inkspill 2013-2014

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2013-2014

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Do you remember seeing all of those posters with INKSPILL written on them a thousand times? Hallways, stairwells, classrooms... Well, this magazine is the result of all of those posters and the many people who decided to submit their writing and poetry to the Inkspill magazine. See that dog down there? That is something that one of you people submitted. That dog wants you to turn the page and see all of the amazing work that so many other people submitted. All of us in the Inkspill staff also want you to turn that page and behold all of that work. Hey, have you ever thought about the page breaker? It's a hedera, literally “ivy” in Latin. The brief end of something and the quick start of something. Like this blurb end.

So what are you waiting for?

BLURB

Blurb artwork by Emma Xu Front cover by Evelyn Wu

Back cover by Aiko Martinez

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Tomorrow, by Cynthia L.....................................................................................................Pg 5 Being the Boss, by by Ethan M...........................................................................................Pg 6Weather, by Grace L............................................................................................................Pg 7Animal Situation, by Winona Z.........................................................................................Pg 10Elemenal, by James W......................................................................................................Pg 11Tell Me Another Story, by Anonymous............................................................................ Pg 12Bullies, by Henny H and Winnie S....................................................................................Pg 13Balloon Blast, Brightney P.................................................................................................Pg 15The Lion and The Tiger, by Emerson W...........................................................................Pg 19The Hidden Room, by Chloe H..........................................................................................Pg 21The Three Little Pigs, by Emerson W...............................................................................Pg 23The Best (Worse), Be Winnie S.........................................................................................Pg 26Sharks, by Ethan M...........................................................................................................Pg 27Life on the Human Journey, by Anna L...........................................................................Pg 28Death and Co., by Winnie S..............................................................................................Pg 30The Definition of Broken, by Jamie J...............................................................................Pg 32Gone, by Anna L................................................................................................................Pg 34The Flappy Bird Game, By Anna L...................................................................................Pg 34A School Without Students, by Chloe H...........................................................................Pg 35Chasing, by Linnea A.........................................................................................................Pg 37The Demon Inside, by Kanbra A.......................................................................................Pg 38Reality, by Kanbra A..........................................................................................................Pg 39Destiny, by Ryan S.............................................................................................................Pg 40Death’s Child, by Anon......................................................................................................Pg 43Ode to Blueberries, by Alex L............................................................................................Pg 46Once Upon a Time, by Chloe H.........................................................................................Pg 47 Haiku, by Alan K...............................................................................................................Pg 51Homestruck, by Alan K.....................................................................................................Pg 51Bunny and Kitten, by Elizabeth Z.....................................................................................Pg 52Never Wake Up, by Vivian Z.............................................................................................Pg 56The Tale of Harvest Poultry, by Alex L.............................................................................Pg 56Reverse Poem, by Ryan S..................................................................................................Pg 57This is the Night, by Naina K............................................................................................Pg 58There is a Girl, by Henny H..............................................................................................Pg 59The App Least Opened, by Alex L....................................................................................Pg 61

Poetry with a Flourish, by Selene Z...................................................................................Pg 62Blended, by Sidney C.........................................................................................................Pg 65A World of Machines, by Chris T.....................................................................................Pg 67Anchor, by Sabrina C.........................................................................................................Pg 67War, by Andie N................................................................................................................Pg 69Metal Man, by Gauri K.......................................................................................................Pg 72The Final Wave, by Sarah K..............................................................................................Pg 73Greed, by Ryan S................................................................................................................Pg 75My Day has Started, by Gernot T......................................................................................Pg 76Chemical X by Davy Z........................................................................................................Pg 76

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Editor-in-Chiefs

Naina Kaimal – Lord of the Rings. Books. Curiosity.

Jamie Jiang – Reading. Earphones. Outrageously Large, Warm, Comfortable Sweatshirts.

Winnie Sun – Murder. All Time Low.

Staff

Henny Horensky – 小胜利. tumblr. Travel.

Aiko M. - Broccoli. Internet. Art.

Alan Ke – Doctor Who. Fall Out Boy. Sherlock.

Alex Le – Eat. Sleep. Procrastinate.

Anna Ling – Milky Way. Poptropica. MC D’s fries.

Brightney Peng – Anime. Doodling. Alley Cat.

Cece Qiao – Manga. Anime. Imagination.

Chloe Hui – Vampire Dairies. Harry Potter.

Emma Xu – Doctor Who. Fall Out Boy. Sherlock.

Emerson Watkins – Fiction Writing. Anime Drawing. Basketball.

Ethan Mayer – Cats. Steam. Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Evan Sim – Minecraft. Graphic Novel Creation. Hiking.

Gabby Abando. – Harry Potter. Hunger Games. Doodling.

HyoRee Kim. – Vampire Dairies. Being Korean.

James Wang – Edge. Chronicles. Diary of the Wimpy Kid.

Jessica Feng – Doctor Who. Adventure Time. Supernatural.

Kanbra Aguayo – Manga. Amnesia. Fairytales.

Linnea An – Supernatural. Animals. Tumblr.

Mike Baik – Being Korean.

Ryan Sun – Tanks. War. Death.

Ryan Sze- Technology

Supervisor

Chris Herzberg

Staff Page

A couple years back, we messed up pretty

badly with Maya Lu’s cover

submission. Sorry!

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Allow it to wash away pain

As each bead falls

Would there be a soothing melody

From tweeting birds’ singsong

Preaching to the world in clarity

That summer has come along

Would a splash of cool water

Soak a vibrant daisy,

A respite from the scorching weather

That is boiling crazy

I often wonder

What tomorrow would hold,

Will there be clashes of lightning, blasts of thunder,

Or the rush of winter’s cold

Would the whole world marvel

At the stars in the starry sky,

Or will there be complete darkness

A single CireCly

Would the sound of a hush

Be masked,

With the rush

Of honking cars trapped

Or would everything be still

Still as a radiant sun

Gleaming upon a blooming daffodil,

Displaying spring has Cinally begun

Would there be rain!

Showering squall,

TomorrowBy Cynthia L.

Artwork by Emma Xu

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Imagine a set of minions, a very own set of minions that you control. Just let that sink in. What are the things that you can make the minions do. “Make me a sandwich”, “Make me a rocket launcher”. All the possible things for you to say to them. On the other hand you will get a lot lazier because you are relying on other people to do your work. But just imagine that you are getting people to work for you, you will feel like a boss. Controlling everyone. The only thing that stops you is that the minions are only here for a week, so don’t let that get to your head. If I had a set of minions I would make them do things I could never do. “Solve this math problem”, “Make an atomic bomb” You would see yellow bodies wearing Overall it would be pretty great to have minions for a week.

Or would the Cirst leaf drift,

Slowly, gently, down a zone

A stunning shade of auburn

On the grass, alone

Would the wind’s harsh blow

Come rushing with a sneer

Hinting that winter snow

May be all too near

Seasons they pass

Not a moment to spare

Live life to its greatest mass

For tomorrow you may not be here

Being the BossBy Ethan M.

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August 22, 2156. Atlantis.

“Citizens of Atlantis! Today we are celebrating the 25th anniversary of our city. Tonight there will be special festival to celebrate at Singing Sparrow Plaza! Everyone is invited!” The announcement vibrated throughout the crowd, invoking excitement. Holograms of Psych appeared from the tattoos on hands, friends arranging to attend the festival together. Jax stood at the edge of the boisterous crowd, glancing at his own tattoo. It was the symbol of Atlantis, a key, with extravagant designs adorning the sides. It stood for knowledge, freedom, and ability. Every citizen in Atlantis has one. The key blinked blue, and suddenly projected a hologram.

New message received

“Open message,” was the only response Jax gave.

Sender: Arvid

Title: Festival

Message:

Are you going to the festival? I heard that they are giving out free prizes! Can you come with me, please?

Jax was not amused. He still had homework to finish, due tomorrow. He didn’t have time to go and play when there was a test coming up. Arvid could find someone; he didn’t have time. “Reply,” Jax muttered.

Receiver: Arvid

Title: Re-Festival

Message:

Go yourself.

Satisfied that he could get his message across, Jax said, “Se-“, and stopped when he felt someone hang their arm across his should.

“Arvid,” Jax grumbled.

WeatherBy Grace L.

Artwork by Gabby Abando

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“I knew you would deny! You’re no fun!” Arvid complained.

“If you knew, why would you bother?” Jax crossed his arms and glared at Arvid, who whimpered and shrunk back. Finally gathering up courage, Arvid glanced at him pleadingly.

“Please?” He begged, pulling at his sleeve. Jax tried to glare, but it was futile.

“Fine,” he sighed. Arvid grinned wide.

“Alright, now we need to dress you up, because-” Arvid tugged at the black shirt Jax was wearing, and made a face, “-that is no good. You’re celebrating the anniversary of the city, not the funeral of your dog. Besides, you always dress in black!” Arvid rambled on, and dragged Jax to the nearest clothing store. “A suit will be better, it’s more formal. And I think I should get one too! Jax rolled his eyes, but Arvid continued. He grabbed a few suits, threw them at Jax, pushed him into the closest changing room wishing him good luck. Jax slumped against the wall, scowling at the suits as if it was their fault. Finally, he decided on the plainest gray suit; he unlocked the door and was immediately bombarded with questions.

“Which one do you like? Do you like any of them? Are they comfortable? Do you think I should buy this? What color do you think is better?” There may have been more, but Jax gave up on trying to understand them.

Jax held up the simple gray suit and said, “I’ll get this one.”

He came out of the store in a formal, polished ebony suit, a white dress shirt, and a tie.

By the time Jax and Arvid arrived at Singing Sparrow Plaza, the festival had already started. Situated in the center of the circular city, the plaza surrounded the city hall, which was a large, spiraling, ivory tower, and at the peak of the building, a projected hologram of the key illuminated the darkening sky. The plaza split into four main roads of the city going north, east, south, or west. Stalls filled the streets and plaza, with people ambling

luxuriously in between. Colorful banners advertised the birthday of Atlantis. The aroma of goods waltzed in the air.

“I know we have this every year, but it never gets old,” Arvid remarked, gesturing at the spectacle before them. Suddenly, the key on Jax’s hand turned blue, and a hologram appeared.

New message received

“Open message.” The light flickered, and the message appeared.

Sender: Mother

Title: Urgent! Come quick!

Message:

Hurry! Aurora’s in the hospital! Come quickly!

Jax frowned, worried. Arvid peered over his shoulder, and eyes widened when he saw what was in it. Jax had always been fond of his younger sister, but she had a disease even their advanced technology couldn’t cure. Arvid ran after Jax, who had already taken off. They were lucky that they were in the center of the city, as the main buildings were near. The hospital wasn’t far, but pushing through the crowds of people all the way until the building loomed before them was tiring. They burst into the blinding white lights of the hospital. Jax’s mother greeted them, anxious.

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“She’s in the emergency room,” she muttered, weary but worried. Jax didn’t say anything. He collapsed into a chair and closed his eyes. His mother sat next to him, sighing. Soon, she appeared to be asleep, and Arvid left. Jax noticed him leave, but didn’t say anything.

They had spent the night in the hospital awaiting news about Aurora. It was early afternoon when they got it.

“Are you Aurora’s family?” The doctor asked, glancing up from the clipboard he held.

“Yes,” his mother hurried to reply.

“I’m afraid we can only do so much for her. She might be able to hear you speak, but she can no longer see, move, or breathe. She is living off of our machines right now.”

“Will she live?” Jax cut in. The doctor looked startled that he had spoken.

“She will, but only in our hospital,” the doctor said solemnly. “You have two options so far. She will live, but for only about two months. Or, we can close off the machines.”

“You mean she’ll die.”

“I’m afraid so.” Jax’s mother stumbled forwards and pressed her face against the glass.

“C-can we g-go see her?” The doctor nodded. Jax’s mother stepped inside, but Jax didn’t go in. He only leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

“Big brother, isn’t the weather nice today?” a soft voice asked Jax. She stood leaning against the balcony rail, wind tousling her hair.

“Aurora, get away from there. You might fall.” She laughed at this, turning around and calling him an old, worried granny.

“If I did fall, anyways, I’ll grow wings and fly. Fly away from here to somewhere where the air does not have to be filtered and the water is pure. Somewhere where the ancient trees tell stories of before each and every one of them had to be planted artificially. Somewhere where the wild animals roamed free. Somewhere where the weather was nice everyday, like today.” She smiled and turned back to the breeze.

The weather wasn’t nice today, Jax knew. The wind was too cold and the sun was too dim and the clouds dyed the skies gray. But it wasn’t literal. It never was with Aurora.

She often used the weather to describe her mood. When she was mad, it was thundering. When she was sad, it was raining. When she was happy, the weather was nice.

Jax’s mother came out, cheeks wet from crying. She moved aside to let Jax to go in, and sat down, trying to wipe away her tears.

Aurora lay on the hospital bed, an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. Her eyes were closed, blanket drawn over most of her body. At her bedside, a chair was pulled up where her mother sat, and now where Jax sat.

“Aurora,” he whispered, a lone tear rolling down his cheeks. “Yesterday was the anniversary of Atlantis. You should’ve seen the chocolates! And the stuffed animals! You would’ve loved it. You shouldn’t have fell asleep so early!” he scolded, and he managed a weak, watery laugh. “The weather is fine today, isn’t it?” Jax laughed again, and soon, somewhere in between, he was crying and crying and crying. “Aurora, the weather is fine today.”

“It was the symbol of Atlantis, a key, with extravagant designs adorning the sides.”

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The sheep was an awful loner, so it surprised everybody when she announced she had a date for Valentines. It was the turkey’s idea to make a dance party where all animals dance with their dates and have fun. But the only thing is that each couple was to give each other presents and to other couples too. So the sheep has to earn enough money. But Sheep hated buying things for other people and her date only agreed to be couples when sheep said she would pay for all the prices. What can I do? Thought the sheep.

Suddenly a master idea popped into her head, what if I steal some money from each farmer’s house? Then at the end I’ll turn up on valentines dance with really crappy gifts but I will receive some high priced gifts from everyone else so that will be such an advantage to me. Sheep was so proud of herself thinking about this master idea that she started moving right away. The first stop was the Dickson’s farm; he was the poorest but clumsiest farmer in the whole village. It won’t be a big deal to find a coin or two lying around on his farm. Guess it was sheep’s bad luck day, she only found 1 cent there even after she searched every single inch of the farm. Sighing she walked away to Uncle Smith’s house.

