Poems on Turtle Shells - Closter Public Schools

Transcription

Poems on Turtle Shells
Scripta
2014-2015
Tenakill Middle School
Closter, New Jersey
“Behold the turtle, who makes
progress only when he sticks his
neck out.”
Scripta, a non-profit publication, is produced annually by students of Tenakill Middle School, Closter, New Jersey.
All work included is student-generated and student-edited. Scripta invites any student of Tenakill interested in
having his or her writing or art appear in the magazine to submit work for consideration. Submissions are
presented anonymously at weekly meetings held from September through June. The deadline for submissions is
April 1. Any student interested in joining the Scripta staff may contact a Tenakill Language Arts teacher for
information.
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Scripta
Volume XI
2014-2015
Literary and Art Magazine
Tenakill Middle School
275 High Street
Closter, New Jersey 07624
Superintendent and Interim Principal: Ms. Joanne Newberry
Vice Principal: Dr. Robert Hyman
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Staff and Credits
Staff
Zana Allajbegu
Barbara Gilman
Matthew Gonzales
Connor Goranson
Robin Gwak
Jeanne Hagen
Jacqueline Kim
Matthew Kim
Diva Kothari
Ishikaa Kothari
Isabelle Lee
Lauren Lee
Emily Luo
Julianna Marton
Parth Mehta
Joshua Meininger
Naomi Meininger
Ava Miller
Katherine Miller
Tula Nicholson
Chaeyoon Ok
Meryem Ozgen
Rhea Patel
Aneesa Saha
Vama Shah
Aliyah Siddiqui
Katie Vandermel
Maya Yacouel
Advisor
Ms. Nancy Kern
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2014-2015
Tenakill Language Arts Department
Barbara Cullere, Supervisor
Mary Auriti
Rachel Bell
Erica Cho
Kerry Frazer
Nancy Kern
Judy Lagomarsino
Jennifer Levy
Alexandra Meril
Rhonda Starer
Colleen Tirtirian
Closter Board of Education
Anthony Linn, President
Ann Ginsberg, Vice President
Chris Kwon
Stephanie Lee
Gregg Lambert
Dina Marinaccio
Peter Micera
Grace Park
Carmen Pfeiffer
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Table of
Contents
Poetry
Dream Dance
Real?
To My Flightless Friend
Barbershop
Prison of Illness
Ghosts
Ten
The Other Side
Tired Pencil
Clicking Trouble
Highway
My Room
Baseball
Red ‘N Ripe
An Atrocious Achoo
Untitled
Limbo
Untitled
Sea Green
No Umbrella
Not Just Yet
Finding the Key
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8
8
9
16
17
20
21
22
32
33
38
39
44
44
45
52
59
60
61
66
68
69
Emily Luo
Connor Goranson
Zana Allajbegu
Justin Hwang
Katie Vandermel
Chaeyoon Ok
Anastasia Tavares
Chaeyoon Ok
John Paul Alker
Giulia Muller
Matthew Gonzales
Yuval Nathaniel
Joshua Meininger
Nicholas Yim
Barbara Gilman
Lauren Lee
Lauren Lee
Alice Militaru
Meryem Ozgen
Yahav Manor
Jeanne Hagen
Abby Rozen
Prose
Happiness
A Nonexistent Sequel to the Real “Little Red Riding Hood”
Together
Step-by-Step
Gone
The Faithful Falcon
A Pig Named Snort Snort
Moving On
Coming Home
Speaking With My Past Self
No One to Hold Going Home
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18
23
24
30
34
40
46
54
62
67
Maya Yacouel
Katherine Miller
Shira Pardo
Eden Glick
Zana Allajbegu
Tula Nicholson
Abby Rozen
Aliyah Siddiqui
Katie Vandermel
Matthew Gonzales
Barbara Gilman
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15
16
19
20
23
24
29
31
33
35
39
41
44
46
53
58
61
65
67
68
Robin Gwak
Diva Kothari
Zana Allajbegu
Emily Luo
Jacqueline Kim
Diva Kothari
Katherine Miller
Katherine Miller
Isabelle Lee
Isabelle Lee
Maya Yacouel
Lauren Lee
Jacqueline Kim
Diva Kothari
Ishikaa Kothari
Lauren Lee
Zana Allajbegu
Emily Luo
Lauren Lee
Katherine Miller
Isabelle Lee
Jackie Kim
Art
Cover
Mirror Image
Half Asleep and Hovering
Scissors
Little Red Riding Hood
Ghosts
I Can Wait But I Think the Flowers Will Wilt
Freedom to Dream
Abstract
Abstract
Spilled Pencils
Synergistic Bond
Messy Room
Pig
Ripe Tomato
Intrepid
Beast’s Eye
Dark Forest
Darkness
Sided Thoughts
Umbrella
Yield to Time
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Dream Dance
by Emily Luo
My dream is to dance, and I am a boy.
