Literati 2020
Lit·e·ra·ti [ˌlidəˈrädē] NOUN 1. well-educated people who are interested in literature. Front Cover: Jules byRosie Firpo-Cappiello
Walking Away By Alyssa Magallon I am walking away from life itself From happiness, from laughter, From love. We are two magnets, breaking away from each other's auras. We don't want to separate, but the force of two human hands are pulling us away. I know it will hurt more to be pulled. So I Walk Away Photo By Marlo Gordon
6 Word Memoirs by the Literati Staff Daisy Lamb - I go to Maine every year Charlotte Fuchs - I really like to break the rules Mika Hughes - S ksk. I oop. Dropped my hydroflask Katherine Halee - Happiness is needed in this world Mika Hughes - T his memoir is good. I know. Amy Panitz - L ife long learning is my pursuit Karen Acrish - All day long, singing a song Marlo Gordon -\" Dying's easy, young man, living's harder\" Sophia Hughes - Waking up for school is hard Rosalie Firpo-Cappiello - one two three four five six Katherine Halee - People just do not respect punctuation. Daisy Lamb - Who likes Mondays? Definitely not me. Sophia Hughes - Tomatoes. The fruit of all vegetables.
Daisy Lamb - H arry Potter! Harry Potter! Harry Potter! Jill Warnke - Animals over danimals. Above humans too Daisy Lamb- H A HA HA HA HA HA!!! Annelise Ishkanian - L ife is good when you're positive. Daisy Lamb- I really, really, REALLY, want pizza Sophia Hughes - Hi, Ni Hao, Bonjour, Konnichiwa, Hola! Molly Fuchs - S ix words? Too much. Alyssa Magallon - T eacher, teacher, I need your expertise Maggie HoTai - Love is something that never ends Maggie HoTai - \" Talk less, smile more\"-Aaron Burr Linnea Barrachin - Me is the most awesomey awesomenest. Emily Buchsbaum - I am me, she is she. Leah Wahnon- I went into the kitchen. CHEESE!!!
Changes Mika Hughes Every single day of my life is exactly the same. I walk into school with my head down, no one talks to me, I don’t talk to them. At lunch I sit by myself. I don’t really like to get involved with anything, especially when it comes to sports. Phys Ed is my least favorite class. Well, least favorite isn’t the right word. I would say it’s the worst class ever. When picking teams, I know I’m always picked last. It’s always been this way. The team captains have to pick between me and Angry Arlo. No one wants Arlo on their team because he always gets super mad if our team doesn’t win whatever game we play. He also tries way too hard at games, and he’s the main reason we always lose. Even Shy Steff, who’s afraid of the ball in every game, gets picked before me. I probably get picked last because no one really knows me, and I never really contribute to the game. I just let everyone else do the work for me. It seems as though I can’t play sports, but I secretly practice at home, and not to brag or anything, I think I’m pretty good. I don’t really have any friends, except for my dog, Brutus, and my bunny, Carrot. I always tell them my secrets and what happens at school. I always told them the same thing; I would always be picked last in Phys Ed. Or maybe that would change… In the middle of the year, we got a new student. Her name was Talia, and she was really pretty and nice. She said hi to everyone, and I always got away from her somehow. I slip out of the classroom while she talks to a girl in our class about
homework. I hide in the shadows when she helps a boy pick up their dropped books. But she finally caught me. “Hi, I haven’t seen you around yet, are you new too?” she asks me. “Uhh… no, actually… I..I’ve..uh…” I whisper. “Ohhh! You’ve been here for quite some time I see!” I wasn’t really in the mood for talking to someone so cheery, so I whisper, “I...I...I’ve gotta..go..uh..see you around?” “Sure! You seem so nice! Oh! Before you go, my name is Talia! Ok bye!!!” I finally got away from her. That… horrible, cheery, upbeat monster of a girl! But she was kinda nice… At last it was lunch time. I go to my seat in the far, dark, drippy corner. I started eating my baloney sandwich, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Talia coming towards me with a lunch tray in her hands. She pulls over a chair and plops down next to me. “Hi again! What was your name again?” It just hit me. I never told her my name. I didn’t want to tell her a fake name, because I’ll forget it and won’t respond to her obnoxious calling. I had no choice but to tell her my real name. “I’m… uh… Cora” I tell her. “That’s such a pretty name!” she exclaims. No one had ever called my name pretty before. “Why are you sitting here alone?” she asks. “Why don’t you come over and sit with me and my friends!” I had no other choice but to nod and follow her to her table. Her friends, who I had seen before during school, stared