There she was seen as an intruder to all the other animals, after a long battle they all awoke Mr. Smith who grew on fire when he saw Sheep in his chicken farm. Sheep leaped out and shot back to her farm. 1 cent for sheep meant a dollar to humans, only enough to buy a bad candy. I guess that’s all that I’ve got, sheep sighed, and it will just have to do.

The next day sheep woke up before anyone else did and crept out of the farm to go to the town and buy a present. Sometimes the luck just runs to you as she found $10 on the ground. “This is awesome!” she cried, “Its enough to buy so much food that it will last for a month!” But the other part of sheep thought, that she could use this money to buy a good present for the dance. I’ll use $1 to buy the present and $9 for chocolates. But by the time she walked to the cashier her chocolates cost $9.25 so she pays it and receives $.75 back. She went over and got really bad things like some straw and pays all the money she has got left.

Valentines was almost arriving so sheep separated her haystack into 2 piles and tied them up with a ribbon that the child of the farmer dropped. Sheep could have traded all her presents for a pretty delish snack. But that bit of money was a bit of her surplus so when the farmer really decides to kill her for meat, she could take the money and run far far away. The other animals like the donkey hid such a big box under a haystack that it wouldn’t even cover up. Sheep got really excited waiting for her own present, what could it be? She thought, a 1 month of yummy food or some chocolates or chips. The best would be a bicycle so she could leave this old and useless place.

Valentines rolled in the next day and all the couples dressed formally to enter the royal ballroom. Sheep with her couple went bringing 2 presents with them, and of course no one knows what is in the box but sheep. Sheep was exchanging gifts with the donkey couple and it was their turn to give the gift first. The sheep handed the box of hay to donkey and told him to not look until tomorrow. The donkey shook with excitement and handed sheep the big box. He also told her to keep it a secret until tomorrow. The dance was a huge success and a lot of animals won ruffle prizes but sheep couldn’t care less about that because she was too focused on her little gift from donkey.

The dance soon passed and it was finally time for sheep to open up her gift. The big box was so pretty that her

eyes shined when she took it from her hiding place. Lifting the cover slowly, sheep awaited for the glamorous present. Her eyes were filled with question when she saw the box was empty. In the corner there’s a small note saying: “ha! Loser but happy valentines!” What I gave a crappy gift but received nothing? Thought the

sheep. The other animals were all happy with nice gifts. Sheep was so miserable that she wished she could have spent the $10 so she could receive a better gift. Whatever now, time can't spin back, next time a dance happens count me in first!Valentines was almost arriving so sheep separated her haystack into 2 piles and tied them up with a ribbon that the child of the farmer dropped. Sheep could have traded all her presents for a pretty relish snack. But that bit of money was a bit of her surplus so when the farmer really decides to kill her for meat, she could take the money and run far far away. The other animals like the donkey hid such a big box under a haystack that it wouldn’t even cover up. Sheep got really excited waiting for her own present, what could it be? She thought, a 1 month of yummy food or some chocolates or chips. The best would be a bicycle so she could leave this old and useless place.

Animal SituationBy Winona Z.

“What if I steal some money from each farmer’s house?”

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Artwork by Emma Xu

Then, cackling the Emperor left without a trace. Leaving three smouldering, but living bodies to die.

(Check website for more)

ElementalBy James

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Tell me another Story

One about a trail of bread crumbs


One about a beautiful princess with golden hair that would strech for miles


One about a kind, loving girl who lost one glass shoe


One about a princess with raven dark hair, snow white skin, and cherry red lips


One about a little mermaid who wished to be human


One about a cursed prince with the lifespan of a rose


One about a curious young girl who fell into a rabbit hole


One about a boy, a giant, and beanstalk

I know every Story yet

So why don’t you tell me

A story yet spoken

A story yet known

Start from

Once upon a Time

Tell Me Another StoryBy Anonymous

Artwork by Chloe Hui

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Adults always tell us

Over and over again

‘Be kind, be selfless

Treat those how you wish to be treated’

And I suppose we don’t ever get the message

Because nothing ever changes

That kid down the street

He dresses like they dress

He plays like they play

He speaks like they speak

But he doesn’t love like they love

And so he’s persecuted

That girl two lockers down

She walks like they walk

She smiles like they smile

She cries like they cry

But she doesn’t weigh what they weigh

And so she’s oppressed

That boy in math class

He thinks like they think

He works like they work

He draws like they draw

But he isn’t colored the way they’re colored

And so he’s tormented

That friend countries away

She laughs like they laugh

She bleeds like they bleed

She dances like they dance

But she doesn’t have clean wrists like they have clean wrists

And so she’s intimidated

Words are powerful

They can save or take a life

So choose them wisely

Please

Bullies

By Henny H. and Winnie S.

14 Artwork by Emma Xu

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I held the basket of flat balloons in my arms tighter. I could feel the sense of anticipation growing in the pit of my heart, increasing rapidly. It was the school fair, the day when everyone participated with the activities and

took the day off just enjoying, having fun. I couldn’t wait, and the excitement took over. I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Okay, okay, listen up here please. This is the first year our class will get to be in charge of an activity and gain money for charity, and remember, while some of you roam around the fairs, there still need to be a few people

watching the place. Since we are managing a water balloon activity, Derek, the game target for the customers throughout the whole day will have to stay, unless there are necessary rests needed. Brightney, Jessica, and

Katherine brought balloons for water-filling later.” The teacher paused for a moment to get a drink of tea, also to place the baskets of balloons on the stage platform in front of her.

As the noises and chatters outside clamored and grew louder, the teacher became aware that it was time for us

to get moving. We were second grade, and we finally got a chance to manage an activity instead of wandering the fair like we did in kindergarten and first grade. It would still be a few years before we get to be in charge of a food

or objects selling business inside the stalls, but right now, this did not matter. All we desired was to start vending water balloons to the customers who would target it at our unlucky classmate, Derek. The teacher clapped loudly

two times while I was still in my state of daydreaming, then finally, she smiled and sighed.

“Off you go. Make sure to trade off good deals.”

We burst open the door and flooded out of the classroom,

doors swinging against the wall as we joined the others on the field. The dazzling sun beamed across the whole school, making grass and leaves glimmer. Our class went to the spot we were supposed to be set: the space behind the two cotton

trees planted in the southwest side of the field, few feet away from the tracks. All of us were ready to go. The target with a wiggly drawn bullseye in the center of his white shirt was standing fearlessly prepared in front of the cardboard.

Some others were raising signs and shouting promotes of our balloon activity. I was nervous yet excited while Katherine, Jessica and I filled the balloons with water. I was a bit careless, so when I opened the faucet, the water

sprayed so hard against the sink that it sprinkled all over my face and glasses I almost inhaled a few water drops and had to T.O. to go dry up a little. In the end, all of us got prepared and the principal announced the start of the fair through the

speakers positioned in the ceiling corners around the school.

Gradually, the fields and the tracks became swarmed with

people. Laughs, screams, trots, darts, sounds and figures filled the whole first floor and created the animated atmosphere. All the students who were in charge of activities or stalls, from elementary to high school, were all

shouting and advertising their business, attracting curious

Balloon Blast

By Brightney P.

“I couldn’t wait, and the excitement took over. I couldn’t stop smiling.”

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and empty-stomached consumers. Seeing the parents, students taking out their purses to pay for the delicious hotdogs or honeyed cotton candies, I felt a great pressure of competition as I shouted more to pull some customers

to our business. About half the class was gone and roaming the fair, eating or playing. Finally, at the

corner of my eye I saw someone coming. I was just about to greet the figure with a grin when—

Sigh, it was our Chinese teacher.

I facepalmed, but still welcomed our very first

customer. She handed a NT$100 bill to me. Others hurriedly carried the baskets of full water

balloons to our teacher, but she just shook her head.

“These money are for starters. You guys could do it!” She encouraged us with her right fist rising towards the sky, then she smiled, turned around, and left.

“Man, that was boring. She paid free money to us.” Derek snorted a bit. A few other boys agreed with slight nods of their heads.

“Shut up. She was pitying you, be thankful.” I rolled my eyes and deposited the money into the class fundraiser box. Derek rolled his eyes and went back to his position in front of the cardboard leaned against one of the giant squared

pillars supporting the second floor hallway above us. I stood and waited, until finally two students who wore sixth grade

uniforms of our school came towards our side.

I swiftly turned around to meet them. “NT$10 per balloon, ma’am.” One of them took out her purse and handed a fifty NT

$ coin. “That’s cheap for beating up a jerk.” She grinned. A few other girls agreed with her. I laughed and briskly picked up

six balloons by their knots.

“One more for good luck.” I

smiled and handed her the water balloons.

She nodded towards me slightly, closed her left eye, and

rotated her swinging arm 360º with the balloon towards Derek. He recognized her as the girl who always quarrel-joked him on the bus. His face stayed shocked for a moment, but the next second he returned to his normal

teasing face.

“Haha, just you? You think you could aim? Stop kiddi–” the

balloon flew out of the girl’s hands abruptly, pinpointed right towards Derek’s face. It was thrown so firmly that it

Artwork by Anon

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blew up when it slammed into his nose. After the explosion, Derek stood blank for a long time, and the others were laughing so hard that they could hardly breathe. Even I burst out laughing so long that I had to

kneel down on my knees and bend over to stop laughing. Finally, after a long one minute, he reacted and pointed towards the girl angrily.

“YOUUU ARE SO GOIN’ DOWN, YOU–” again, right when Derek was about to finish his sentence, the girl threw another balloon towards the bullseye drawn on his

shirt and it hit him so hard he bent over nearly howling. Another, another, the girl kept throwing balloons at his feet, arms, shoulders, more times on the face, making him yelp louder. Finally, the girl was down to the last lucky

balloon that I gave her for free. She pinpointed it at Derek and hurled it in his direction. Unfortunately, I could see the line of where the balloon would probably land. Right in his hands. He was smirking but when he caught the

balloon—

PONG!

The whole balloon exploded in his hands because he gripped the balloon too hard. There were other customers watching now, many laughing and pointing at Derek with

their trembling fingers. The girl turned around and walked away, cracking up so much that she almost tripped. I tried throwing the NT$50 coin in the deposit box, but I missed. I was laughing too hard.

It was nearly noon after the “balloon explosion” incident, and though there were more customers drawn to our

place now (thanks to the girl who was Derek’s adversary), I still needed to eat. I could feel my stomach

rumbling, so I grabbed a few friends with me and headed towards the immense area of food stalls on the outdoor basketball court. After a carton of spaghetti, I bought another fruit ice to share with my friends, also a great fluffy

stick of cotton candy to eat. I participated in basketball, tried shooting balloons with safety darts, hooping prizes with colorful rings, everything. I rambled around the fair later by myself, since I just mystically got separated from

my friends. Well, I could always go back to find them later.

I was traveling back up the stone steps to the field when I

saw a person with a cardboard box in front of him. My eyes shone. I speedily ran up the stairs and went to that person. He turned around and smiled.

“Only NT$5 for poking a prize! Wanna give it a try?”

I nodded and nodded. I gave him the NT$5 coin and he held

out the big flat cardboard box. The big flat cardboard box had squared areas organized out under the cover of a paper. Each one had a prize, and the paper cover above each area matched the same size of the square and had different

illustrations on them. I didn’t quite know how to explain it. I looked around, searching for a small square space that has a fancy top sticker over it. Eventually, I poked one, and I got a cute small stamp of a cat.

“Ooh, lucky! Feel free to try it out again anytime.” The person with the funky hat said.

I beamed and nodded, strolling back up the stairs to the field. People were still crowding around the space, so I had to hunch and make my way through the packed crowds a

few times. Surprisingly, when I got to the site of the balloon activity, the crowd had grown larger and noisier as more

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people paid to throw water balloons at Derek. Well, guess it was his unlucky day. I chuckled a bit when I saw Derek completely wet from head to toe. His face was twisting out of shape as he jumped up and down awkwardly trying

to avoid getting hit. I cheered for the customers that were baseball players in the school team. Soon I couldn’t stand watching any longer and walked past stooping and laughing so hard that I almost lost my breath. Gradually

calming down, I unhurriedly skipped up the stairs to the second floor of the school.

I guess I just wanted to stay somewhere quieter. I reached the balcony hallway right above the

balloon site of ours and watched. Okay I really couldn’t stand watching it without laughing. Leaning against the railing, I

looked away to the basketball

court full of swarming people still trying bits of this, playing bits of that. How I wished that this kind of atmosphere, this kind of event could go on forever. I like this feeling of enjoying life with all others, sharing things

that all of us cherish.

I watched for so long that I was about to fall asleep with

my head nodding when suddenly I heard a call of my name.

“BRIGHTNEY! WHERE WERE YOU–”

I was so shocked from nearly dazzling off that my elbow slid of the railings and my head fell landing on the top metal bar.

“OWWW AHHHHHHHH WHAT ADJFASLJFJAS;KLJSSSS” I yelped with my palm against my forehead. I could feel a bump.

“Ahhh?! Are you okay?? I just wanted to like… Ask you where

you were but I didn’t know you were… trying to take a nap standing and leaning against… the railing…” She muffled the

words.

I guess that’s what you get with friends.

It was about time that our activity site should be cleaned up. Before traveling down, I glanced down the railing at the bottom of the giant pillar, and I saw torn up balloon pieces sprinkled everywhere. I moaned a little and went down the

staircase. When I got to the first floor, I saw Derek resting against the dark brown soaked cardboard, his pupils with no focus while he sat there, mumbling strangely to himself. Others were hunching, pounding the ground with their fists,

cracking up so hard that some actually knelt on the floor with their head to their knees. I stared in horror as I collected the scattered balloon pieces into baskets. The area was finally cleared, of course, except for the water on the

floor. I could almost see a thin stream forming as the water traveled down the drainage. The fields and the courts were

Artwork by Anna Kaplan

19

The Tiger was strong and agile, but was very scared. The Lion was brave and agile, but not very strong.

And they both had a big problem.

The Tiger couldn’t deny any challenge, even if it was

as bizarre as jumping off a cliff! And the Lion had a gambling problem, he would bet on everything, even just eating a sandwich!“I can’t believe they are doing this…” The Zebra sighs,

lying on its lazy belly.

“You said it.” The Penguin replies, sliding down the ice at top speed.

“Nobody has ever tried this before, so I bet they can’t do it.” The elephant toots, giving itself a shower. But

everyone knew they would do this challenge, and it would be the biggest one yet.

“We will start the race at 9 o’clock, after all of the people

and tourists leave.” The Tiger declares, roaring to make it official.

“Alright, but not a second before.” The Lion licks it paw, which didn’t seem as impressive as the roar.