Mama wasn’t supportive when I told her about my dream.
Papa didn’t listen at all.
I still wanted to dance, so I signed up anyway.
Today was the dance. I hid behind all the girls.
“Mirror Image” Diva Kothari
Real?
by Connor Goransen
When?
Where?
What?
Who?
Everything.
Real?
Or just a dream?
When we die
do we just wake up and start a new life?
Or do we just disappear from the world?
Or do we stay,
watching and listening to everyone and everything,
traveling the world,
undetected.
Is life real?
Or is it just a dream?
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To My Flightless Friend
by Zana Allajbegu
People say we’re the same
They’re wrong
I live in a cold place
You live in an even colder place
I can :ly
You can’t
What in the world
Makes them think that I’m like you?
I can see towns of slow-‐walking creatures
Mountains lurking in the distance
You can see
Ice
White glass next to water
I can see
Rolling green hills
And beautiful lakes
Sprinkled with powder in the winter
If you look up at the sky
Sometimes
You might see colors
Chartreuse, turquoise, gold
Against the darkness
Can you see that?
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HAPPINESS, A Tale of Levity and Levitation
By Maya Yacouel
I need to write down all of it to
believe that it really is true. Because
this is real life, and I know it. Dreams
can’t be that long, now, can they?
Impossible, amazing stuff, if you know
what I mean. First week of summer, I
just finished eleventh grade. None of it
is possible, but that doesn’t change the
fact that it isn’t true. Everything did
happen, exactly as I’m going to tell it
now.
I was lying comfortably on a pile
of fluffy white pillows, which were
obviously filled with the fluffiest, most
luxurious feathers there can be, since I
was the king’s daughter.
My father
was the king of the sky, of course, and
I was waaaay up in the sky, where
humans cannot breathe.
But I was
special.
I could breathe waaaay up
here. A trusted servant brought me my
favorite juice, apricot nectar, in my
favorite golden goblet. I asked for
more, and the servant rushed towards
the kitchen, trying to impress me to
get a pay raise. While he was gone, I
sighed to myself, “What a life! And
when is that servant bringing my jui-“
“Mae! Wake up! We’re going to a…
picnic, and I know that you’re listening,
so don’t fall asleep!” The usual wakeup voice my mom uses rang through
my ears.
I HATE waking up early!!!!!! An
image popped in my head: my mom,
being chased and then punished by my
father, king of the sky (he’s only my
father in my dream!) She would be
hanged for waking me up so early!
Suddenly feelings of regret and
sadness of mom being hanged filled my
stomach, and they chased away those
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horrid images which filled my head
only moments ago. How early was it,
anyway? I asked myself to change the
subject.
I opened one eye to look to my
right at the alarm clock. I opened my
other eye, and both of them widened in
shock and surprise. I rubbed my eyes.
I looked again.
It was still there,
impossible to miss--my perfectly
painted lavender wall. I blinked. I
rubbed my eyes. Again. And again.
Still there. The entire time. I looked
to my left and saw another perfectly
painted lavender wall, except that
under this one was my bed. On the
other side of the room. Under me was
the floor, and right above my head, the
ceiling, which couldn’t be more than a
foot away from my head.
Wait. Now might be a good time
to tell you a little about myself. I am a
sixteen year-old girl. I go to
Springfield High School, and I
cheerlead for the Springfield Cougars. I
am 5 feet 4 inches tall, and I have
green eyes and light brown hair. I am
also very social and daring. I like to
draw, read, and write, so I take
advanced art and Language Arts
classes.