at me and whispered to each other, making quick and confused glances at me while they talked. I, as shy as I was, didn’t say anything about this but the voice in my head was shouting, What do you want? I just let the chatter continue until Talia told them to be nice. I could hear them mutter, “Ok… whatever” or “She’s a weirdo.” I just pretended not to hear them. For the rest of lunch, we sat in (almost) silence. The only thing we heard coming from our table was Talia gossiping and asking all of us questions. It was very awkward, so after a while I excused myself and basically ran away from the table. As I left, Talia shouted, “Bye!! Sit here again tomorrow, please!” Finally, the end of the day came. I walked home and tried not to bump into Talia again. I made it home and locked myself in my room. Strangely, I felt lonely. As if I longed for someone’s presence, but I could figure out who. Then it hit me. Talia. I guess she was the only one who was actually nice to me. I could hear her annoying voice in my head, saying H i! Sit with us at lunch, okay? Ugh. It was so annoying yet comforting. I lay on my bed and stared up at the dark ceiling. I could still hear Talia in my head for some reason. Her high voice gave me a headache. I thought to myself, What will tomorrow bring? a s I fell fast asleep.
Hanako by Rosie Firpo-Cappiello
Back to The Acacia Tree Linnea Barrachin As Landon, Darya, and Maibel walked up the hill, they heard a cry. This wasn’t unusual for the Amazon, but it sounded like someone was in pain. They all looked at each other and nodded. They were going. They ran back down the hill and ran to the direction of the sound. They heard the sound again and started to run faster… 2 Years Later As the 3 girls sat in Maibels library, they talked over what a boring life they had. “Ugh, why is our life so boring?” Landon asked. “It is not that boring,” said Darya. “Yeah remember our mission 2 years ago? That was really fun. But scarier, like really scary.” Maibel shivered. “I still wished we could have something more like that little thingy-ma-bob. It gets really boring not having anything to do.” Someone banged on the door to the library. “Let us in or you will be sorry.” The girls looked at each other. They had to get out of there. “Let us in!” the voice said. A different voice this time. The banging intensified. “We know you’re in there!” They quietly unlatched the rusting old window and slid out into the fire dense air. They coughed and ducked behind a barrel as the door from inside banged open. Shouting rang from behind as they scattered in different ways. They told each other they would meet up at the Acacia tree. They all hoped to find one another some other day in the future. Landon Oh god, oh god, oh god. How am I going to survive this, Landon thought. She was the one in her group who made all the weird and stupid decisions. Nevermind, she thought, she was probably going to die from the fire polluted air anyway. Darya Oh, shoot. We just separated. Our parents told us never to do that if we were going outside because of the poachers. I just have to be a potato, thought Darya, but no, that won’t help either. They will just mistake me for another old potato. I have to find my friends. NOW.
Maibel Um… okay? Why did we just do that? We could have just stayed together and everybody would be happy with smiles, rainbows, and cupcakes. Maibel shivered. Her signature move showed when she was thinking about things that were scarier than dead potatoes. Maribel’s next thought was that she needed to find food and a place to stay at night. Landon Landon started up walking 2 days later. She had found an abandoned shack that she knew her friends wouldn’t approve of so even better! Even though she knew it was a bad idea, it was the only place that had shelter. She had even found some berries that didn’t look that p oisonous. D arya So far, being a potato was not working. Darya got up and started to walk. She did not know what direction she was going, but she had some idea. She was the one who had thought of the tree to be their hiding place. Darya also knew the Amazon like the back of her hand. She knew that the Acacia tree was at the very center of the forest. She decided to go straight. Final decision. She got up, started to march and then started to run. She ran as straight as she could until she ran into a pit. She stumbled and cried out. She knew it. Her clumsiness would get her killed. Oh well. Maibel Which direction is the Acacia tree in? I think it was in the East. Maibel pondered over this question for a good 10 minutes and then decided to go to her left. Over the next 3 or so days, Maibel struggled to find food. She could tell she was getting skinnier and was getting sleep deprived. Although she was determined to find her friends, she needed to sleep. She slept for one night and got up. She was going to find her friends. She had to. Maibel got up and started to walk left.