After everyone left, like they knew, it was 8:55. The tiger sat and waited, but he had this feeling that he needed to

still bustling with people, but I suppose that’s what we got for being in elementary school— having to clean up and pack up earlier.

In the end, the teacher counted the money we collected, and it was an unexpected NT$1300 gathered from all the visitors and students who came and participated in our

activity. I let out a sigh of relief, and clapped, cheering along with the class. The rest of the day we were free to wander around the fair, eat or have fun, and it was especially enjoyable for us after all the work. Well, that

wasn’t the case for Derek, I guess.

At last, all students were called back to their classrooms,

and people started clearing up. Although after the gather back, they would come out to keep their business running again since the fair could go on until 7:00, I still felt a little disappointed. Back up the stairs and at the railings of the

second floor hallway again, I leaned against the metal bars and extended my arms out to feel the pleasant breeze brushing past my hands. It was great how the hallways here didn’t have windows. The sun was setting, and soon I would

also set off for home.

The students poured back out again to continue their job at their stalls. I watched as the sky turned into a bold, orange

hue as the sun sets. I missed today. It just slipped through my hands, so fast that it seemed like it never happened. Yet it did, and I would always remember this feeling…

This feeling, of truly living.

The Lion and The Tiger

By Emerson W.

20

leave early, because the Lion was an inch closer to the food den.

“The Tiger will never know!” The lion laughs, but as quietly as he could. He was racing down to the food storage

4 minuets early! And he knew that he would win.

The Tiger waited until exactly 9 o’clock until he left, and he

noticed that the Lion had already left.

“That cheater, he will definitely win now, but I have to try.”

So the Tiger races after the Lion, even though he was going to lose.

The Lion was very close to the food stock, which made him

very happy. It was not his fault he was a cheating, but the fault of his weak personality.

“I will definitely win, but Tiger should be racing now, so I have to keep my pace.”

It was 9:10, and The Lion was already at the food den. He shook his proud cheating head and clawed at the boxes.

The tiger was not that very far away from the food storage, but was very mad at the Lion for cheating. But the Tiger

knew that the zookeeper would

find the Lion in there because he dose not know how to open the

food quietly.

“Who’s there?”

The Lion whispers as he hears stomping coming into the storage

room. As he is about to run out

something shoots into his flank, and he feels very sleepy. “I think I should

take a nap…”

It was 9:15, and the Tiger finally made it to the food storage, but the Lion wasn’t in sight.

“It looks like I won, I knew cheaters never win.”

Artwork by Gabby Abando

21

There is a school; a school that many students go to. Every day it is the same routine, every child went to the same class.

It was 3010; the school was like a giant robot, though the children were humans.

The teacher would teach the children, making sure they were listening. And the board would draw on itself, tracing every detail taught.

The clock would announce the time every hour, also disturbing the class quite a bit.

And the door would open itself when it was time to go, making sure that they all left.

The lockers would pack their bags, reminding them about there homework before they left.

But there was one room, a room that no one would go into.“It’s 8:00, and time for class.” The robot with one eye announced, lifting its arm onto the computer. Scrolling, Scrolling, but it seemed that no student was their.

“It’s 9:00, time for math.” The chalkboard drew some math problems and waited for a student to answer. But none

came.

“It’s 10:05, and it’s time for science.” The tables shifted and grumbled, revealing some bottles and water inside the desk.

“Insert experiment here.” The desk announced, waiting for a students reply. But none came. “Programming to first experiment, child’s favorite.” Slowly and steadily, the bottles fell to the ground and a tray took its place, showing

marshmallows and spaghetti sticks. But none was touched.

The Hidden Room

By Chloe H.


22

“It’s 12:00!” The door said while unlocking itself, “It is time for lunch!” Waiting for the kids to rush out, it was open and a since of satisfaction was felt. “I guess today is packed lunch day.”

“It’s 2:00!” The bell announced, ringing as loud as it could. “The

last class of the day will be canceled to inconvenience and has been changed to movie watching.” As ringing stopped, a movie

screen slowly came down and touched the floor, and a shining light reflected onto it.

“What should we play today?” But there was no answer, and the shining light turned purple. “Perhaps a documentary on penguins will do.” And the film went in place, rolling itself like a penguin on snow.

“It’s 4:00!” The lockers yelped with happiness, signaling the door to open again. “Make sure to finish math problems 27-532 at home.” The locker twisted itself

open, waiting for the students to put their backpacks inside. And it stayed open, until it slowly closed from all the dirt getting inside.

“It’s 4:30!” The teacher announced, the wires now getting twisted inside it.

“It’s 4:45!” the board shifted, words spreading along its blank body.

“It’s 4:55!” The door said, opening and closing.

“It’s 5:10!” The announcer croaked, screeching the microphone.

“It’s 5:25!” The lockers squeaked, seemingly unable to twist the locks.

And the lockers gave up, slowly shutting down there own system, which cut them out of the classroom.

“Unable to stabilize, resetting system.” The door groaned to a shut, but didn’t turn back on.

“System error, doing file scan.” But the files couldn’t be deleted.

“It’s 6:00!” The table shifted, opening and closing waiting for the boards command.

“Unable to classify file, shutting down system.” Inside the table shatters could be heard, and weird liquids dripped out of the gaps chipped away by termites that snuck in through the windows.

The lights popped, one at a time causing little bits of electricity to fall into the room; landing on the dirt filled

rug. The electricity shifted along the carpet, then collapsing on each other creating a little flame.

But a flame travels along, sucking up all the dirt from the

carpet and burning it to ash. The flame soon turned into a fire, which spread across the classroom burning everything it touched.

“The room was still part of the school, and it was

now gone.”

23

Once upon a time, there were three little pigs. Every little pig built his own house!

“My house is made of straw!” The first pig exclaimed, proudly showing off his house. The first pig wasn’t very smart, he always thought he was the best though.

“My house is made of sticks!” The second pig leaped with excitement, thinking it was a great idea. This piggy is smarter, but is too caught up in him-self to think!

“My house is made of bricks!” The third and last pig says, leaning against the walls of his house. The third piggy was smart! But when it came to strength he was as strong as a

toothpick.

One dreadful day, the day they finished the houses, the three

little pigs went out for a picnic. They didn’t know that at that moment someone was visiting them, and that someone was an evil witch! And when I mean evil, I mean evil by turning little babies into frogs and cooking them in soup!

Turning mice into rats! Turning gardens into graveyards!

“Oh stupid pigs!!” The witch chants, waving her broom in the air. “I will curse those piggy’s for stealing my precious

cookies! They will pay for what they have done!” The witch waves her wand, making the houses bend and twist. When the witch had finished the houses looked normal. “Now the piggy’s will have a ball!” The witch exclaims, laughing her

As the fire ate away at the classroom, the smoke detector tried to screech, but the rest of the system was gone; and the fire swallowed the computer system.

Soon robots rushed in with their hoses, putting out all of the fire; but it was to late.

The room was always dark, and the floors were dirty. The wallpaper would fall off every few minuets, and the teacher would break down every hour. But the room was still part of

the school, and it was now gone.

The robots walked away, leaving the once a classroom to continue on rusting; and forever in eternal sleep.

The Three Little Pigs

By Emerson W.

24

evil laugh. “At midnight, the houses will come alive! Starving for some piggy food!”

Soon the three little pigs had finished their picnic, and decided it was time to go home. “Man am I stuffed!” The first piggy said, rubbing his big belly.

“We must hurry though, or the wolves will come out!”

They were halfway to their houses when a big bad wolf appeared. “My, are these the pigs that own those houses?” The wolf asks himself, following the little piggy’s home. The wolf isn’t big and bad like you would think; this wolf

has always been nice to little piggies. But for some reason every time he walked around people would scatter clear of him, and that made him sad. “That must mean they will sleep there! I must warn them about the curse!”

But the wolf was clumsy; making loud noises was what he was good at. “Is that a wolf I hear?” The third pig gasps, looking at the houses that were so very close. “We must hurry!” The second pig yelps, scurrying into his

straw house.

“Come out or I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house down!” The

wolf warned, not wanting the piggy’s to go into the haunted houses. “Never!” The piggy yelled, hiding in the corner of the house. “You have left

me no choice…” The wolf sighed, taking a deep breath in. “BLLLLOOOWWWWW!” He blows, sending the straw far away. He didn’t

think that would work, the curse must have bided the straw together?

“Ahh!” The little pig yells, running into the second piggy’s house. The wolf sighs, feeling a bit lightheaded. “Come out or I’ll huff! And I’ll puff! And I’ll blow your house down!” The wolf yells, hoping to get them out this time. “Never!”

The little piggy’s screeched, hiding at the back of the room.

“BLLLLOOOWWWWW!” The wolf yells, sending all of the sticks flying back into the woods.

It worked again, and the wolf realized if the house could be

blown down, then the curse would disappear too!

“Oh no!” The piggies yell running into the third piggy’s

house, the house of bricks. The wolf couldn’t blow down another house, especially not bricks, but he had to warn the piggies of the haunted house. “Come out or I’ll huff…and I’ll puff…. And I’ll blow your house down!” The wolf

sighs, already running out of breath. “Never!” They scream, hiding at the back of the room. “Man, you guys won’t give up will you?” The wolf grumbled, but he had to try and warn them.

“Come out or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow

your house down!”

Artwork by Alan Ke

25

pig bones. “Oh no! They must have went looking for me and ran into the big bad wolf!” The piggy gasped, running into the house quickly. “I better hide!”

The next morning, a piggy neighbor came by, walking towards the house of bricks. “My my! What are those?” The pig gasps looking at the front of the house. What were

there weren’t 2 piles of bones, but 3.

“RRRRRAAAAAWWWWW” The wolf blows and blows, but couldn’t knock the bricks down. “Woo-hoo! We beat the big bad wolf!” They dance and play, not noticing the wolf sulking back into the woods, he had

failed, and at midnight he knew what would happen to them. “Poor piggies, they will never see daylight again…”

When it came to night, the little piggies were fast asleep, dreaming their sweat dreams. In the distance, you could hear a wolf howl, the howl that makes your

ears ring.

“What was that?” The first piggy wakes up, looking

around frightened. But everyone was asleep. The piggy was thirsty, and the only solution was to go to the lake and get some water. The piggy wrote a note, saying that he will be back soon.

The wolf didn’t howl again, and the night was quiet. All was silent, all was calm, accept for the brick house that was hungry to the bone. “I think it is time for a feast!”

The house thought, smelling the piggies that were resting inside of it. “Thanks to the witch I can eat now!” The house said happily, imagining forks and knifes cutting into the poor piggies.

“Man am I tired, I didn’t think the lake was so far away! I better get back and give them some of the water I

found!” The piggy ran, but clumsy as he was the piggy ran into many trees before reaching home.

When the piggy arrived he saw something he thought

he wouldn’t see, an unexpected surprise! Outside what once was the house of three piggies, were two piles of

26

You wrote the best when it was late

Because that was when you were so angry

You’d wake up with ripped papers and tears

You gave the best advice when it was dark

Because that was when you became so infuriated

You burned holes right through your throat

The Best(Worse)

By Winnie S.

You sang the best when it was gloomy

Because that was when you were so pained

You’d make peoples ears bleed out

You slept the best when it was starless

Because that was when you became so tired

You never woke up again

Artwork by Emma Xu

27

I knew that visiting a shark-filled habitat was going to get me killed or maybe rich. As I landed my helicopter in the restricted fearful forest that was a home to landsharks, I was the first one that set foot in the danger-filled habitat.

My risk-filled heart had forced my brain into doing this. I was only equipped with a bow and limitless amount of arrow, a week worth of food and water, and a machete. I was mostly relying on the machete because I could use it

forever.

As I stepped of the helicopter I heard nothing. Not a single sound. I tried to be as quiet as I could but I was still making random noises like crushing

dried leafs with hiking boots. I sheathed my weapons ready for a surprising entrance. I wandered myself around suspicious places, looking, listening, for any movement and noises that would sound like sharks. As I looked up

to the scarlet sky to see how much time I have left before dark wanders in, I had just the amount of time; almost a full day. I took my time to search for branches for housing and making sharp sticks to defend myself against

the sharks. After a few hours, the sky turned black and I got comfy and went to sleep. When I woke up, I felt breezes; they were uneven breezes. I took a peek outside and immediately concealed myself. I had finally seen the

dangerous sharks that lurked in the woods. I finally got

one achievement of my list now I have to get away. I searched on my body for a weapon I could use. I found a little sharp stick that I had sharpened with my machete. I had thought about using it as a distracting to get the shark

away. Crunch. The dried leafs split under my feet. My head sank. I looked up and I was baffled. The shark didn’t even bother to attack me because it was always was attracted to that one tree. I had an idea. If all the sharks that are here

attracted to that tree then how about I chop it down and use it as a distraction to get away a stalking shark. I felt like a mad genius. I wandered slowly towards my shelter wandering when the shark my spring at me and kill me. I

finally reached my small shelter and grabbed everything; food, water, and my weapons. I didn’t want to kill it, but that was the only way to get the wicked wood to counter the sharks. As I pulled my arrow back to put it to sleep, I

hesitated to fire. To kill it. I fired. In less than one second it ended. My first kill out in the wild. I walked over and started hacking away at the

tree with my machete.

I had split my last branch of the hypnotizing tree. I had 100

small pieces of that hypnotizing wood more or less. I was all geared up for the sharks. I forgot something. I could get more food from the shark. I knew it was disgusting but I

could last longer on this fearful forest with some extra food.

Just as I was heading out I saw a pack shark feasting on the dead shark. I quickly ran past them and went on my way.

***

As I looked at my watch and I had three more days to go. I was tired. Tired of staying here and being in a danger zone

of getting eaten alive. I was running out of supplies and I was going to be starved to death if that was the worst-case

Sharks*By Ethan M.

*prompt from writingprompts.tumblr.com

“I had just the amount of time, almost a full

day”.

28

A certain amount of resources everyday. I was starved I wanted to eat anything. I was that hungry. The thing I noticed about he sharks was that they were like zombies, eating anything in their way and never being full. I saw

how they ate the dead shark; all messy and manner less. I looked at my watch and started heading for shelter.

***

My stomach growled which led to me eating more food

and running less and less of food. I had one day to go and not a lot of food left. I was headed towards the helicopter so I could leave on the 7th day. That night I got to the helicopter I was the helicopter was full of sharks. I

threw every single wood piece I had everywhere to distract them. They were distracted, ran away from post just to get a piece of wood that threw them of track. I waited till morning and then turned on the Helicopter and

headed off back to base.