I am messy. My room is always
messy. For example: my bed. My
towel is always on it, instead of drying
in the bathroom. My pillow is on the
wrong side of the bed, my blanket
hanging half off it. My stuffed animals
are usually on my desk instead of on
the bed, which is never made.
My
dirty clothes are all over the crumpled
carpet, my homework is sprawled all
over the dusty floor. All my stuff is
usually in piles, and even after the
cleaning lady comes, my room is
messed up all over again after about
an hour.
Back to my story. I was still
there, up high, so I pinched myself,
the hardest I could manage. This was
pretty hard, apparently.
“OOOOOOUUUUUUUCCCCCC
CHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I yelled in
pain. So this was real. But it couldn’t
be.
It just couldn’t! It was
impossible. Flying, or hovering, or
floating, or whatever you want to call
it, that kind of stuff was just fantasy.
I never liked those princess movies
when I was little. I would’ve rather
to read books about animals or
plants, and when I didn’t know how to
read I would look at the detailed
pictures. I thought those old movies
were silly, that they were stupid, for
immature people. Now I wished I’d
seen them. Maybe one of them had
someone flying that would teach you
how to get down. Now that would’ve
been useful.
“Mom?” my quivering voice
echoed through the suddenly silent
house.
I heard my mom in the
distance. “No, your foot goes in this
hole!” She must have been talking to
my two year-old sister. “Yes?” I
heard her call. Was she talking to
me? “Mae? Did you, um, want
something?” she added.
“Yeah!” I yelled. “You, uhm,
have to come here! Please?” I say,
my voice faltering.
Footsteps. A door opened,
though I couldn’t see it. A scream,
followed by a thud. I was guessing it
was my mom.
“Mom? Is that you? Are you
OK?” I asked as I turned over so that
my stomach was now facing my
messy floor, which my mom was
sitting on.
My mind took a tangent to
“The Land of Thoughts and
Wonders.” How could I get down to
her? Would I ever be able to get
down from here? But then, flying had
always been my dream, so why did I
want to get down? (It did seem cool,
even though I never believed in
magic!) Then the happiness washed
over me, like a storm surge would
wash the beach, and I got a tingling
feeling, spreading from deep in my
chest, all through my body, to the
tips of my toes, and the very top of
my head. I was flying! This didn’t
happen to any ordinary people, did it?
This was no ordinary thing, right? I
was special, just like in my dream!
Though this was still weird. Maybe I
could try to swim to my mom? Would
it work? Questions kept buzzing in
my head like angry bees, and they
kept popping in and being pushed out
by others. I could have kept on
asking questions forever, except I hit
my head on the ceiling and jerked
back to reality.
This time it was my mom
saying, “Mae? Are you OK?”
Apparently while I was daydreaming,
my mom had gotten up to a leaningon-my-bed-and-swaying-side-toside position. I rubbed my head
where I hit, and it seemed I
descended a little.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied.
“Um, mom?”
“Huh? Oh, right… What?” she
looked up at me.
I was hovering so close to the
ceiling now that I had to strain my
neck not to hit my head again. “How
do I, um, get down?”
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“I… I… I don’t know… I’ll get
your dad… yeah… I’ll be back soon…
bye…” she muttered.
She has a plan, I’m sure of it!
Doesn’t she? I thought to myself. “Um.
Mom?” I asked her uncertainly.
finger, but I didn’t. The moment I
stopped swimming I started to rise
again. Mom didn’t seem to notice.
“Um, thanks mom!” I said after a
while when the silence pressing my
ears again was just too much.
“I stared at the closed door in silence for a long time, until my phone slipped from my
hands. ‘NO!!!’ I said automatically and grabbed the phone out of the air.”
“Hmm? Oh. What?” she looked
up again.
“Am I still going to the picnic, or
am I going to eat here, because I’m
kinda hungry.”
I already knew her answer would
be no, but I wanted to break the
silence, which was pressing harder and
harder on my eardrums as every
moment passed. All of a sudden I
descended a bit. This time, I was sure
of it.