A Sign of the Times by Maggie Ho Tai
Addicting Thoughts By Maggie Ho Tai I think about This sometimes, So how about we Think these words Together. I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive? I’m alive?
The Harpist by Rosalie Firpo-Cappiello There is an immense room, empty but for one harp. Maybe it was once a massive theatre, home to many performances and productions. Maybe it was once a ballroom, where ladies twirled in their dazzling gowns, and men cavorted in their crisp suits. But not to the girl. To the girl, this great chamber is and always had been hers and hers alone. She quietly opens the doors, and silently makes her way towards the golden harp, and she holds breath, as to not disturb the stillness until the right moment. She sits on a small wooden stool, and poses her fingers over the harp’s strings. Now, the whole room is holding its breath, waiting apprehensively. And then, she starts to play. Her fingers fly across the cords, plucking and strumming. Just by watching her, anyone could see the skill she possesses. The notes flow from the harp, expanding until her song echoes throughout the whole chamber. The song is sweet and sad at the same
time. The melody is as smooth and free as the sea, but as deep and grounded as the earth. The tune changes and grows, sometimes low, sometimes high. Sometimes soft, and sometimes booming. As her eyes close, the song seems to come from deeper and deeper within her heart, until she is the notes, the rhythm, the melody. Everything is one, and nothing can disturb this magical moment. Just then, from afar, the sound of church bells can be heard. Twelve times, the bells chime. The song screeches to a stop. As quickly and unexpectedly as waking up from a dream, the girl is thrown back into reality. As the door closes, the echoes of the otherworldly tune still rings through the walls. The structure sits until the next night, when the next song will be born, and the cycle will begin anew. But for now, the spell is broken.
Balefire the Arctic Fox by Linnea Barrachin
Biana Vacker by: Rosalie Firpo-Cappiello
Merry Christmas by Caitlyn Kroop A crash wakes me up on the night before Christmas. It’s coming from downstairs. I wait for a moment, just to see if yelling will follow the crash. Sure enough, not three seconds later I hear my dad’s angry muffled voice and my mom's high shriek of rage. Well, I wondered when the nightmare would start. They had been even more angry and tense than usual, which I didn’t think was possible. I’m not sure how they’d managed to get those giant moving boxes worth of presents, when they couldn’t even get along. Another roar of anger erupted downstairs. That probably signals me to check on my little sister. I sigh and drag myself out of bed. I don’t turn on the lights, the moonlight filtering through my half broken blinds let in enough light as it is. I look to the dusty mirror in the corner. Examining the person staring back at me. He’s tall with messy hair that hasn’t been brushed in months. Wearing monochromatic sweatpants with an old sweatshirt from some forgotten field trip a long time ago. I ran a hand through my hair; took one last look, and glanced at the clock. 11:52. I then proceeded to stroll over the creaky, dusty floorboards to my sisters room. “Knock, knock? You awake in there Katty?” I say from the outside of her door. “Go away Jax.” she says from inside. “And don’t call me Katty.” I open the door to see her curled up on her pink bed. Her pink pillow stuffed over her head, presumably trying to muffle the noise. When she hears me come in, she sits up grumpily. Her frazzled blonde curls hang tangled around her round face. “Sorry, Miss Kathrine, Rosavela, Trucker.” “Go away.” She said crossing her arms sassily. “Come on grumpy pan-“ BANG! Me and my sister both rush to the stairs at the sound of shattering porcelain.
“WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” My mother screamed, her face was bright red like a bell pepper and my sister covered her ears in pain. Downstair my father and mother were facing off. A lamp had been shoved over and a vase was broken in shards that were scattered around their feet. “MAYBE, IF YOU HADN’T FREAKED OUT ABOUT THE LAMP, I WOULDN’T HAVE TRIPPED AND BROKEN THE VASE!” Dad retorted angrily. Katty was on the verge of tears so I quietly ushered her back to her room where she fully broke down. I stroked her hair as she cried, and hugged her tightly against me. “Why… are..*sniff.. They always… mad?*sniff,” her words were distorted by her sniffles. I sighed and hugged her again. “Grownup reasons.” I said, smiling at her. Well, I hope I was smiling. “Do you get mad because of grownup reasons?” This time I really did laugh. “Of course, I’m a big highschooler.” I tussled her hair, “Not like you wimpy second grader.” She made a face at me, crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue. The yelling downstairs got a bit quieter, more like an aggressive debate. “Okay! Time to sleep!” “UGHHHHHH.” Katty groaned. But she obeyed, crawling back to bed. “Goodnight Katty.” I said with a smirk. She made a face back and I backed out of her room; carefully closing the door behind me. I went back to my room and flopped down on my bed. Staring at the ceiling, I hear my phone ring. 11:57. I look at the name, great, it’s our social worker. If she hears them yelling, no, she won’t because I’ll just ignore her. I waited for my phone to stop yelling, before relaxing, but then she called back, again and again until I finally had enough and picked up. “Hello?”