Despite hunger

Despite lies

Despite diseases

Despite bloody cries

Despite poverty

Despite government spies

We are still are trying to survive

Though still fear

Dangers that may past by

Making lots of us die

What would you do?

When it comes to saving

Your own and your loved ones lives?

Life on the Human JourneyBy Anna L.

29

Artwork by Emma Xu

30

Instrument #1 : Murder

Someone studies it everyday

Just like a specimen;

It is a form of art

So carefully planned

Yet so recklessly

Preformed

Instrument #2 : Murderer

Hands covered on the surface of a blood-splattered face

Hands wrapped around a petty key to a homicide

Already dead and already gone;

Just waiting for the guilt to leave;

Waiting for the pain to just

Subside

Instrument #3 : Victim (In relations with instrument #2)

Hands cover across face to protect themselves

Heart as a keyhole to a homicide

Almost dead and almost gone;

Just waiting for the reason why;

Waiting for the pain to just

Subside

Instrument #4 : Suicide

I had a choice but

I figured this would work better;

They say it is not an option

To jump and fall

But I see no harm

In doing so anyways

Death and Co.By Winnie S.

Death & Co.A small insight of Death and his

instruments. A reference of anything mixed in with Death. All labeled and accounted

for. Still in working condition and sadly still used every single day.

(Dissected and torn apart bit by bit for the perception of you and I.)

31

Instrument #5 : Solitary

So this is what its like;

To be shoved into a box

And buried ten feet under

With no one else

To share the space with

Just

Me

Instrument #6 : Losing

I swear you are still here;

Because I still remember

Every word

You said

And every raindrop

That fell

To go along

With your

Words

Instrument #7 : Gone

The picture

Is right there

But you are

Gone

Defines as: somewhere else;

And I am both mad and sad because of it

How dare you take the title:

Gone

32

Here is a

definition

of the word

“broken”

Horses are broken…

in.

Boys are broken into manhood

Minds are broken

Spirits are broken

Maybe it is

silly of me, I suspect it,

but “broken” brings to mind

the neon glow sticks

I hoarded fruitlessly

in the fourth grade.

Who knows what chemicals were

pushed into the plastic tube

(neon, supposedly, but probably something else too)

Hold the

pale

thing

g-i-n-g-e-r-l-y

So that you may save

the very first

SNAP

And it is always satisfying

to break in a glow stick.

it cracks

and changes shape.

A glow stick is a straight hard force

an all over thing

and so cracking it

is an all over thing too.

After you snap it

It’s sort of just

soft.

There are no hard joints

to squeeze out

anymore.

The Definition of Broken

By Jamie J.

Artwork by Alan Ke

33

It’s just

broken

now.

Horses are broken-in.

Boys are broken into manhood

Minds are broken

Souls are broken

But all I see

is a ridiculous image

of a horse

Flabby

Overturned

Bent at rounded angles

Glowing a faint yellow in the dark.

Ring it, and make it a bracelet!

It glows yellow,

Tired,

Resigned

Lit in memory of its achievement.

It spends the rest of its life as

dimly glowing jewelry.

Sometimes the chemical-y juice

Escapes

And mom tells you not to touch it.

So you throw it away.

Sometimes

quietly

the unnatural light it once had

Burns

Out

It is done with you.

And with being a bracelet.

You don’t snap a glow stick in half to break it.

It’s soft and spineless

It’s gone through so much.

You got what you wanted from it already.

Now it’s breathless

And weary

And there’s no point getting its breath back.

you never snap the glow stick all the way,

in half.

Artwork by Alan Ke

34

Gone

1 sec they were there

Another sec they’re suddenly gone

Disappeared into thin air

How I wonder where they had gone

I cry, I yell, I call them back

I tried

But none come

Because they are all

GONE

GoneBy Anna L.

Up, up

Down, down

Soaring, gliding

Through the tubes

Up, down,

Going harder

Up, up

It’s going faster

Bang, Crash!

Falling down

On the ground

Game over

The Flappy Bird Game

By Anna L.

35

In every hallway, the voices of all the clocks sounded in unison, Seven o’clock, doors unlock, seven o’clock. The voices echoed through the empty school, but there was no response. The voices repeated this three more times.

The red lights on the monitors in front of the school turned green, waiting silently for the students to arrive and scan their eyes for the front doors to spring open.

“Today is January 9, 2034,” said a voice within the main entrance, issuing in a monotone voice from the walls, “in the city of Beijing, China.” It would repeat the date every few minutes, for the students arrived at different times. “Good morning students. Welcome to another day at Beijing International. Weather today is foggy and cloudy. AQI level today is 134. Special events for today are…”

Eight o’clock, school buses arrive, eight o’clock. Driverless buses slowly began filling up the parking lot, but as the doors slid open, no one came out.

The doors at the entrance remained stationary, patiently waiting for students to come. Still, no one came.

Eight thirty, time for class, eight thirty. Doors to the classrooms swung open, awaiting students, but there was no noisy clatter of children making their way to class, no slam of locker doors automatically closing. After a long wait, the classroom doors swung shut again.

The holographic screen at the front of the classroom came to life, displaying the lesson for today. Neatly written words started scribbling on the clean whiteboards. A voice sounded in the classroom and began to teach history, unaware that the seats were empty.

Meanwhile, as classes went on, into the corridors trooped all kinds of cleaning machinery in organized lines. The machines began vaccuming, sweeping, moping up any dirt or dust found on the floor, or the walls, or the ceiling. By the time the voices of the clocks said, Nine thirty, switch classes, nine thirty, the machines had retreated and every inch of the school was sparkling clean.

The classroom doors opened once again, allowing students to go to their next class. Outside, the wind had picked up speed, the fog was blown away, and

rays of sunshine danced across the city. The sun illuminated windows of office buildings and houses, and every single one was completely deserted.

Ten o’clock break time, ten o’clock. The dimmed lights in the cafeteria suddenly came on. A rich aroma of baked pastries filled the hallways, as display windows at the cashier counter slipped away to reveal snacks. The counter waited for hungry students to eagerly come and buy food, but none came.

The backdoors of the school opened to reveal the playground. Benches and tables flipped out of the ground beneath a large tree, for students who chose to come out and eat or work under the shade.

Ten thirty. The benches and tables hid away again and the backdoors closed. The classrooms went back to work.

Eleven thirty, gather in assembly hall, eleven thirty. The giant auditorium illuminated with golden theatre lights. As the big double doors opened, a carpet rolled out, starting from the doors, making paths to the rows of velvet red seats. When the auditorium seemed to feel that everyone was seated, the room darkened again and a large hologram screen at the front of the room awoke. A voice in the projector announced the different events that were planned for the month, speaking in time with the slideshow now being projected.

Twelve thirty, lunchtime, twelve thirty. The assembly halls opened, allowing children freedom within the school for the next hour. Savory smells filled the hallways again, and the buffet lines waited for children to come and serve themselves. “Welcome to Beijing International Cafeteria. Next in line please,” said the cashier machines.

Small green lights turned on in the seats, showing that the seats were available. The chairs waited for a student to log in when they sat down, so the light could turn red and show that the seat was occupied.

Once again, the backdoors opened to show the playground. This time, the different sports facilities also opened. Goals popped up at both ends of the freshly mowed soccer field. Clear water filled up the swimming pool. Bleachers stretched out of the walls in the gym. And of

course, there were facilities for the more academic students. Soft plushy beanbags and couches flew on to the carpeted floor of the library and lists of available books appeared on the holographic screens.One thirty. Classes started again and doors slammed shut. “We will continue reading The Hunger Games by Suzanne

Collins today.” With that, the classroom started speaking, reading from the holographic e-book on the screen.

“I realize for the first time, how very lonely I’ve

A School Without StudentsBy Chloe HuiArtwork by Chloe H.

“‘Today is January 9, 2034,” said a voice

within the main entrance,’”

36

houses, and every single one was completely deserted.

Ten o’clock break time, ten o’clock. The dimmed lights in the cafeteria suddenly came on. A rich aroma of baked pastries filled the hallways, as display windows at the cashier counter slipped away to reveal snacks. The counter waited for hungry students to eagerly come and buy food, but none came.

The backdoors of the school opened to reveal the playground. Benches and tables flipped out of the ground beneath a large tree, for students who chose to come out and eat or work under the shade.

Ten thirty. The benches and tables hid away again and the backdoors closed. The classrooms went back to work.

Eleven thirty, gather in assembly hall, eleven thirty. The giant auditorium illuminated with golden theatre lights. As the big double doors opened, a carpet rolled out, starting from the doors, making paths to the rows of velvet red seats. When the auditorium seemed to feel that everyone was seated, the room darkened again and a large hologram screen at the front of the room awoke. A voice in the projector announced the different events that were planned for the month, speaking in time with the slideshow now being projected.

Twelve thirty, lunchtime, twelve thirty. The assembly halls opened, allowing children freedom within the school for the next hour. Savory smells filled the hallways again, and the buffet lines waited for children to come and serve themselves. “Welcome to Beijing International Cafeteria. Next in line please,” said the cashier machines.

Small green lights turned on in the seats, showing that the seats were available. The chairs waited for a student to log in when they sat down, so the light could turn red and show that the seat was occupied.

Once again, the backdoors opened to show the playground. This time, the different sports facilities also opened. Goals popped up at both ends of the freshly mowed soccer field. Clear water filled up the swimming pool. Bleachers stretched out of the walls in the gym. And of course, there were facilities for the more academic students. Soft plushy beanbags and couches flew on to the carpeted floor of the library and lists of available books appeared on the holographic screens.

One thirty. Classes started again and doors slammed shut. “We will continue reading The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins today.” With that, the classroom started speaking, reading from the holographic e-book on the screen.

“I realize for the first time, how very lonely I’ve been in the arena. How comforting the presence of another human being can be.”

The voice continued reading, occasionally stopping to remind the empty classroom to take notes.

Two thirty. Switch classes again.The words, Three thirty, rang through the halls

signaling the end of the school day. Before the doors could even open, a shrill voice screeched, Earthquake alarm! Earthquake alarm! Magnitude 10 earthquake is approaching!

The sirens repeated the same words that were said in every household on that morning, leaving the city desolate as the citizens evacuated in hordes. The school knew that it was not built for an earthquake of such a high magnitude, so it waited for the impending disaster, waited for death with open arms.

And sure enough, death came. The floor of the school started shaking ever so slightly, and this the school could handle. But soon, the earthquake showed it’s true colors. The glass that protected medals and trophies in the trophy room shattered with a resonating ring, and the trophies were knocked from the shelves, crashing to the floor and breaking into tiny irreparable pieces.

A fire had started in the kitchens, spreading faster than light through the school. Books fell from tall shelves in the library, falling into the growing fire. The machine troops were back in the hallways. They rushed to help diminish the fire, but the ceiling suddenly gave shuddering sigh and collapsed.

The school continued fighting against the attacking forces, and losing. Slowly, the building began to fall, as if bowing down in defeat to the earthquake.

The dust and smoke cleared to reveal a large pile of rubble and debris, the remains of a city that had once thrived and flourished. And right in the center of it all, where a school used to stand, a single voice rang from a small speaker, the only survivor of this tragedy. Unaware of this fact, it whispered, “The earthquake is over. The earthquake is over. School will commence as usual on January 10, 2034. “

37

Swiftly they drift away

Like the wind on a sunny day

No one but us can keep or hold on to them

They belongs to us and only us

And they’ve slowly drifted

Chasing them down

Running around

Hoping we’ll find them

When it’s apparent we cannot

The memories we’ve lost

The memories we’ve want

Trying to remember kids playing under the sun

Or the first encounter with a true friend

We’ll never get back

For it’s been too long

Although there are plenty that will always be lost

There are still those

To be made and be thought

Cause every moment of the day

Is a new memory

Beautiful as a summer wren

ChasingBy Linnea An

Artwork by Emma Xu

38

“Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen!” The loud voice boomed throughout the dome. High-pitched cheers could be heard through out. As if on cue a magic dust that blinds the plain eye snowed over the sleigh and the jolly red-coated senior. His warm laughter filled his reindeer with pride and courage.

“Onward now! We have children’s gift to give!” That’s been the last thing the little elves heard before a flash of golden light lead out of the dome. The line of gold scattered itself and rained down, it changed the pure white snow to gold. It was a marry sight to see, yet also a sad one; somehow in all this joy, despair lives and they can feel it growing year by year.

As Santa was flying away from the dome filled with his family, his warm smile flattened to a cold distant frown. The urge to look over his shoulder and head back was over powering him until he smelled the aroma of fresh mint chocolate chipped cookies with a nice cup of steaming milk.

The urge to head back was now gone and he was at full speed forward. Upon his arrival he went in the old fashioned way, through the chimney of course! Once he got in he let his noise do the rest of the work. Not even a second later he was in front of a full plate of cookies and a cup of milk that seemed if it tipped over it would flood the entire house!

After staring at the food for what seemed like forever he gently picked one up and wolfed it down in seconds left. Now it was time to see to check the list, and then check it again just to be sure. The kid that lived here was called, Elliot. Her parents were expecting a boy and wanted that name no matter what sadly. Anyway, she was on the good list and she wished for a jolly Christmas for me of all people. Yet, I could not grant this for I am jolly all year around; I think. I am not quite sure of that but I gave her a little dog plushy, hopping that will make

The Demon Inside*By Kambra A.

*see prompt at writingprompts.tumblr.com

Artwork by Emma Xu

39

Santa looked up for what seemed like he last time and told the ones behind,“Tell my wife that I said thank you, and I’m sorry,” he jumped. Falling faster and faster as the ground grew

closer and closer. Gasps heard from every angle as people watched in horror. A single girl stepped out in front of the crowd surrounding what was soon to be his finally stop. And yelled at the top of her lungs thinking

that some how it would stop the inevitable down fall.“PLEASE STOP FALLING! DON’T CRUSH MY

WISH!” His eyes widened but nothing could be done. Even after his path to death was shaken he still wanted to rid his demon. So he looked down at her and mouthed,“I’m sorry,” before he hit the ground; his body limp and

broken, lying in his own blood. The sound of his bones cracking echoing through the hollow shell left behind known as the world.

The smell of death and blood chocked Elliot, the sight of so much blood blinded her, and everything was suffocating her. Tears flowing down her rosy checks

non-stop. Her hands covering her face as if trying to block out the world and the screams echoing behind her. Falling to her knees she heard,

“Its hard seeing your heroes falls, huh? Too bad it’s all real!” After that, Elliot fainted seeing a world darker than black, brighter than white.