“Oh yeah… of course… no… no
picnic… I’ll call… say we’re not
coming… yeah…”
I smiled to myself. My mom was
always muttering to herself, even
though she was the most organized
person in the world. Maybe she was
just saying part of what she was
thinking, or maybe it just all makes
sense in her head.
My mom turned to leave. “Oh,
and, mom?” my voice faltered again.
“Hmm?”
“Can you, um, give me my cell
phone? Please?”
“Sure… yeah…” she took my
phone out of its charger and climbed
slowly onto my bed, and she had that
look that said I am thinking hard right
now. Do not bother me. Later. I swam
down to meet her and took my phone
out of her hand. I almost touched her
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“Oh… right… I’m off to get your
father… bye…” She clambered off the
messy bed onto the messy floor,
stepping on it like a giant would step
on a human-sized maze while trying
not to break any walls in it.
I stared at the closed door in
silence for a long time, until my phone
slipped from my hands. “NO!!!” I said
automatically and grabbed my phone
out of the air. Wait… am I imagining
things? I took a deep breath and
loosened my fingers around my phone,
letting it slip through my fingers like
water. And… it… floated. Did this
mean… did this mean that whatever I
touched would float, too? I swam down
to my gleaming white alarm clock. I
stretched out my finger and touched it
as gently as possible.
It started to
rise. As it rose to my face level, I
noticed the time was 9:41. 9:42. 9:43.
9:44. I stared at my alarm clock in
surprise for quite a while, my
eyebrows disappearing behind my light
brown bangs.
As I rose along with my alarm
clock, with my phone in one hand and
the other hanging loosely by my side, I
turned on my phone. It read, ‘SLIDE
TO UNLOCK.’ I put my finger on the
screen and steered the arrow towards
the end of my phone. ‘PASSWORD’ it
said. 2,5,8,0, I clicked. I went to texts
and into the place where Meg and I
text each other.
Meg was my best friend. Her
real name was Megan, but she hated
it. We called ourselves: ‘THE
M&M’s.’
O-M-G! GUESS WHAT
HAPPENED!!! I texted Meg.
WHAT? TELL ME! I NEED TO
KNOW! Meg texted immediately, as if
she had been waiting for that text all
morning.
I quickly summed up what
happened in about the last hour.
NO. WAY. I got after a while.
YES WAY! I quickly typed.
COME OVER AND SEE FOR
YOURSELF! I quickly added. After
that my phone read OFFLINE. Five
minutes later I heard the doorbell
ring.
“Mom! Can you get that for
me?” I shouted.
“Uhh, sure!” she replied.
I heard the door open, then
close.
A quick “Hello Mrs. Dall!”
from Meg, then shuffling footsteps.
My bedroom door opened, and in
came Meg.
Meg was tall, thin,
pouf. I wasn’t there. She looked up.
I was there. Then a surprised mask
was pulled over her face, complete
with the mouth hanging open. There
was an awkward silence, which
almost never happened with Meg.
Then Meg spoke a single word, but
that single word said a lot itself.
“Whoa.”
“Yeah, I know, right?” I
whispered to break the silence.
Then she said, “Can I touch
you?”
I thought, hard. I thought about
the alarm clock. Where was it now? I
looked around: it had flown to the
brightest corner in the room, the top
right corner. I swam over to it, took
it in my hands.
“Well,” I finally said. “If you
want to float, then sure! The thing is,
I don’t really know how to get down,
so… I mean, I touched this alarm
clock,” I pointed to it, “and, well, it
just did this!” I pointed to myself.
Meg simply stared at me in shock.
I looked into Meg’s big blue
eyes, blue, like the sky on a beautiful
day, her hair the color of the sun.
“I swam down to her, took a deep breath. I stretched out my hand, slowly, towards
Meg’s outstretched one, my finger a millimeter away from hers.”
blonde, and blue-eyed. She was
wearing a blue tank top, knee-length
jeans, and sneakers.
She looked
totally different from me, since I was
still in my pajamas, which were red
and had one Mickey Mouse on the
shirt, and lots of Mickey Mouses on
the pants. (There is only one Mickey
Mouse--there might be several
pictures but they are all still the same
mouse.)
Meg looked at my bed. I
wasn’t there. She looked at my desk.
I wasn’t there.
She looked at my
They were jumping in excitement.