“Hey kid, how you holding up?” “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?” “Listen, it’s okay to be upset, lots of kids go through this, maybe you’ll even like your new... situation better.” “I’m sorry, can you please just tell me what this is about?” “Jaxon,” she was starting to sound impatient, “I’m talking about your parents divorce.” divorce The dark word echoed in my head... divorce The moving boxes… divorce The fighting… divorce It made sense.... My parents got a divorce and they didn’t tell me. My phone was clenched tightly in my clammy sweaty hand. I could feel the edges of the case pressing into my palms, and it would’ve hurt if I could feel anything. I didn’t feel sad, or angry, or betrayed, I felt nothing. It was like I was nothing. There was a deep emptiness in my chest that I could only feel the absence of. “I..I wasn’t aware that they... um…” I said through the phone. My words didn’t feel like mine. Is that really what I sounded like? So stupid that person sounds. No wonder it floated over his head. No wonder they didn’t tell him. Stupid boy. “Oh Jaxon, I’m sorry. I didn’t, I didn’t realize they hadn’t told you yet. I made sure to wait a month before calling you, so you could deal with the shock…” “Wait, they’ve been divorced for a MONTH? A nd I didn’t know.” Stupid stupid kid. Stupid for not noticing. Stupid for not asking. Stupid boy. It was a month and he still didn’t know? The signs were all there. What’s his problem? Getting his life’s information from someone he barely knows.
“Honey, it’ll be okay! Lots of kids' parents are divorced.” But I knew she wasn’t sure, because on the word “okay”, her voice quivered. “Listen, why don’t you talk to your parents, okay?” “Bye.” I said it ruffley and I immediately hung up. I sat back on the bed. My head in my hands. Stupid. I still felt nothing. There was an aching for me to figure out what happened, but it had been shoving down the hole in my chest along with all my other emotions. I didn’t even want to try anymore. What’s the point? Yelling came from downstairs again. And I mindlessly wandered down the hall to the stairwell. My mother backed into the corner of the kitchen. Telling my dad that he’ll “wake up the kids,” and to “shut his mouth for once.” My dad rolled his eyes. I couldn’t listen anymore. So I unfurled from my hiding place at the corner of the entryway. My shadow casted down on them till they both looked up. My mom's face shattered, and my dad looked disheveled. Tears were streaming from my eyes, but I wasn’t crying. You have to feel to cry. I felt nothing. I ran down the hall, over the creaky floorboards to my room. Slamming the door. And just barely, while I was in a state of flight, I heard my father’s words. 12 o’clock. Merry Christmas. Katherine Hallee
Blood Boiling b y Jill Warnke Cheers echoed through the city as the sun shone brightly in the sky. Balloons painted festive rainbow colors were released up into the blue, accompanying the white, pristine clouds. It was an absolute paradise full of joy and excitement. Sparkling jewels of elation emerged from a few eyes. That sounded nice, so fun! Didn't it? As if.. It were true bliss? *... We all wish that was where this would take place. Cheers echoed through the city? Instead came screams of anguish that seeped throughout the ruins. A lot of them came from those who were about to die anyways. T hey get bored really easily but of course, it was all just a game to them. But those cries only fueled the fires raging within every vengeful heart. Balloons were released. Splattered with deep crimson shades that held stories you would not like to hear. Paradise? This was a torture chamber feigning the disguise of a city. The annoying bits were the scattered fires that overtook the edges of the city. The unnatural and tamed, blood orange flames were meant to keep people from getting in or out. Along with the cause of the deathly hot temperature. Aren’t you excited? No? I guess things just don’t always seem to get under peoples’ skin… of course unlike other things in this hell. I suppose it’s just easier to not be afraid when you aren’t in the situation, huh. Crawling into your rooms at night. When all is silent. A scratch or whisper, from the door. Filling you with dread. Watch your friends, your home, your back. We all could be next to go. This is our dystopia. They are what keep our blood boiling.