That was the end of her child hood,“Happy 13th Birthday Elliot!” The teen stared at the

candles that rested on a lemon cake with glazed eyes. The death of Saint Nick was hard for her to bear. She leaned in and blew out the small flames that flickered with out care. Her wish was the same hoping it would

some how raise the dead, even though deep down she knew it was hopeless.“I’ll try to grant your wish this year, so please, don’t give up yet.” Her eyes widened,

“What?”

Slowly as the tides and the seas turn against me

As the earth below me rumbles and shakes

As the wind tries to cut through me

As everything I knew betrays me

Voices of the past start screaming in my ears for mercy

RealityBy Kambra A.

“‘It’s hard seeing your heroes fall, huh?’”

40

I can see them, sneaking in through the cracks

My senses dull and I am left in a haze

Losing my mind as the world spins

I finally realized that I can’t escape my demons for they know how to swim

The monsters I fear aren’t under my bed or in my closet

They’re in my head.

So I close my eyes

Feel fear conquer me

Watch as prayers die

Watch as angles fall

Watch as demons rise

As hell is unleashed

As I sink into the abyss

As I go mad

As the world I know ends

As I grow up.

A figure, lean and starved, plodded through the endless, barren wasteland. Stray flakes of snow swirling around him, the man seemed like a phantom, his outline quavering, as if hesitant. He trudged on, his thin, patched

boots leaving grey prints in the slush, shivering in his thin rags. The icy chill pierced his skin like needles, the frost glazing his skin and burning like fire. He looked up, eyes weary, at the full moon above him. He was basked

in a silvery glow, almost glittering in the moonlight. A tendril of cold snaked up his jacket, and he quaked, pulling his threadbare coat closer to his skin, trying to protect what warmth his emaciated body still possessed.

He stumbled, falling into the snow, his tattered form a stark contrast to the endless white around him. Moaning,

he rolled over, clutching at his chest. His face contorted in pain, warping the rough skin into an ocean of creases and wrinkles.

“I-… I am a man of destiny… I will- I will not die…” he panted, breathing out a puff of steam. Even despite the freezing temperature, his throat burned. “I am… I am a

man of destiny…” he repeated, sticking a hand out, pushing himself off the ground. Breathless, he staggered forward, forging his way through the snow.

He would not die.

He was Sergei.

DestinyBy Ryan S.

41

He was Sergei.

He was a man of destiny.

A distant drone echoed across the tundra, quickly rising to a rumble, then a roar. Sergei raised his head, and

through the pounding snow and hail, he saw the silhouette of a truck, quickly drawing close.

Raising his arms, he clumsily used his frozen fingers to

pull off his jacket, flaring it above his head like a flag. “Hey! Hey!” He yelled, waving his coat in a frenzy, trying to signal the driver.

The truck drew to a stop in front of him, heat radiating from the grille. A hulking mass of steel and metal, it loomed over

Sergei, almost emanating menace. Sergei faltered for a moment, eyeing the faded red-and-white military emblem painted on the side of the truck.

The engine stuttered, and a man leaned out the window. He had a gruff appearance, with a stocky figure and a square, flat head. His head was cropped in a crisp

military cut, with a trace of stubble on his lower lip. Sergei tensed when he noted the bulge of a pistol underneath the man’s coat.

The man contemplated Sergei for a moment. After a long pause, he drawled, “What do you want?”

Sergei steeled himself against the man’s frigid gaze. “I… I need a ride into Moscow. I would be much obliged if you were to-“

“-what do you have to offer?” The man asked bluntly.

Taken aback for a moment, Sergei used his freezing

hands to scour his pockets, trying to find some kind of barter. With his numb fingers finding nothing, his mouth drooped in anguish.

“I… I have nothing to give you…” Sergei muttered in despair.

The man in the truck eyed Sergei’s coat. “That coat,” he stated, “give me that coat, and I will bring it to Moscow.”

Sergei drew back, hands wrapping around his frayed jacket instinctively. “My coat is all I have. If I give it to you, I

will surely die.”

“If you don’t give it to me, you will have to walk the 20 miles to Moscow, and you will

die all the same. Whether or not you wish to prolong your death is your choice, Comrade.” The man replied, his voice devoid of emotion.The men’s eyes locked, and each looked into the other,

their gazes piercing, contemplating this proposition.

Sergei turned away, instead taking off his sweater

beneath his coat. “This sweater is thick and warm.” He told the man, gesturing to the bulky wool. “You can take it instead.”

“A deal.” The man said, opening the door and inviting him in. The man gave a grin of triumph, taking the sweater and inspecting it closely, patting the wooly

“He was a man of destiny.”

42

The man started the engine, the truck thundering away. He sighed, then spoke, in little more than a throaty growl.

“I’m Mikail Gastor. I have come from Karakov to deliver freight to the docks beyond Moscow. I can drop you off at the outskirts, as they are on the way.”

“Of course. Whatever is best for you.” The man replied to Mikail. “I’m Sergei.

Sergei Turgonev.”

Sergei suddenly was flung forward as the truck halted violently. “Ser- Sergei

Turgonev?” Mikail asked, turning in his seat. He watched him with interest, studying his face.

Sergei rubbed his aching forehead before replying.

“That’s right.” He said. “ I came from the-“ He suddenly burst out in a long bout of coughing, and he hacked continuously for the next minute or so,

silencing all conversation. As he gave one last, violent retch, he coughed out a tooth, a trail of blood covering his mitten. The thin scarlet stream flowed freely

down his hand, dripping to the floor, where it puddled, glinting black in the moonlight.

“Woah, comrade. That’s a bad cough.” Mikail observed. He handed over a small mug of steaming water, which Sergei heartily accepted. “I’ve heard of you. You’re from

the old Space project. You were sent to the Gulags, where you not?” he questioned.

“I was, for two years. Two hard, freezing years. But it’s over now.” Sergei looked up at the stars, staring through the dirty glass of the front windshield.

“It’s over.”

========================================

“I can only go so far. You can stay and wait for anyone

else, or walk into the city alone. Your choice.” Mikail told Sergei. He pulled the truck to a halt, and Sergei eyed the sign at the side of the road.


43

bread and examining it closely. It radiated heat and he could feel its warmth through his gloved hand. A wonderful aroma rose from the steaming bun, swirling in his nostrils and tantalizing him with its smell. He

cautiously took a bite, testing the flavor. The soft bread was nourishing and soothing against his aching gums. He swallowed, biting off more bread. He smiled, for the first time in years, it seemed. He looked around, hopeful

for perhaps another miracle, though feeling foolish for having such high hopes.

His wishes, it seemed, had been granted. He spotted a small, grubby bag at the side of the road. Opening it, he found that it was loaded with coins, and he fingered through the small pile of money, letting the cool metal

soothe and caress his fingers. Looking around, he picked it up.

“A good guardian angel…” he murmured, staring at the moon.

He wadded over to a nearby tavern and let himself in,

paying the register with the sack of coins. He walked into a room, sitting on the soft, springy bed and chewing his food.

As he ate, rivulets of tears streamed down his face, dripping from his chin and pooling at his feet. “A good guardian angel, yes.” He smiled as he realized the

ridiculousness of the situation. The most rich and influential scientist in Russia, turned to the point in where shelter and bread were luxuries beyond belief. How his colleagues would laugh at him now. A guardian

angel? They would scoff.

He looked up, out the small, stained window. They may laugh, be he knows the truth. Everything happens for a reason. The events of today were not mere coincidences. Someone was watching out for him.

After all, he was a man of destiny.

I am Death’s child. Most people see me as an unusually pale girl with long silvery blonde hair and eyes of an icy irradiated blue topaz. You probably think of Death as a heartless, cold horrifying Cigure that takes life away and laughs at those in pain. Well, Death isn’t. Death doesn’t take life away from us. She merely collects the lost souls and sends them on their way to what we call ‘Heaven’. I was found by Death when I was no more than seven. My real parents were killed in a car crash and I had survived. Death knew she had broken one of the golden rules of the

Guardians when she took me in. Some of the Guardians, including Soul, Dream and Will, didn’t

mind the fact that Death had taken me in. Some other Guardians, including Darkness, Light and Hate,

thought that Death was to be punished. The trial had gone on for days when Cinally, the head Guardian, Life, decided that Death was allowed to keep me as long as I stayed away from human civilization if I was

without a Guardian.

Want to know my name? I’ll tell you at the end of my story. This story is about the death of a Guardian. No one thought it was Death, it wasn’t Death in the Cirst place. Her job is to merely send the souls to ‘Heaven’ and she was shocked when she found out the soul she

was sending was her fellow Guardian, Dream.

Death’s ChildBy Anonymous

44

Life was furious. Who dared to kill his Guardian? The Guardians were the ones that kept balance in the

world. Life ordered that every Guardian was to keep an eye open for the culprit and when he was found,

kill him.

“What if the culprit is one of us? We’d be losing two guardians.” Soul asked. She had Clowing blue hair with white pearl beads. Her dark purple eyes watched her fellow Guardians fearfully.

“You all have helpers within your job group. I’m sure that if one of you is the culprit, we’ll Cind a

replacement.” Life replied calmly.

“When is the trial?” Hate asked. His Ciery red hair stuck out in every direction while his black eyes

glared at the rest.

“The trial will be in four weeks. If by then, the culprit is not found. I will personally question every one of you. You are dismissed.” Life hisses out and leaves. Death waited until everyone was gone before

kneeling down in front of me.

“Was it you?” She asked. Her red eyes watched me carefully.

“No.” I answer.

“Do you know who did it?”

“No.”

Death sighed with relief. She swiftly stood up and smiled.

“I think its time we gave civilization a visit.” She said. I nodded and tucked my hair into my hood. Death put her hood on and took my hand. I shuddered as a cold

chill swept up my spine.

“You can open your eyes now little one.” Death mutters. I open my eyes and smile. Everyone looked

so happy. Then I frown.

“Death, the townspeople seem too happy. Now that Dream is gone, the only thing they should see are

Nightmares.” I say.

“You’ve a good eye, little one. Indeed now that Dream is gone, Nightmare is the only one working.”

“Let’s go back, we have much to do before the trial.” Death says. I nod and follow.

Days pass, and no one knows who the killer is. Death said that it was indeed Dream who she had sent to ‘Heaven’, although she couldn’t see Dream’s face. She was sure it was Dream who was killed. When it Cinally came to the day of the trial, I was surprisingly, given

permission to speak.

“I suspect Hate.” Light says immediately as soon as the trial

starts.

“I second that.” Will agrees.

“I didn’t murder Dream!” Hate yells.

“Hate didn’t murder Dream.” Death says.

“Then who did?” Darkness asks.

“The only two possibilities are Nightmare, or Dream herself.” I say quietly. They all turn to me.

“What do you mean Dream herself? She was the victim.” Soul asks.

“Unless she faked her death.” I argue. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nightmare Clinch and I smirk.

“What do you mean?” Hate asks, confused.

“‘What if the culprit is one of us?’”

45

“What if she disguised herself as one of you guys and killed the real Guardian?” I ask. Death and Soul

suddenly smile, catching on.

“So you’re saying that Dream faked her death by killing someone else. Even if that was the truth, why

would she do that?” Will asks.

“Maybe she had a grudge against that Guardian?” Soul suggests.

“Who would she have a grudge against?” Hate asks.

“She’s always so kind and she smiles at everyone. There’s no way we would Cind out who she has a

grudge against.” Light defends.

“There must be someone who she has a grudge against, someone she despises more than Hate

despises everyone else.” I say. Hate glares at me and I Clinch.

“And you think I want to despise everyone!?” Hate snarls. I back away behind Death, frightened.

“Now, now Hate, there’s no reason to frighten the young girl to death.” Will says, running a hand

through her short silver hair.

“I’m merely pointing out that we don’t have a choice as to what our jobs are.” Hate growls. Will laughs

half-‐heartily.

“Now, that isn’t true. Remember Pain?” Will says, Hate Clinches, remembering his old friend. He quickly

shakes his head.

“Don’t mention that coward to me!” Hate yells.

“Silence!” Life snarled at the guardians.

“Continue on, girl.” Life says, nodding his head at me.

“I suspect that Dream was not killed and disguised herself as one of the guardians.” I say.

“And what evidence do you have for that?” Darkness asked. He had been silent the whole time and I was

shocked that he had spoken.

“Well, the village that Death and I visited was Cilled with happiness. There was no evidence of them

having nightmares at night.” I answered.

“Then who do you suspect Dream killed?” Life asks.

“Nightmare.” I say.

“That makes sense.” Soul agrees.

“Then that would mean that Dream killed Nightmare and pretended to be him. Which means… Nightmare,

take off your hood.” Darkness says.

“Why should I?!” ‘Nightmare’ yells.

“If you really are Nightmare, you wouldn’t mind if we looked underneath that hood of yours.” Will says.

Nightmare glances around the room, looking for a way to get out of the mess.

“Nightmare. If you do not take off your hood, we will agree that you are guilty and send you off.” Life

snarls. Nightmare growls before taking off the hood. Everyone gasps. Underneath the hood he wore, was

Dream.

“I didn’t think you all were this smart to Cigure it out. Indeed, I killed Nightmare.” She says.

“But… Why?” Death asks.

“I hated him! He ruined everything I did! If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have to work twice as much as all

of you!” She yells.

46

“Take her away.” Life says to the guards inside the room. They grab Dream’s arms and start dragging her

away.

“The trial is now over.” Life continues, leaving the room.

Silence erupts as everyone grimly leaves. Death sighs and sends me to my room.

“Good job, little one.” She says.

“Thanks.” I smile.

…You now know the story of how Dream was found out and killed. Now, my name. My name is Nightmare.

I am the one who would have died. But I didn’t. Everything I said was a lie. The reason why the village didn’t have nightmares? I wasn’t giving them any. You ask who the person who Dream killed was? It was merely one of those who worked under me. You ask why I would do something like this? That’s because I

am your worst nightmare.

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Grass is green

Blueberries are also blue

Ode to Blueberries

By Alex Le

Artwork by Alan Ke

47

Once upon a time there was a tiny bug village in the middle of a lush meadow. Flowers of all kinds bloomed; the grass was probably the greenish green you would have ever seen. Every day, insect of every kind

would be out from the hut and do their business. Ladybugs will be on guard, fending of aphids that invaded the village. Ants and silkworms would be doing their usual shopping business. And the butterfly family,

which was the mayor of the village, will make the important decisions.

One day, the grass had a shade of yellow. The flowers started to droop. Because of that, the ladybugs are up all night, trying to find the tiny aphids that

destroy the huts of innocent bugs. Because of that, the butterfly mayor started to worry, “Something is on the way, tiny bug village must be prepared for what’s ahead. We need

to ask the ‘wise one’ for help.” But no one dared to go. Until finally, a group of young bugs volunteered to go investigate what was happening.