“Yes, I want to float, just touch
me already!”
“Oh. Right. Yeah. OK, all right.
Here goes!” I swam down to her,
took a deep breath. I stretched out
my hand, slowly, towards Meg’s
outstretched one, my finger a
millimeter away from hers. She stood
on her tippy toes, and our fingers
touched. I saw Meg’s feet rise off
the floor. I closed my eyes. I could
feel her excitement and happiness. I
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“My eyes were still teeming with tears, but I opened them anyway. I didn’t care if anyone
saw me cry!”
thought about this.
I made Meg
happy.
Happy. Hmm. I thought I felt
something click in my head, like a
puzzle piece falling into place. And
that puzzle, was the explanation of
how I came to float. I was feeling
very happy yesterday, since mom
said I was getting the newest,
coolest, iPhone 9, in just a week!
And then, when I walked back to my
room, I didn’t even hear my
footsteps!
And I was feeling light
when I went to bed, as if I was filled
with air! I’m guessing this flying/
floating buissness started when mom
told me about the new iPhone 9,
because that was the reason for my
happiness.
So to get down did I need the
opposite of happiness, sadness? Did I
need to make someone sad? Or did I
need to be sad? Did someone need to
make me sad? Or maybe I needed to
think about something sad? Ugh! This
was so frustrating! How was I ever
going to get down from here? I didn’t
think I will ever be able to! I was
gonna DIE up here!
All of a sudden I couldn’t see
anything, couldn’t hear anything, and
couldn’t feel anything, because of my
anger and sadness. My heart was
pounding so fast, and I’d never
wanted anything more in my life than
to get down. Down, to the sweet,
sweet, ground. Tears leaked from
under my closed eyes, even though I
tried to keep them in. My feet were
suddenly cold, so I sat down on a
crumpled piece of paper, and put my
hands on my feet to warm them up.
My eyes were still teeming with
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tears, but I opened them anyway. I
didn’t care if anyone saw me cry!
Then I realized something.
Meg was looking down at me from
waaaay up there in the ceiling. Dad
was looking down at me from halfway
up a ladder, (where did that come
from?) Mom was blinking down at me
from her standing up position, a
confused mask pulled over her face.
They all had one thing in common;
they were all looking down at me. I
was surprised. Weren’t Meg and I
supposed to be the ones looking
down at mom and dad?
I blinked.
Once, twice, three times. I looked
around, gasped. I was on the FLOOR!
And I was sitting! On a piece of
paper, on the floor! Then I gaped
around at my family, (Meg was like a
sister to me!) looking from one to the
other.
“I understand it all now! I got
down because I was so mad, angry,
frustrated, and especially sad. All of
these emotions are the opposite of
happy, which is why I was floating in
the first place. So when I was sad, I
became heavy and sank back to the
floor!” I blurted out. It took a moment
for that to sink in. There was an
awkward silence again.
“Well, I don’t really want to
stay up here forever...so I guess I’ll
try to get down...” Meg said quietly
after a while. She closed her eyes,
and it seemed as if she was thinking
hard, but a minute passed and she
was still up there. After a few more
tries she slowly floated down next to
me. Then came my mom, and then
my dad, who did the same exact
thing.
“So... that was really weird,” I
said, after everyone came down.
“We need to keep this secret. Just
make sure not to tell anyone about
this. We don’t want to end up as
some kind a weird science
experiment.”
We all looked at one another
and agreed.
.
“Half Asleep and Hovering” Zana Allajbegu
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Barbershop
by Justin Hwang
I walk into the barbershop, the bell jingling away as I open the mahogany door,
the barber waiting for me,
with a scissor hungrily waiting to eat my hair.
The chair of doom waits to
headlock me in its arm as the
scissor eats away, and
the hairspray spits at my bowl cut,
as I think “Say it, don’t spray it.”
As I watch my strands of hair fall,
they are yelling “Why! Why must you do this?”
I watch them helplessly as the
broom herds them into the hair pan
as a shepherd might do.
I look over to the mannequin as it whispers
“Don’t end up like me!”
I smell the gel on my remaining locks,
and they are yelling “Noooo!”
But their voices are drowned out quickly.
My most prized possession writhes in agony,
and I think how evil this place could get.