Emily Buchsbaum An outsider... At the midst of fickle beings An outsider makes a change A red shirt in a white load. At the counting of the minutes An outsider shows true strength A sock in the underwear drawer Without its pair, the least bit fair At the longing for a closed sense An outsider defies the odds A label, which reads; fill in the blank. Photos by Daisy Lamb
Math of the Amazon by Linnea Barrachin
King of the Night By Maggie Ho Tai Brother told me not to take the shortcut home in the woods by the castle at night, but for some stupid reason I felt like a little thrill, and the adventurous part of me wouldn’t quiet down. I keep my eyes peeled as I walk through the woods, looking for the castle that Brother mentioned. I look up and I see a towering, charcoal gray fortress with a moat and an intricate claw design across the front. Once I saw the claw crests, I remembered why Brother warned me not to cross this path. The Dog Clan, led by the murderous tyrant Danny Dog, shelters themselves in this castle. Their razor-like claws and knife-sharp fangs were their trademark attack, and Brother told me his friend went down this path and came out with nine out of ten fingers on his hands. I try to keep as quiet as possible, to the point of not even breathing. I try to sneak back to the entrance of the path, when all of a sudden, c ronch. Shoot, stepped on a leaf. I start to do a quiet sprint, when I hear Danny Dog’s battle cry. “I’m the King of the castle!” I see his purple cloak and glowing white eyes, and stopping for nothing, I run for it. I know I have no chance, but I run and run and run. The Dogs, practically subspecies of wolves, take small steps when running, but they can cover a lot of ground within seconds. I’m running, and I feel a hard, hairy stomp on the back of my sneaker which causes me to trip. I see a flash of thick black, and then crimson, and then a sheet of darkness.
Photo by Daisy Lamb Spring b y Daisy Lamb Spring. That magical time of the year where fox cubs and lambs open their tired eyes for the first time. The time when flowers first wake up and open their petals to the warm embrace of the sun. Grass grows green in the soft sunbeams that float to the Earth as a gift from heaven. Life old and new springs up into the world, only to see the loving smile of Mother Earth, as she brought yet another beautiful being into the world. Spring, but then comes summer.
Summer by Daisy Lamb Summer. That magical time of the year when kids jump into the pool and splash the adults sitting above. The time when the sun beats it’s heavy rays down on the children who frolic in the freedom of the summer. When kids swing on the swings that dangle from the mighty oak tree that watches over the carefree child that roams the earth under it’s watchful eye. Summer, but then comes Fall. Photo by Daisy Lamb
The Monster Mika Hughes I took a quick peek through the window. Nothing was there. Nothing yet. I breathed out, realizing I was holding my breath. What was I expecting again? I had totally forgotten. Then I remembered. There was a scary monster in my house. I may sound crazy, but I saw it with my own eyes. A monster that stood on two legs, only about 3 feet tall but still creepy, with glowing red eyes that stared at you wherever you went. It would watch you, and then slowly creep out of the shadows, and tackle you and drag you away. Surprisingly, no one else knew of this monster, not even my parents, my older brother, or my dog and cat. Well, maybe my pets do... Suddenly, I heard something move. I turned and saw the curtains rustle and slowly open. I panicked. There was nowhere for me to go, so I tried to cover my head with my hands. The monster sniffed the air and sensed my presence. Then, it struck. “HI BEN!” I heard its high, raspy voice say. I looked up in terror to see it in a pink tutu waving its scary wand. “BEN, CAN I CAST A SPELL ON YOU?!” it cried. “No. NO. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” I sobbed. My mom came to the rescue when she told the monster to “play” somewhere else. Huh, who knew she knew the monster and was able to control it? I ran to my mom and hugged her so tightly. I told her I was so scared and that I had no idea she knew about the monster. She just laughed and whispered “One day, you will become so brave that you will defeat that monster, and one day you will understand Sienna was never a monster.”