The bugs that volunteered include: Katypillar the caterpillar, who loved to explore, Beetrice the bee and Flash the light bug; they were competitive athletes. Lady

ladybug, a soldier, last but not least, Antony the ant, which liked exploring new things.

The young bugs climbed toward the distant half

withered willow tree. If the bugs were in human size, it

would take them 60 seconds to scurry there and back. But remember, they are as big as your pinky. So this took them a while. So the long meadow grass was like hills to them. So they climbed blade of blade, slowly making their way to the

willow tree.

“It’z a shame that wee have to keep on going and

zkip all the lovely food.” Beetrice buzzed sadly, looking at the half withered daisies, “we couldz really eat.”

Flash waved his front legs impatiently, “We would be there by now if we didn’t have to lug Katypillar and Lady ladybug around.”

Lady ladybug glared at Flash, “You aren’t lugging me around nor Katypillar! I prefer walking instead of

flying! Besides, Katypillar can’t fly; she’s only a caterpillar. I need

to stay down here so that she won’t be attacked by anyone.”

Antony who was the leader of this group and the smallest one scampered onto a blade of grass, addressing his crew. “Why are you guys arguing? We need to compromise! Flash, Beetrice, aren’t you guys both athletes?

You can carry her!”

Flash didn’t answer; Beetrice shifted a bit, “ Sorry, not the strongest athlete.”

Flash was getting impatient, “This is hopeless! Even if we managed to go to see the wise one, how long

will it take us to get back? We will need to climb blades of grass again!”

Once Upon A TimeBy Chloe Hui

“Katypillar is now a Katycoon.”

48

Katypillar was busy munching on a blade of grass, “I could munch eat up munch as much grass munch, as I can munch.”

“I could chop the grass in half!” Antony suggested.

Lady ladybug flew around them “Oh! Oh! I can eat the aphids on it! I’m starving!”

“Me and Flazh will watch fromz above,” Beetrice called, “We won’t get in your wayz.”

Hours went. Katypillar had a stomachache; they couldn’t work as fast. So they dragged her on a leaf. The sun was going down. They were exhausted so they decided to rest on a sturdy patch of grass.

The next morning though, everyone realized that Katypillar turned into a cocoon.

“I can’t see anything.” A muffled voice sounded.

Flash sighed, “Katypillar is now a Katycoon.”

Hours went by, the bugs continued to pull Katycoon up the little path. In return, Katycoon told them

stories to amuse them in return.

“My great uncle’s brother’s sister’s cousin Aunty

Apple-plant lived for 3 years.” Katycoon told them, “She was from Fruit tunes village. She died last month but she told me all of her awesome tales and adventures.”

“Go on.” Lady ladybug looked interested, “What adventures did she go on?”

“Which one do you want to hear?” Katycoon asked, “The big flood? How did she make surplus honey and made her village one of the richest kingdom for 3 moons? Or are you more interested in how they survived

the no food season?”

“The no food season.” Antony replied. Flash

nodded in agreement. Beetrice looked a bit disappointed.

“It all happened one day when the grass turned yellow and flowers lost its colors.” Katycoon began, “Their

village started to worry. They started to panic, taking down huts, they are planning to move.”

“Great Aunt Apple-plant was a hero of the town since she helped the town get the surplus honey and help them survive the flood.” Katycoon continued, “She suggested storing food in a great big log and living in there.

Great Aunt Apple-plant was a friend with the wise one, who also lived in Fruit tunes village. Back then, she wasn’t THAT respected. She agreed with Great Aunt Apple-plant. But the village thought they weren’t serious. I mean think,

such a big threat and you are just going to sit here and wait? It’s silly thinking about it.”

“What happened nezt?” Beetrice pressed, suddenly

interested in the story.

“Most of the villagers didn’t listen.” Katycoon

replied, “Some of them did. After all, Great Aunt Apple-plant was famous in the village. So some bugs still listened to her.”

49

“It was a terrible.” Katycoon shivered in her cocoon, “bugs started dying. Even the bugs that followed her thought it was too harsh and gave up. In the end, only 1/10 of the village survived.”

Antony suddenly stopped lugging Katycoon, “that’s it!”

Flash look at Antony curiously, “figured out what?”

“We don’t have to go to the wise one.” Antony told them, “Katycoon has the answer!”

“I do?” Katycoon sounded shocked, “I thought I was the one causing the trouble. If it wasn’t for me, you guys will be there already!”

“She finally admits that.” Flash commented; Lady ladybug gave him a hard look.

Antony ignored both of them, “The tale about great aunt Apple-plant! The no food season! This village was built in early spring. This village lived here only for

about 6 moons, I was a little larva back then!”

Beetrice looked at the distant village, “Not too

late to goo back and tell them?”

Lady ladybug looked at the tiny trail they made from dragging Katycoon, “It shouldn’t take long, I hope.”

“Welcome back!” Mayor butterfly greeted the exhausted group of bugs; “I hope you go assistance from

‘the wise one’.”

Antony shuffled his little legs, “Um, sir, I mean, mayor, we didn’t have to go or even had time to get to ‘the wise one’.”

“What?” Mayor butterfly was flabbergasted, “We, send you bugs to go to ‘the wise one’. Do you know how important this task is?”

“You see Mayor.” Flash told Mayor butterfly, “We had… Problems.”

“What kind of problems made you turn down such an important task?” Mayor Butterfly’s wings shook in anger.

Katycoon’s muffled voice sounded from the cocoon, “Problem is on me. And answer though.”

“Katypillar!” Mayor butterfly looked shocked, “you, you turned into, a…”

“Katycoon,” Katycoon muttered, “they couldn’t lug me all the way to the wise one. It will take moons.”

“Eczactly,” Beetrice buzzed, “and wee don’t have time to goo to ze wize one. No food zeazon iz on it’z way.”

“Then what are supposed to do then?” Mayor asked icily, “I suppose we wait here and starve. Care for a piece of snowflake?”

“Great aunt Apple-plant survived this.” Katycoon pointed out, “So we can. Huddle close together. We can shelter in that little pine tree.”

50

Mayor still looked distraught, “and if it doesn’t work?”

The bugs looked at each other.

“You can cut our headz off.” Beetrice replied, the

others agreed.

5 moons later

Once upon a time there was a tiny bug village in the middle of a lush green meadow. Flowers of all kinds

bloomed; the grass was probably the greenish green you would have ever seen. Everyday, insect of every kind will be out from their huts doing their business. The strong bugs like ladybugs and beetles will be guarding the

village from invading aphids. Ants and silkworms would be doing their usual trading business, this time with distant villages. Athletes that are athletic like Beetrice and Flash would be preparing for upcoming sporting

events to help represent the village. Mayor Butterfly of the village, became a good leader from listening to other bugs opinions and by listening to stories of the ancient day told by Katerfly (Katycoon).

Since travelling was much easier from village to village when Katypillar and Antony cut down a trail on

their adventure, distant bugs from other villages came to this village. Some of the bugs came here to trade with some of the bugs. Some of the bugs decided to settle

down. Antony thought this was a chance to explore some distant villages like he never thought or dreamed off.

This place will remain like this for a while, Antony thought wistfully, as he travelled down the neatly cut road the will bring him to a new adventure he

will never imagine.

51

fall out boy is great

cause sugar we’re going down swinging

patrick pete andy joe

John, Dave, Rose and Jade

Sylladex and Pesterchum

Trolls and what pumpkin?

Haiku

By Alan Ke

Homestuck

By Alan Ke

Artwork by Alan Ke

Artwork by Alan Ke

52

Bunny was energetic and love to explore new things. So it didn’t surprise anyone when Bunny wanted to join the party with the other farm animals and pets from Lilac farm.

“I want to try it out.” Bunny protested, “Do I have to be a pet or farm animal to go to the party?”

“Well,” Cow flicked his tail, “Bulldog always hosts these parties. He’s quite strict on who’s coming and who isn’t. Sorry Bunny, rules are rules.” Bunny looked crestfallen.

“I just want to try it out,” Bunny muttered hopping away.

Kitten, her friend, who hated to see Bunny this sad quickly blocked her path, “Bunny, you don’t have to break rules to go to the party. You can simply be a pet for just one day.”

“Sure,” Bunny looked at Kitten sideways, “I don’t know how to be a pet though.”

“Oh, I will just teach you.” Kitten mewed, Bunny hopped with her.

I will learn everything about a pet. Bunny vowed silently to herself, this is going to be the best experience ever!

It was almost the party. Bunny was lazily chewing on a

piece of carrot that the humans gave to her. She wasn’t the

energetic bunny everyone knew. She was lazy, and sort of stubborn.

“I am totally ready.” Bunny boasted, ears up proudly, “Bulldog will approve me, I know it by heart!”

“I think so too.” Kitten mewed, twirling her tail with her paw, “You are going to rock!”

Bunny nodded, getting a piece of lettuce, “I’m starting to

get the hang of being a pet. Maybe I should be one permanently.”

“Permanently?” Kitten looked shocked, “Bunny, you use to be energetic and loved exploring things. How could you ever possibly want to be a pet?”

Puppy also butted in, “Bulldog told me that pets must be able to tell exactly where their cage is. And who are the

humans to attend.”

“What am I suppose to do then?”

“You will just have to choose which one to be.” Kitten mewed sternly.

Bunny thought for a moment, “I should probably ask my

mom. She would know what I should do.”

Bunny’s mom looked probably more surprised than Kitten when Bunny told her about her dilemma, “My dear, why on bunny history would you want to be a pet?”

Bunny and KittenBy Elizabeth Z.

“‘Do I have to be a pet?’”

53

“Bunny looked straight into Kitten’s eyes, “What do you think makes a pet really good?”

“Well,” kitten scratched her head, “You don’t need to do much. You don’t have to worry about anything. They keep you safe from dogs. And you have plenty of freedom.”

“Freedom?” Bunny gasped, “What do you call freedom?”

Kitten shrugged, “Bunnies don’t get much freedom as cats

do. But we get to roam around in the farm or house and they won’t mind, sometimes we wander around the fields and maybe eat a little bit of crops…”

“That isn’t freedom,” Bunny contradicted. “You are still a slave of the humans. Those places that you mentioned are still where humans go. So it’s just the same thing as

wandering around your master’s territory!”

Kitten was silent for a moment, they she mewed, “I think you should be a wild bunny.”

“I don’t know,” answered Bunny. “At first, I just wanted to feel what it was like. Now I know what it feels like. I like how you don’t have to do anything at all.”

“But you don’t have freedom anymore.” Bunny’s mom told Bunny, “You now serve the humans. You are a slave to them. Do you want that kind of life?”

“I suppose not,” Bunny muttered, twittering her foot. “But why do my friends serve the humans?”

“Because their ancestors were trained to serve the humans. They will be punished if they don’t,” Bunny’s mom said softly. “They don’t know how to take care of themselves

when they are in the wild.”

“Well?” Kitten asked as Bunny as she hopped towards her in a slow and careful pace, “Do you want to be a pet or be a wild carefree one.”


54

“Why?”

“You are born in the wild.” Kitten told Bunny, “Your fur is

brown with specks of black and yellow, perfect to hide from predators. Your leaps and hops are energetic. But a pet bunny can’t even dream of hopping that far. You belong in the wild. You don’t have to go to Bulldog’s party. You are a

wild bunny.”

Bunny went to her mom’s den to tell her the decision.

“I’m going to be a wild bunny,” Bunny told her. “I was born being one.”

On the calendar in a nearby house lies a series of swirly words glowing with bright red lines reading World War I on the date 1912. Eventually, those red words will evolve into a

glowing and burning black hole in the calendar and turn it to ash.

A dusty wind blows the calendar forcing it to the year 1945. The year the calendar sees its fate.

Somewhere near the calendar, a town lies still and silent in the country of Japan. Nagasaki trains its people and gives them courage. Unfortunately, courage and training will not

help you escape hell. Inside a nearby abandoned cabin, a highly developed radar with an eye and mind to infer the future shows an unknown blip while repeating a warning over and over hoping that someone can hear it and warn

everyone: run, there’s no hope, no one can save you, just sleep and don’t wake up, never wake up. Silence.

Seven o’clock wake up, time to get up, march, march, march! Its August 3, 1945! Get up! March, march, march. Sang the bell of the military tower. As Nagasaki’s well-trained military troops marched out of their cabinets, the

other side of town was still sleeping. Yes, that’s it, sleep and never wake up. Don’t wake up. Never wake up. Run. There’s no hope. No one can save you. Just sleep and don’t wake up.

It’s seven-thirty! Still not up? Wake up! Keep on marching, guard those prisoners! Don’t let one escape! Not

a single one. Nagasaki’s troops replied with a salute. The nearby town wakes up and its rosters croak loudly as if they were yawning. Run. There’s no hope. No one can save you. Just sleep and don’t wake up. Never wake up. The houses

all clean themselves with a nice wash from the friendly hose and some soap for the windows. All houses and its people

and roosters will suffer the same fate as the calendar in the nearby

house.

Until this day, no one had ever lived a day easily trespassing or

destroying Nagasaki. Nagasaki was no fool during the war. Nagasaki fought bravely and strongly. It trained itself day by day. Upgrading his defense day by day. Nagasaki was strong, and no one dared mess with it, until this day. You

can’t run. There’s no hope. No one can save you. Just sleep and don’t wake up. Never wake up.

Never Wake UpBy Vivian Z.

“There’s no hope. No one can save you. Just sleep

and don’t wake up.”

55

It’s eight o’clock! Time to eat! Time to eat! Stuff it down! Enjoy your breakfast! Enjoy your meal! Hell is closing in as Nagasaki hungrily and viscously gobbles down his food. In the village, Nagasaki’s houses resting

in the shadows after an hour of sunbathing. Sleep soon. No more time. Sleep. Don’t wake up. Never wake up.

It’s ten past eight! Go rest, sit on the grass, read a book, train, don’t care! Just rest, and enjoy your time! It’s a good day today Nagasaki! Enjoy! Nagasaki rests under the lazy sun enjoying the fresh breeze and the sound of

chirping birds sitting on the dancing trees. Run. There’s no hope. No one can save you. Just sleep and don’t wake up. Never wake up.

It’s eight-fourteen; time to tra- The speaker was cut off by a buzzing and whirring sound. Abruptly an alarm goes off with long and short

whirring noises. Nagasaki is confused! Its people are running around frantically, hiding. You can’t run.