“Scissors” Emily Luo
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Prison of Illness
by Katie Vandermel
The doctor’s office
Is a foul place,
Which causes utmost stress
And discomfort,
To me.
The medicine bottles cackle
With a warning:
“Beware!”
The chairs whine when I sit on them,
The peculiar scented pillows huff and puff when laid on.
Tissue boxes grab
Whatever substance from your ill nose,
And garbage cans feast
On the band-aids and plastic wrappers from their main
supplier:
Patients.
The white coats cringe
At all the sicknesses inflicted upon them,
From those who enter
This dungeon of misery.
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A Nonexistent Sequel to the Real “Little Red Riding Hood’”
by Katherine Miller
“Honestly Sidney, I still just cannot believe that you allowed Red out there all on
her own to go visit your mother,” Brittany said. Brittany was the main source of gossip in
the village, and she was Sidney’s best friend.
“Don’t worry Brittany,” Sidney said to her friend. “Red will be fine. I wouldn’t
send her out on her own like that if I didn’t believe it myself.”
Sidney turned from the kitchen counter to look at Brittany, who was seated at the table
with a cup of tea. “Oh, calm down Brittany. It’s me who should be worried. Little Red is
my daughter after all.”
“Little Red Riding Hood,” Brittany muttered into her tea. “The name suits her.”
Sidney smiled and turned back to the cookies she was baking.
It wasn’t long until there was a knock on the old, creaky door.
“Can you get that for me?” Sidney asked Brittany. Brittany nodded and got up to
open the door. Sidney listened to Brittany’s conversation from the kitchen.
“Hello Brittany. Can I speak to Sidney?” a man asked. It was Jacob. He was a
lumberjack.
“What is he doing here?” Sidney thought.
“Yes, come in,” Brittany said. “She’s in the kitchen. Why? Has something
happened?”
“I just need to speak with Sidney,” Jacob persisted. Brittany nodded. ,Jacob
walked into the kitchen, and Sidney turned to look at him. He looked sad and very, very
nervous. He was shuffling his feet and twiddling his thumbs. In that moment Sidney
knew something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Jacob, what’s wrong?” Sidney asked calmly. Jacob took a deep breath and opened
his mouth to speak, but only a choked sob came out. He put a hand over his mouth and
blinked his eyes hard. Brittany put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“Jacob, it’s okay, just--” Brittany started to say.
“No! No it’s not okay!” Jacob yelled, cutting Brittany off. He shoved her hand off
his shoulder and turned to face Sidney right in the eyes. “It’s about Red.”
With those words Sidney felt as though she was going to collapse. She slowly
turned her back on Jacob and held onto the counter for support.
“What happened to Red?” Sidney asked urgently.
“Red, well, she was, well…” Jacob sighed. “Red is dead.” His voice squeaked at
the last word. He started to cry softly.
Sidney was in shock. Red was dead. Her daughter. Her daughter was dead.
Sidney heard Brittany gasp. Sidney’s bottom lip started to quiver. All the strength she
had in her legs was lost, and she collapsed to the kitchen floor. She didn’t cry.
She was in so much shock that her tears didn’t know how to fall.
She took a shaky breath.
“No,” she whispered. She stood up and turned around to face Jacob. “No,” she
said with more confidence. Jacob opened his tightly shut eyes and looked up at Sidney.
“Red is not dead. She can’t be! She’s been to my mother’s house so many times. What
was so different about this one?”
Jacob looked at Sidney with so much sadness in his eyes. “Some lumberjacks said
they saw Red talking to a wolf. But the wolf and Red went separate ways, so we didn’t
think much of it. When Red didn’t come back down the pathway for a few hours, we had
figured that we’d ought to go check out her Grandmother’s house. When we got there the
place smelled funny. We went in, and well…” Jacob trailed off.
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“Little Red Riding Hood” Jacqueline Kim
“I am going to find her,” Sidney said. She went over to Jacob and looked at him right in
the eyes. “I am going to find her, and you will be sorry that you ever played this trick on me.”
Jacob looked terrified. Brittany looked at her friend with sadness in her eyes. Even Sidney
knew that she wasn’t behaving like herself. But that wasn’t enough to stop her from barging out
the door to go looking for Red.