Art by Rosalie Firpo-Cappiello
Photo by Katherine Halee
Photo by Katherine Halee
Somewhere in the Darkness By: Charlotte Fuchs I wake up tied to a chair, with a rough cloth tied around my face and a pulsing pain in my head and no memory of how I got there. Someone rips the cloth off my face, but the room still doesn't come into focus. I try to stand up but I am tied to a chair. Panic starts to settle in. Where am I? Who did I get here? Why am I here? “Help!” I call into the darkness. The only response is silence. Then a slow, evil laughter fills the air, and it makes my heart skip a beat. I know where this voice is coming from. My friend. Roman. “Roman, is that you?” I call into the darkness. “Maybe” is the only answer. Somewhere in the darkness, there is a rustle. It sounds like someone taking something out of their pocket. Is it Roman or is there someone else here? “ROMAN!” I call louder. I started hyperventilating, pulling against my ropes. Harder and harder until I hear a voice. Roman's voice. “Pulling will not help you, Jaxson.” he says in a diabolical voice that only wants to make me pull harder. Terror pulls in closer. All I want to do is run, far away, but I can’t. Warm tears start to run down my face,I try to fight them but they keep coming, faster and stronger. “JAXSON!”Roman says “If you keep thrashing around like that, I will see to it that whatever you are going to endure now will be far worse.” What am I going to endure now?” A fresh wave of panic surges through me. I need to get out. I instinctively kick at the sound of the voice. The last thing I feel before I fall unconscious is something hard and metal hitting my head and then I am thrust into a new type of darkness. Nothingness. I wake up tied to a chair, with a rough cloth tied around my face and a pulsing pain in my head and no memory of how I got there.
Nyx- by Maggie Ho Tai
Letting Go (a song) Emily Buchsbaum Growing up, Being smart Faraway from the start I try to find the road I know, close to home is where I’ll go. I am strong. I can fight. I’m letting go to find my might. Come on now. It is time. To know my feelings Not back down! Oh, Oh, I'm learning who I am Never gonna reach the end Oh, Oh Never ever gonna pretend. Nah ah. ) I am strong. I can fight ) x2 I’m letting go to find my might. )
Time By: Charlotte Fuchs Time is a funny thing. Only minutes before I was sitting at home eating popcorn out of a hot pink plastic bowl. But as Lira and I sprinted across the dirt road next to the highway, chasing the shiny white ambulance, with blaring sirens and bright lights, it felt like hours ago. Words are funny things. One word can change an ordinary day, or maybe even an extraordinary day into the worst day of your life. One word can send you running down the hill, without checking to see if you hung up the phone. Taste is a funny thing. Just a little while ago, I was eating popcorn on my couch. I love popcorn. But when I was sitting there in the hospital waiting room, the popcorn tasted bland and gross. People are funny. Some of them are evil to purposely hurt someone badly, and others put themselves in even more danger to save their life. Life is a funny thing. We can do anything with our life. What are you going to do with yours? Original Artwork by Maggie Ho Tai
No One Must Know Linnea Barrachin They had all loved him. They had no idea why. Now he was dead. No one really knew why Elon had died. Some had their theories and some just didn’t care. Although, here on the border of Kenya and South Sudan it was pretty common for people to go missing or die. Then again, Elon didn’t die or go missing. He was murdered. And nobody could know. I was determined to figure out this case. And as a part of the Kenyan jr. police force, I was determined to. It was my job after all! But then something went wrong. My family had to leave. We had to go to Sierra Leone. My family was small. Only my brother, sister and me. I didn’t know if they spoke French there, or if they spoke English as I did. My family was poor. We had lost our mortgage and couldn’t pay it back. We had to leave, and I still had a mystery to solve! I made a decision. I was going to stay. No matter what it took. I told my brother and sister I had to finish my mission and I would find them in Sierra Leone with the money I earned in my job. They agreed solemnly with a sad, distant look in their eyes. “The thing is…” Aman started. “We were planning on using some of your money to get us across all the borders…” I glared at him. “We were also going to use all of our…” “No. it’s fine. You can have all of it.” It truly was fine. I guess. “Thank you,” Zuri said. “We really appreciate it.” I gave them a silent nod and walked out of the house. The next morning, I walk out of the house and go to the police. I told them everything I had talked about last night