There’s no hope. No one can save you. Just sleep and don’t wake up. Never wake up. Nagasaki

desperately tries to get up and run, but where to? Where to run? You can’t run. There’s no hope. No one can save you. Just sleep and don’t wake up. Never wake

up. In the corner of Nagasaki’s sky falls a dot as small as the eye can see. Everything appears in slow motion from here.

A clock in the nearby house next to the calendar is constantly ticking, ticking. Each tick is a scene of the

past; it all happened so fast. First of the large fast growing mushroom, then sound stops, everything stops. A burning sun burns the flesh and bone off Nagasaki. In a blink of an eye, the beautiful and strong Nagasaki turns to

dust and experiences the true life of war and hell.

It’s eight-fifteen, time- Glass turns to liquid, concrete

turns to dust, the living turns to ash, and Nagasaki goes to hell.

Silence. Horror. Hell. Death. You can’t run. There’s no hope. No one can save you. Just sleep and don’t wake up.

Never wake up. You didn’t listen. You didn’t hear…. Silence.

~ Story dedicated to Japan for the nightmarish event of

the atomic bombing on August 6 and 9 1945 ~

Artwork by Gabby Andaras

56

A brick ruffled the neat hedgehogs of Prize Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky skylight, the very last

plan you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harvest Poultry rolled over inside his bleach pool without

waking up. One small handbag closed on the lettuce beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be

woken in a few hours’ time by Mrs. Dusk’s screenplay as she opened the front doorbell to put out the milkman

bows, nor that he would spend the next few weekdays being prodded and pinched by his cousin Duet…He

couldn’t know that at this this very moment, peppers, meeting in secret all over the cove were holding up their

glassware and saying in hushed voids: “To Harvest Poultry – the brain who lived!

I took a block of text from a famous book, and changed each one to the next noun in line from the dictionary here:http://www.eflnet.com/vocab/wordlists/noun_list

See if you can guess where it came from.

The Tale of Harvest PoultryBy Alex L.

Artwork by Alan Ke

http://www.eflnet.com/vocab/wordlists/noun_list

http://www.eflnet.com/vocab/wordlists/noun_list

57

I can’t say that

We can have ourselves a purpose without contributing to society.

It is true that

Failure is not an option

And

Trying our best is not enough

It is a lie to say that

We can become what we desire

But this could all change if we could just turn it around:

A future is all we live for

I will never accept that

You can be happy without money

It is true that

Only work can bring you out, and

It’s a lie to say

It’s OK to fail

But

It is important to be the best

Stress is caused when we say that

Life will work without achievements

I cling to the ideal that

“We must get into a good university”

I think do not believe that

Having friends

Is more important than

Money

Reverse PoemBy Ryan S.Artwork by Emma X.

Artwork by Emma Xu

58

The Moon

Light that fills the night skyRadiant as royalty

A diamond, reflecting a thousand of rays of lightThe mystery of the glowAn orb of luminescence

Staring down on usAn eye of pure brightness

The StarsThe gentle splash of water as it laps against the sea shoreThe silver sparkle of light glanced off the waters surface

The glimmers in the skyEach filled with it’s own beauty

Their shine is unparalleledStretching over all of the land and sea

DarknessAn empty theaterThe damp earthSeeing nothing

It is overpowering and coldIt is complicated yet simple

Subtle yet bold

This is the night

This is the NightBy Naina K.

59

She wears too many friendship bracelets

For she is everyone’s friend

And everyone is hers

One day I saw her cry

Like I’ve seen no one cry before

I could feel her hurt

And that night I cried as well

She’s begun to cry more often

And her heartwarming smile is gone

Her chiming laugh is gone

And I can feel her hurt

She stains her sunny hair

She shadows her blueberry eyes

She gives up colors that match her eyes

For colors that match her mind

She gives friendship bracelets for scars

There is a girl

And she is beautiful

The way she lives

Is beautiful

Her hair is rays of the sun

Her eyes, ripe blueberries

Her lips, the scarlet of a crayon

Her skin, a freckled field of wheat

Her smile is hot chocolate on a winter’s day

Her laugh, Christmas bells

Her mind, a garden of blooming flowers

Her presence, a blessing

She dresses in colors that match her eyes

There is a GirlBy Henny H.

60

For she is no one’s friend

And no one is hers

To her I am non existent

She’s growing used to white walls

And black shadows

To all these pills

And hospital rooms

I can no longer feel her hurt

I no longer understand it

I’ve seen her less and less

Then not ever again

There was a girl

And she was beautiful

The way she died

Was not beautiful

Artwork by Emma Xu

61

Oh, I kept Word for another day!

Yet knowing how work leads on to play

I doubted if I should ever use it again…

I shall be telling this with a tear in my eye

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two apps diverged on my desktop and I—

I chose to make a Text Edit file…

And that has made no difference.

Two applications diverged in my desktop folder

And sorry I could not use both,

But be a one student, my harsh mind grew colder

And stared, unmoving like a glacial boulder

To notice my low battery where it lagged in the top-right corner

So I closed my tabs (to save battery, I had to deduce)

And having perhaps, the better layout

Because Text Edit was simpler and saved my electronic juice

Though it mattered not for I found why my charger was loose

So they both helped my writing really about the same,

And both that evening equally lay

In formatting no fool had changed astray

The App Least OpenedBy Alex Le

Artwork by Emma Xu

62

Poetry with a FlourishBy Selene Z.

65

She spent her days in the library,

Hidden behind her daily choice of fairytales in her normal nook.

She could draw and she could sing.

People always admired the doodles she drew on her notebooks.

She was the tall 5 pm streetlights during summer,

Some would notice that they were on too early in the day,

The rest would’ve seen the lights as part of the sorbet colored sky,

Blended into the warm summer like background colors.

I knew nothing much about her,

Just her birthday when the teacher announced it in class,

And that she liked to draw.

Apart from her special name,

There was nothing that stood out about her,

So I made no effort getting to know her.

But how are you to know that she didn’t laugh like a playful hyena?

Or that she hated milk chocolate?

Or that she liked writing her name over and over?

Or that her mother never paid close attention to her?

She blended into the crowd like a pebble in the ocean,

Unnoticeable.

But I knew she was somewhere there.

When she left I was the only one to notice.

No one knew that she left until I had spoken up about it.

She had somehow blended into the crowd of familiar faces,

Like a quiet bee in a field of wildly growing daisies,

But I had noticed.

BlendedBy Sidney Choi

66

Her footsteps grew quieter day by day,

She was a cloud slowly merging into the blue sky,

Breaking apart delicately and unnoticeably,

Till blended completely with the blue of the azure.

One day they realized she sat there no more,

And they knew she wasn’t strolling behind them on their walk back home.

And still to this day and after this – many more,

I can’t bring myself to step through the bus doors.

I had noticed she didn’t like listening to the teacher read,

That she observed others with sympathetic eyes,

But she still became lost in the sea of students,

Like a piece of wood surrounded by tall flames of burning fire.

She was like a growing egg outside the windows tall,

Sitting in her mother’s nest next to the rest,

Waiting for her true self to crack open from her outer shell.

I had seen sides of her no one else had thought she had,

How she liked writing stories about women protagonists in magical dimensions,

Like how she always added vanilla ice cream to her coke soda,

And how she grew quiet at the sound of the word blood.

But the sad part about this story was that no one else noticed what she did,

To everyone else she was the quiet one that sat at the front of the bus,

The one that walked slowly behind on the walk back to the house,

Like a shadow following the owner who sometimes forgot she was there.

67

Mankind won’t exist,

Machines have replaced us,

Our ideals, fade in the mist.

Far into the future,

Mankind won’t exist,

Their inventions remain,

In our place, they persist.

New languages that have yet to come,

Cuisines making oil into stew.

Fashion made from scrapped metal drums.

The new world, a new chance for you.

But who’s to say this world is better?

Where things like emotions are now just letters,

Happiness to delight, anger to smite,

The man, the machines, an empty Cight.

Far into the future,

A World of MachinesBy Chris T.

AnchorBy Sabrina C.

Never thought I’d sink down this low,

I’m an anchor while everyone else is on the boat.

Never thought I’d be treated this way,

I’m thrown out to sea every single day.

Never thought I’d see the bottom of the ocean,

I’m constantly choking on desolation.

Never thought I’d see such vicious Cish in the sea,

I’m scared as hell but I can’t Clee.

Never thought I’d be stuck between a rock and a hard place,

68

I’m being clawed on every single day.

Never thought I’d just be sitting down there,

I’m stuck as the anchor, and that’s why I’m here.

Artwork by Emma Xu

69

It’s when terrorists hi-‐jacked cargo planes,

It’s when innocents were killed and slain,

It’s when the thick smoke made the colors faint,

It’s when hope was the only thing we can retain.War.

It’s when bullets fell like heavy rain,

It’s when dead bodies covered the plain,

It’s when everyone’s heart were Cilled with pain,

It’s when peace was caged and locked in chains.

War.

It’s when buildings burned in dark-‐red Clames,

It’s when poisons were poured down the Cilthy drains,

It’s when disasters made the people insane,

It’s when tanks were driven on biking lanes.

War.

It’s when bombs were hidden in passenger trains,

It’s when venom Clowed in our unhealthy veins,

It’s when people started to buy cocaine,

It’s when the horrible death was no longer arcane.

War.

WarBy Andie N.

70

returned, the lights of a small island, likely Guam. It felt like Lindbergh receiving his hero’s welcome after hours spent above the eerie Atlantic. The PaciCic seemed paciCied again, unlike the night’s turbulent behavior. But it knew not to let its guard down; turbulence, typhoons, and turmoil were ahead, and it was approaching at an alarming speed.

As the warning lights blinked feverishly, the aircraft suddenly felt a surge of apprehension. It thin aluminum build was not made to conquer what lay ahead. The raging storm, its bolts looked like deadly claws, outshining the hazy sun by a million times; its clouds, unlike those on the opposite coast. These were dark and grey, moving about as if it was imploding and exploding at the same time – Cirst contracting, then expanding, shattering the skies with a deafening boom.

There were only two ways to get past, both not preferred by either passenger or plane. One, a sheer,

gasoline-‐tank churning drop, air currents slamming into the hull, or another, a slow, arduous climb, resulting in sore wings, and over-‐heated engines.

As storm and plane collided towards each other, the plane knew that it couldn’t stay in the grey area for long. The beast was approaching, 10 miles, 9

miles. Radar indicated spots of dark-‐red, hauntingly resembling blood.

The seconds ticked by, each second a whisper from a soul that would perish from within the beast. The plane jolted itself up, the cylindrical body crushed by the G-‐forces. The engine spat out yellow sparks, each spark a bullet cutting through an expanse of ice crystals, swallowing everything in its path.

The plane had made the right choice. Losing altitude meant being trapped: frothing waves below, and the eye of the beast above. Now, at 53,400 feet, the sky glowed a hazy azure, the warm sun gleaming on the battered plane. The bolts of electricity glowed below, the beast’s clouds a bruise; a dark purple, as if exploding into an endless rage. The danger was below them now.

The plane lowered its Claps. It heaved a sigh as its engines roared to life, sending deafening sound across the vicinity. Inside the cockpit, surrounded by the mufCled sound, it strained to listen to the ATC transmitter. It couldn’t fail now. A misheard word meant a one-‐way ticket to the scrap yard. It stared ahead at the horizon: the end of the runway and the beginning of the Clight. Dark clouds gathered there, an ominous sign for what’s to come. As it gathered speed, the roar of the engines was replaced by the howling wind. The supersonic speed skimmed the tires, leaving a clean black streak across the endless asphalt strip. An agonizing wave of pain deluged the aircraft, the scarred pieces of rubber peeling off. But that didn’t matter. Passengers did. One calculation error could lead to their doom.

It folded down the gear, protecting it from the wind like the mother guards her young. It cut through the air, climbing a transparent slope of air that seemingly led up to heaven. It was less tense now; the critical start was over. But it was still vigilant. Storms were underneath it now, but night lay ahead. It would be Clying with only the light of its radar in a matter of time.

As dusk fell, the sky appeared as sparse and empty as ever. There was no longer anything to keep it company; Cincinnati was over a thousand miles away, and the playful clouds stopped as a blue, now black, ocean started. There were no city lights below, only waves that could not be heard, and a sea that could not be seen. There were no stars today, not even the moon to stare emptily at it. There wasn’t even the sun to keep it company anymore, only its lights blinking away in an ever-‐dark world.

The plane’s wings were sore, it’s hull churned painfully with unused gasoline, but it was elated when the glimpse of morning shone overhead. The clouds

An Aircraft’s AdventuresBy Ryan S.

“The seconds ticked by, each second a whisper from a soul that would perish from within the

beast.”

71

be sent to a scrap yard in this rundown district. The plane shut its radar down. Its engines held their breath. It prepared itself for the agonizing wave of pain and the ear-‐splitting screeching sound when the gear would make contact with the strip. It calculated the remaining altitude until impact. 130, 110, 90. The white engravings could now be easily seen: 36L. Each 100 meters was a yellow dash. In total, there were around 35 dashes. Going to number 36 meant certain death.

90 feet, and 8 seconds later, the plane felt for the Cirst time, the ground of a world 10000 miles away. It almost seemed soothing, the pain, that was generated by the intense friction from the airstrip against gear. The world, to the plane, seemed a touch gentler, and a square mile smaller, because it had Clown through the perilous bridge that connected the two worlds. The pain, was only a message that said: “You survived”.

The plane dragged its itself over to the glistening terminal, worn but victorious. The magniCicent, gleaming, 7-‐story structure glowed in the midnight sky; itself, a self-‐sustaining city, the plane’s paradise.

As the plane gazed into the terminal Ciled with content passengers, it knew that being scrapped was now out of the question.

The dim, unnatural brightness just ahead gave signs to a city on the coastline. The cement land ahead was much better than a dull blue that stretched to inCinity, at any rate.

Layer of clouds whisked by, the plane plowing away through the white Cluff. Below the ceiling was another world: a superCluous amount of concrete towers, bordered by spaghetti junctions. Light shed by buildings and the microscopic dots that were identiCied as automobiles made the sun seem inconspicuous in the pale, dusky sky. This was a different world from the sleepy, timid coastline of Cincinnati.

Here, the sea ended, and the city began. The coastline seemed to swallow the ocean, making the sea as small as ever compared to the concrete jungle. Below, light reClected off the towers clad in glass gave off a blue tint; the plane hovering just feet above. A single movement would send those fragile panes hurling off into the night sky, and leave a gaping, leaking wound in the eagle soaring above.

