Don’t let his fake love tear you further apart. Stay strong and stand up, for every unknown victim.. And you must save yourself, never trust the faulty system.