Some time later, Sidney was almost at her mother’s house. Admittedly, she was still
nervous. After all, there was still a slim possibility that Jacob was telling the truth, but she tried
not to think like that. After a short while, Sidney reached the door to her mother’s house. She
took a deep breath and knocked on the door. No one answered. Sidney tried again but got the
same response. Complete and utter silence.
Sidney opened the door and stepped inside the house. It felt cold and empty, and there
was also a strange smell in the air. Sidney walked though the house slowly, almost as if
something was going to come out and attack her. Sidney slowly made her way to her mother’s
room. She opened the door hesitantly and poked her head in. She saw a dark puddle on the
floor. Her eyes cast over to one section of the floor. Sitting on the ground was a small bundle
of red cloth. Sidney carefully walked over to it. She picked up the red article carefully. After
she rolled out the cloth, she immediately knew what she was holding.
She was holding a little red riding hood.
19
Ghosts
“Ghosts,” Diva Kothari
by Chaeyoon Ok
I slowly watch the coals in our fireplace die,
Slowly being killed by the wind,
Which is blowing, ever so softly,
In and out the windowframes of our living room.
I lay in bed at night, clutching my blanket,
Pretending that I can’t hear the wails and screams,
Fighting the urge to look back,
feeling I would be swallowed whole if I did
By the ghosts
The ghosts that haunt my house
That think I can’t sense them, but I can
That think I can’t hear them, but I can
That think I can’t see them, but I can.
When I practice the piano,
My fingers touch the keys gently,
But then I see the ghost of my grandmother,
Leaning out and playing her favorite song
Then as I watch the sunset,
I spot the ghost of my grandfather,
Sitting cross-legged in front of me,
Smiling, and holding an invisible paintbrush,
Indicating that he wants to paint with all the colors of the sunset.
I can see them, hear them, sense them, the ghosts of my former family.
20
SCRIPTA
Ten
by Anastasia Tavares
My age has betrayed me, yet again
Stayed the same for a year
I feel as if I am really seeing a wolf in hare's clothing
behind that cloak an even bigger monster than I have ever
Tried to conquer before
The jaws, picking me by the neck as it snapped me up
Each time the jaws bigger
The claws sharper-At one, I thought for sure it was just those three letters.
Knowing that, every day I would live life,
Stumbling and fumbling and rumbly tumbling
At two, I could speak.
Babbling words I could not comprehend.
At five, I was a pretty princess with long, blonde hair
Flowing to my knees
At seven I was a mermaid, swimming through the oceans
Shells for a swimsuit
As I swam into the sunset,
The waves swinging me around.
At nine, I was an astronaut, soaring through space
with Aldrin and Armstrong by my side
I used to say goodbye to Earth,
Now I'm saying goodbye to my whole life so far
Now I stare at the moon and the stars, awaiting their
Light as it shines through my bedroom window
It's dark now,
And mum, mother does not tell me the stories of the rabbit and turtle
And papa, father does not wish me goodnight with such an embrace
Or stay by my side to watch me soar to different lands
I do not play with my puppy dog, and she does not wag her tail
In happiness as before.
It is the beginning of the end
I know it is too late to turn back
To the "wee's" of summer
And the "brr's" of winter
I am a snake, shedding a new skin
My lifeless nines
My terrible twos
Back to when I was six and learned to tie a shoe
I pack away my toys and replace them with books
To study, to learn, to complete
I now have tests of a more difficult standard
And at recess detach from fun
To go back and review for that quiz
Aldrin and Armstrong zoom away with a woosh
While the rabbit and the turtle resume
I presume
to their race
It is time to face the numbers, those double digits
Now I must move on, toughen up
I am a soldier
no time for games.
21
The Other Side
by Chaeyoon Ok
She was always so cold, so refined
She never even glanced this way or caught my eye
But now she’s so sweet, and a bit unsure
I wonder why I never noticed this side of her before
I always hid, alone in the shadows
And she was always surrounded by her friends
I was always alone,
She never was friendless.
But she lent a hand, and now
I wonder why I never noticed this side of her before.