and they solemnly agreed to help my family get Sierra Leone. I have to start my work, I think, I will need to finish this mission and get to my family as soon as possible. I start to get to work. I search up Elon’s family history and all of his report cards from school. I went to ask questions about his family and asked all about him. The info I got was not that helpful, but it still revealed some information on him. Simple things like what normal people would do and what normal people can do. Nothing was that important. Except for that, he liked to carve wooden things in very unusual shapes no one knew what they meant. Some mysterious twists and turns, or complicated forms of spirals. One particularly interested me. It was one of nooks and crannies with sharp edges and looping letters. The dark and light grain of ash wood was swirled together in a very attractive way. The other sculptures showed only one kind of form, but this one definitely was carved for a reason. A reason that I was going to find out, mind you. * When I look up I see my sister standing over me and I smile at her. “Hi…” I say sleepily. “It’s the day today.” She says. To Be Continued…
Snow Squall Annelise Ishkanian The wind aggressively blew so much snow in my eyes I could barely see. It was like pieces of the clouds were falling down all around me. My hands were numb and I didnt even know how long I had been trudging through the snow without knowing which way I was going. But just as I started to give up hope I saw a bright red barn in the distance. Warm light lit up the one top window. Someone could help me get home! I ran forward as fast I could in the deep snow banks. “Hello!!! Person in the barn I’m lost and I need help getting home.” I screamed loudly but the snow seemed to mute the sound and I felt isolated with all I could see was white all around me. But then I saw a silhouette in the top window looking down at me. There was help! The house was a blue colonial with a bright red door with a beautiful red barn next to it. The horses in the barn whinnied loudly as I approached the door. They were like guard dogs barking for their owners. My heart raced loudly in my chest. So much that I thought it might jump right out. I banged the door handle and waited for what seemed like hours but was probably only a few seconds. A cloaked figure took by the neck and dragged me in. I was being kidnapped!
A few moments later I was dragged into a dimly lit living room and handcuffed on an ugly, red colored sofa. The air smelled damp like we were in a cave. “Be quiet or get killed.” The figure said grimly. He came back with a shiny gun and threatened to hold it up to my head. At that moment, I wasn’t sure whether to scream at the top of my lungs or stay as silent as I could. But then I realized, stupid me, how was I dumb enough to think that he wouldn’t just kill me anyway. I thought it was going to be the last of me but suddenly I heard a voice screaming outside. “I’m coming to help you, don’t worry!” Yelled the mysterious man. How was he supposed to get past this guy I wondered. The guy came barreling through the door and said, “Andy you can’t scare the heck out of this kid that's not our job.” I stared at them stunned, not sure what to say. “ Cut!” The director yelled. “Nina please act more scared you shouldn’t be smiling at your kidnapper!” Nate also known as “Andrew” gave me a wink and smiled at me. Photos by Mika Hughes
Kusekhona By Jill Warnke It was very late at night for a person to be about. Of course, time never stopped them from doing whatever such a reckless being wanted. The sky was pitch dark, not even the stars assisted the clouded moon in its light. The wind blew quietly over the lands and chilled someone’s arm, causing a sudden jerk from the shiver. Four people stood, towering over lumps of freshly tossed dirt. Something was underneath it. And that certain something must never be seen. Must never be found. Three boys and one girl were present at the scene and had just finished burying it. Deep. They left it there and wasted no time in heading home. “I really wish we didn’t have to kill it...” The girl, a brunette, sighed and folded her arms as she walked along the grass. “It was the only way, Bianca. You didn’t have to come anyways.” One of the boys replied, his voice stiff and firm. “That creature was unpredictable.” She decided it certainly wasn’t the time for her to crack some jokes. Reluctantly, the group made it back home, shovels wielded and covered in filth. A petite young girl, Onsomi (shortened with the nickname: Somi), with her unusual lavender color tinting almost everywhere in the brown depths of her eyes, had been waiting for them at one of their houses, hands clasped together. “Ah, hi! … Back so soon?” Somi tilted her head. “Oh… but… that’s where you are wrong.” She murmured. Faces full of fatigue swiftly formed into more
worried and shocked expressions. They knew better than to question the younger girl; She was always right about these things. And that wasn’t good. The water was rushing and the cloud-covered moon set a haze over the land. The earth suddenly shook. More and more violently. A hand shot out of the dirt and grass. Slowly, a figure unearthed from the ground, and that strange little lavender girl felt it. “You know… it was never really dead.” Photo by Mika Hughes