Gradually, city lights dimmed, buildings decreased in height, but the plane remained as tense. This was the Cinal leg. Danger was no longer below, but ahead. One asphalt strip, only 49 meters wide, was the only road to safety. At 2500 feet up, the runway seemed as thin as a blade edge, and that was how lethal it was to be.

The CBD now disappeared into oblivion, replaced by squat, ramshackle houses and blue, tin-‐roofed warehouses. The tiny structures congealed themselves to form an endless expanse of concrete ruin, with tiny alleyways separating each concrete load from the next. It was a zoom-‐in on chapped skin, with the occasional grain of pollen or virus stuck to it. The airport, an architectural marvel, with it’s thin, two-‐mile long asphalt strips, seemed out of place in this mess. As the plane opened it’s gear bay, bracing itself for the burning sensation that would leave a fresh mark on the strip, the coagulated mess of warehouses backed off, revealing a Clat expanse with a set of runways and the shimmering lights shed from the plane’s haven: the airport.

Gradually, the plane lowered its fragile hull. Only the gear could make contact. One scrape would wreck havoc to itself and the passengers. Besides, it had no means to

72

I saw him running towards the next block, he was way swifter than I imagined. He was not as grizzled as I imagined either his grey eyes made me think that he was old and lonely but I had never seen his face because it was always covered with his mouth high collar. The only things that I ever saw were his eyes, sorrowful and strained. I ran straight towards him zigzagging through the pedestrians on the sidewalk. I turned to the next block where the “Man in black” had run, but I saw no sign of him. I had lost him again. My curiosity Clattered and my mouth became a frown against my face. Without warning two hands stretched across my face covering my eyes and mouth. A slight scream escaped my mouth, but it was too muted that nobody could have heard it. After that I remembered nothing!

My eyes slowly opened, my vision blurry from tears. Sweat was dripping from my pale white forehead. My eyes are bulging painfully against my skull. I was sitting in a faded brown chair, my arms resting carefully on the arm rests.

“Where am I?” I inquired, my voice shaky from the crying.

From the darkness a Cigure formed. He was about 18 years old no… 16. He was

dressed in a moss T-‐Shirt and Dark blue jeans. His brown hair brushed slightly against his tan skin. He seemed unfamiliar, except those light grey eyes, still as empty.

“It…It’s you” I slight murmured under my breath.

The man in black! It can’t be him; he seemed so old and fragile. But, those eyes they are unforgettable the rare grey shade the same emptiness.

“Hi, I am Titus, Welcome Tyesha!” he said with a faint smile

“Where am I? ” I thrashed with an amazingly collected voice.

Prologue:

It all started like this~

“Your life is in danger. Say nothing to anyone. You must leave the city immediately and never return.” That’s what the fortune cookie said. My heart skipped a beat!

The letters were written in black ink on blood red paper. I glanced around looking for some eyes that would answer my questions but none did. Then suddenly I saw a black smother in the front glass panes near the restaurant’s entrance. My eyes soon recognized the black smother, as it re-‐appeared slightly peeking from the glass pane. It was the man in black! The one who always kept his eyes on me whenever I was out of my house. I had always wondered why that man was always there? A few times I even mustered the courage to go talk to him but he as always would wander away before I could catch up to him. It was a secret that I was not willing to share with my parents or close friends. “The man in black” as I had nicknamed him because he was always wearing a pitch black blazer and lead black trousers. Only his desolated grey eyes where not the color of licorice. I quickly got up from my seat my brain blinded from reasoning by the blindfold of curiosity. I sprinted towards the door leading me out of the Chinese restaurant without leaving a wave of departure.

I followed him through the bustling crowd. Making sure he does not notice me. I was so close now shufCling through the crowd fast but silently. Suddenly, his head turned and his eyes met mine. I saw my pale reClection in them, my brown long hair scattered on my face my green eyes alert, my mouth wide open. He turned and ran, ran straight out of my sight. I quickly regained my senses hurdling through the crowd out of the door.

Metal ManBy Gauri K.

“That’s what the fortune cookie said. My heart

skipped a beat!”

73

The guard spat at the prisoner,”You have the nerve to call yourself a man and even breathe the same air as an honorable soldier such as me after what you did to your friends and family, you demon?!”

“Hah! An honorable soldier? You? What do you know about being honorable? And before you start throwing around accusations at me, go and try to experience my torture Cirsthand, why don’t you?” The prisoner snarled at the guard, lunging at him so viciously that the guard took a hasty step back. Just far enough that he was standing right beyond how far the chains shackled to the prisoners wrists let him move. If he’d been just the tiniest bit slower he was sure his throat would have been torn out by the other mans unnaturally sharp teeth.

Regaining his composure the guard grabbed the prisoners dark hair and lifted his head up to meet his eyes and sneered at him, “Lacking the strength to break free of your chains, monster?” the guard taunted.

“Looks like that explains why you act so high and mighty when I’m chained up by magic metal. Your pathetic little group of newbie leaders think they can make it through the war by replacing The Seven and other demigod veterans with idiots and mortals like you!?” he curled his lip at him so that the guard could now clearly see teeth that were sharp as knives and chipped dangerously, like a sharks almost, accompanied by abnormally long and wickedly sharp fangs grew from where his canines should be. “You lot are way more stupid than I thought.”

Slitted pupils were enveloped by a cold and furious sea green that raged like a storm. The guard was still for a moment,

entranced by his luminous eyes, almost jealous of their rich color, and felt self conscious of his own bleak blue irises. The guard blinked in surprise at his own feelings and shook off the unease he felt before kicking savagely at the prisoner several times in the stomach. “Keep your Cilthy mouth shut, you disgusting backstabber. You think you have the right to live after selling your soul to the enemy?”

“You… well aren’t you going to introduce yourself? But I already know you” he slightly smiled.

“First tell me where I am and why are you here?” I rashly asked my curiosity unable to be controlled.

“Umm…. Okay so you are here to save the world from domination!” He said abruptly

“What kind of a joke is this!”? My voice rising, my breaths shallow

And then, there was an empty silence…

The door to the dark, Cilthy room screeched open. A guard with dirty blonde hair and watery blue eyes strutted in, a leather whip hung at his belt. He glanced warily around the dark room, before switching on the light. Weak light Clickered on, spilling from a single naked light bulb that dangled from the ceiling. “Tch.” The guard looked upon the slumped Cigure of a man that was leaning against the opposite wall with disgust. He drew the whip from his belt with an unexperienced fumble and cracked it dangerously near the other mans head.

“Feeling a little weak, ugly?” He taunted.

The man’s jab was met with a sharp retort, “Feeling a little over conCident against a restrained man, newbie?”

The Final WaveBy Sarah K.

“You think you have the right to live after selling your soul to the enemy?”

74

Drew slid one perfectly manicured and Clawless Cinger under the mans chin, lifting his sly, grinning face up to face her own properly.

Luring violet eyes met luminescent sea green.

“Of course. Wouldn’t you like to be whole again and reunited with your friends and family, Sir Perseus Jackson?”

BASIC SUMMARY:

A hand reaches out, offering a priceless deal, and at most, changing the fate of the world. Swords strike against one another, held up in defense and Clung in a risky counter attack. Arrows howl through the night, burying deep within their targets. All over the world there are burning, raging souls that collide with one another. Will all of these magical forces unite to Cight for family and friends or will they clash in violent battles spilling more blood and causing endless misunderstandings? Their lives are quickly falling apart and they face enemies they have never before. Unimaginable risks and bargains are struck and the world depends on the handful of heroes that survive in all of the chaos that surge upon them. An overwhelming Wave of Chaos and Destruction towers of our favorite heroes, threatening to crash over them. What will happen to them? And by them, who are these warriors?

The prisoner raised his head in surprise, “Backstabber? Selling my soul?” His voice was laced with incredulousness and anger, his slit pupils narrowing even further until they were shards of dark fury, “You don’t even know what actually happened do you? They haven’t told you anything. Oh you poor thing, deceived by your higher ups. You haven’t even seen an actual monster, have you? What a pitiful thing the Demigod Union has become!” He roared the last words with such ferocity that the guard took a step back once again. The guard felt a strange sense of despair and fear as he gazed unintentionally deeper into the torture swimming within the prisoners glare.

“You’re just trying to mess with me, liar.” But the guards voice shook revealing how heavily affected he was by his words. Behind him the heavy metal door to the room opened with a echoing clunk. The prisoners attention slid to the source of disturbance and the guard swiveled around meeting face to face with a beautiful asian woman clothed in greek robes. Three other men clad in bronze armor stood by her. The guard dropped to one knee with his head bowed in respect.

“Lady OmorCi.” The guard spoke in awe.

“You are dismissed, thank you for keeping watch over the criminal.” The woman waved her hand and the guard shufCled out of the room obediently.

The prisoner stared at the woman in shock for several moments before roaring with laughter. The lady frowned in disapproval. “You?! You’re OmorCi?! Gods, I was wondering who this new “glamour goddess” was. Goddess of Gorgeousness? More like Goddess of Gore. What exactly do you think you’re doing here, Drew Tanaka?!” He spat.

“I’m here to take the position as the new, better goddess of beauty and love, in the Unions Circle.” Drew lowered herself to meet the prisoners serpentine eyes. “And you, my dear, play an extremely important role in this war.”

The man in leaned his head back against the Cilthy wall, sighing in disbelief. “You say that as if you expect me to cooperate without protest. I suspect that you have gotten ahold of something that guarantees my interest?” He grinned, Clashing his fangs at her.

75

Family is more important than money.

Family is more important than money.

I shall never think that

Possessions are more valuable than family.

And it is true that

Friendship is worth more than Money.

Never succumb to believe that

Money is the key to all.

I shall always remember

Love is worth any price.

And it is a lie that

Money builds everything.

Always remember that

Friends and family

Always comes Cirst before

Greed.

I will never forget that

Wealth is a sin.

And never shall I believe that

Money is life.

Money is life.

And never shall I believe that

wealth is a sin.

I will never forget that

Greed

Always comes Cirst before

Friends and family.

Always remember that

Money builds everything.

And it is a lie that

Love is worth any price.

I shall always remember

Money is the key to all.

Never succumb to believe that

Friendship is worth more than Money.

And it is true that

Possessions are more valuable than family.

I shall never think that

GreedBy Ryan S.

76

In the dark laboratory the fume hood beeped, “Warning shield cover too high, shield cover too high please lower.”

A mechanical arm twisted around and held on to the cover handle trying to pull the cover down. “Ouch!” shouted the fume hood. “My cover is jammed.”

Mean while the evil chemical within the fume hood was laughing and jeering at the fume hood. “Har Har Har, you will never get it down in time to save the scientists.”

Suddenly the warning light on the fan went off. The fan said “Out of power, fan out of power, turning off.” Indicator lights all around the laboratory blinked off one by one like a cool light show. It was like watching all the machines dying.

The bottle of Boron exclaimed to the other chemicals on the shelves, “Wake up! Wake up! Chemical X is awake, and we need to stop him.”

The tank of Oxygen blinked open. “No one’s going to listen to you Boron, you’re so boring.” “There is nothing wron…” He too saw the escaping Chemical X and they shouted in chorus, “ Wake up everyone we need to save the scientists.” Instantly all of the chemicals hopped up and prepared for the problem. Sulfur unplugged an extension cord and tied it tightly to the shelf. All of the other chemicals used it as a rope to climb down to the tiled Cloor. They regrouped and headed of to the fume hood. When the lead Oxygen tank reached the Cloor below the fume hood he realized the problem. It was one meter up, only hydrogen could Cloat up onto the shelf. Hydrogen Oxygen’s friend so Oxygen decided to let hydrogen Cloat up and talk with the malfunctioning fume hood.

When hydrogen Cinally got up Chemical X had already risen half up the side of the fume hood and was slowly getting higher. “Help me.” Gasped the fume hood. “The

The sun rises in the East,

And sets in the West,

But my day only starts when I see you.

Every day,

before night,

I wait for the the day to rise,

Another chance to see you

Another chance to be with you.

Light opens up the world,

But you open up my heart,

A chance to be with you,

Is even sweeterthan chocolate fondue.

You are special,

Just like a star,

Floating in the night sky,

But a star isn’t as beautiful,

As the sight of you.

My Day has StartedBy Gernot T.

Chemical XBy Davy Z.

77

circuit breaker has been Clipped. I do not have enough power to activate my ventilation fan.” Hydrogen asked, “Where is the circuit breaker?” “It’s in the room there the all of the machines ar…” Suddenly the fume hood gave of a small sigh and ran out of power.

Hydrogen slowly Cloated down and told Oxygen what he had heard. Oxygen nodded once and shouted to everyone “We’re going to the machine room.”

The machine room was damp and dusty. Just as Oxygen stepped over the threshold…

BOOM!!!

Chemical X had rigged the area with explosives and laid a trip wire just inside the doorway. Luckily none of the elements were hurt and they proceeded, albeit more carefully. There, up there was the power box that controlled the power in the laboratory. This time they could not use hydrogen to Cloat up because there was a vent on the wall below the box and hydrogen could get suck in. The vent however opened up another opportunity to get to the power box. Sulfur looked around hoping to Cind where they could get into the vent. His eyes fell on the Cloor plan that happened to be lying on a desk.

“According to this drawing there should be another vent lower down, next to the UV sanitation unit.”

“Furthermore the vent goes forward about six meters, then turns right four meters, goes up eight meters and Cinally goes forward two meters.”

Oxygen decided for everyone to go into the vent using sulfur as a guide. It was a long and tedious job; Cinally only one thing was stopping them from helping the fume hood. It lay in the form of a 3-‐meter deep gap in the middle of the shaft. Their only hope was to clime down one side and clime up the other side. But how to get down safely…

Oxygen pondered the question for a while and suddenly got a good idea. She called for the group to be silent and spoke: “Everyone I have found a way to get down, we need hydrogen to Cloat up the other side holding the rope and tie it onto the power lever. Then we all pull and hopefully we can turn the power back on.

Hydrogen Cloated up the other side and tied the rope onto the switch.

Oxygen gave everyone a place on the rope and started the count down. “Three, two, one PULL!!!” The switch moved a few millimeters then stopped. “Again PULL.”

There was an ugly silence when suddenly there was a ear spitting SNAP and all the chemicals fell over.

Hydrogen was the Cirst to recover,

“Did we do it?”

There was no need to reply as the bright Cluorescent lights blinked on. At Cirst there was only stunned silence, then: “YAY WE DID IT!!!!”

There was a drawn out scream, which ended abruptly. “I think that was Chemical X getting sucked into the ventilation fan.”

“Hooray, we successfully saved the scientists.”

“Wake up! Chemical X is awake, and we need to

stop him.”

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