Photo by Literati Staff
Photo by Mika Hughes
Dystopia Chapter 1 by Daisy Lamb “Catherine?” A deep voice above me says. “Catherine, are you awake?” “Yeah” I groggily reply. I’m in a white hospital bed surrounded by all the other 12 year olds of the world. An old doctor with a white beard is leaning over her taking notes on a clipboard. Everything seems peaceful and quiet, until I hear the screams. A pair of twins are screaming at the top of their lungs, resisting the men's firm grip that drags them into a room. “ What, what’s that?” I ask. Bewildered by their screams. “Oh it’s nothing to worry about.” He replies. “Just some 8 year olds nervous about The Coma.” I try to reassure myself with his words, but I can’t help but feel that something is off. I’m put into a wheelchair and rolled off to a private room where I can then change into a pair of clothes I had brought with me. Everything feels weird, and I have to lean on the walls for support. I regain my balance and get dressed. I open the door and step outside. I see the twins, the girl is still screaming, but the boy lies sleeping. The girl looks at me with terrified eyes as a shot is injected into her arm. Slowly her screams die down, and she enters a deep slumber. The doctor suddenly turns his head and gives me a hard glare. I quickly avert my eyes and pretend to be looking for someone. I walk into the waiting room and immediately spot my parents waving at me. I sigh with relief as I walk toward them. My little sister Jane is running in circles around my mom, trying to get her to take the family to Wonder World, the ultimate combination of rides, carnival, and waterpark. “Maybe,” she replies. “Maybe we could go there as your sister’s welcome home present.” Jane answers with an enthusiastic,“Yay!” I look at her and wonder what it will be like to soon have a new set of parents. I am my parents' one child and soon Jane will be off to live with a couple who can’t have babies. We walk to the car and start to
drive home, but the sound of that girl's screams and terrified eyes never leave me. To be continued... Dystopia Prologue b y Daisy Lamb 3000-3012. The years of wonder. Everything is perfect. Or was it? No death, no disease, no poverty, no hunger. This is the world 12 year old Cristine grew up in. Cristine lives in a huge 4 story mansion with her own personal robot servants, a pool, and everything she could ever want, just like everyone else. But the world can’t overpopulate, so there has to be a way to control the population. Laws were set in motion to help this problem. Like how each couple can only have one child, and if you have more you either have to give them to a couple that can’t have babies, or they must die. Or the other law. Every 8 years each person is put into The Chamber, a system that sends each person into a deep coma, and when they wake four years later they are filled with all the knowledge that they would have gained in those four years, as they have aged as normal. Cristine has been in The Chamber once, and she actually just returned home. Nobody but government officials know what The Chamber really looks like, and only they will ever know. Before you enter there is a procedure you must go through. You have a microchip implanted in your brain that feeds you the knowledge that you are missing from school, and that is removed after your four years. The microchip also allows the government to track your past thoughts and memories while you are in The Coma. Now enough about whatever this is, it’s time for Cristine’s story. To be continued...
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Tammie Samara
mock poem inspired by sharon creech ---------------------- all you have to do to create a poem is make short lines. By Maggie Ho Tai
Photos by Emily Buchsbaum They’re Coming Mika Hughes They’re coming. Their eyes shine like stars in the sky, Their shadows slipping through the night, As sly as foxes, They Move through the city. They’re coming. As fast as light, So quiet you can hear a pin drop, As sneaky as a bandit, They Weave through the buildings. They’re coming. At last, they’re here, At their destination, Not quite in the city, Not quite near the ocean, But, They are near the stars.
Waves Mika Hughes The foamy waves crashed onto the wet sand. Any evidence of a person being there was gone. The light wind blew my hair as I stared at the horizon. I sighed and sat down. Seagulls patrolled the beach, scouting for signs of leftover food. “Keira, get off the sand! Your dress is going to get ruined,” my boyfriend Jax shouted. “I don’t care about this dress,” I replied. “Come sit with me and watch the sunset!” Jax sat down next to me. The trees waved and the sky was a pretty shade of bright orange. “This is nice, isn’t it?” I whispered. “It’s beautiful,” Jax said. As the sun went down and the sky turned dark blue, we walked home, listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach. Photos by Emily Buchsbaum
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