Now I can’t tell who that girl is,
The girl staring back at me
But I accept her friendship
Because, honestly, it’s all I’ve got
And she’s the only one
Who’s kind enough
To lend a helping hand.
I wonder
Why I’ve never
Noticed this side of her
Before. 22
SCRIPTA
“I Can Wait But I Think the Flowers Will Wilt” Katherine Miller
Together
by Shira Pardo
She had been my best friend. I remember last summer we
went to the beach together. Then, when we rode home, she
leaned on me and fell asleep. Her head had been warm. She
slept all the way until we reached her house. I can't believe
she's gone.
23
“Freedom To Dream” by Katherine Miller
Step by Step
by Eden Glick
By the time I got to the locker room my friend was already there. Tracey, my best
friend, had her back turned to me, applying hairspray and clips to make sure her bun would
stay intact. Fortunately, my locker was next to hers. “Hey,” she said while contemplating
where to put another clip.
“Hi,” I said back.
Not paying any mind to Tracey, who expected me to begin a conversation, I opened
my locker and put my gym bag in and pulled out my own hairspray, brush, clips, bobby
pins, hair ties, and a comb for my hair. My coach insisted on neat hair if you haven’t
realized that yet. I started brushing my hair into a pony tail and then twisted it into a bun.
Then I applied hairspray, clips, and bobby pins. I got on my leotard and shorts, shut my
locker's thin metal door, and sat quietly.
Everything was silent until Tracey slammed her locker shut and sat down next to
me with her phone. She was obsessed with her phone. I could never ever finish talking to
her about something without her pulling out her pink phone with the studded case, or not
texting on it and interrupting me about how one of her friends can’t go to the mall with her
or something dumb like that. That was the one thing that drove me insane about Tracey. I
sat next to her, fidgeting with my fingers like a five year old who can’t sit in a restaurant
any longer. The room felt quieter now. The only noise was the soft clicking of Tracey’s
keyboard on her phone and the gurgling of a sink drain. The silence got weirder as the
moment went on.
“So,” said Tracey.
“Thank goodness,” I thought. ”It was getting too quiet.” I sighed, not knowing
what to say.
“Are you still depressed about not making it to nationals?” Tracey asked.
“So close and blew it,” I mumbled.
“It’s been two days already,” she said.
“And your point is?” I ask.
24
SCRIPTA
“You can’t change the past,” she said..
“I wish I could,” I said.
“Well you can’t so you have to forget about it.”
“Tracey,” I said. “You have gotten to and have won nationals so you shouldn’t
be talking because YOU-DON’T–KNOW-WHAT- IT’S-LIKE-TO-LOSE!”
“Well….. Just train hard. You’ll make it.” When she said this it was more like
a question. I really don’t know how she got that theory though, because she knew,
and so did I, that I was not capable at all to make the national team. Not now at least.
Maybe never.
A minute later Lin walked in, my other close friend. She was always ready for
the gym when she came. Ready to take in any criticism or corrections that Tricia,
our coach, would throw at her. She was also prepared in a sense of already wearing
a leotard and shorts.
“Hey guys,” she said. She slid her flip-flops off and stuck her bag into her
locker which was next to mine. She walked to the door and looked at the two of us
sitting on the bench blankly. “You guys better come warm up or you’ll be late,” she
said. We still sat in silence. “Ok, please excuse my nosiness, but what is going on?
You guys haven’t said a thing since I’ve walked in. Is this about me? Because then I
truly am sorry for what I did.”
“No,” I said.
“What do you mean no?”
“It’s not about you.
We were talking about nationals.
Don’t worry.” I
answered.
“Oh. Ok. Well I’m going. We have a minute to get out there.”
“Okay, okay,” said Tracey. “Come on Lacey,”
We followed Lin out the door. Sitting on the floor sat our fourth and youngest
level nine, Melanie, who was doing splits. When she saw us she smiled her big
braces smile and waved.
“Hi Melon,” said Tracey as we sat down on the fuzzy blue and white floor.
Melon was her nickname.
“Hi,” she said. The four of us sat in silence as we stretched. I was so sore. I
don’t know why, because it was Monday, not a Wednesday, the middle of the week
when I usually get sore. It got quiet again. “Awkward silence,” said Melanie and we
all began to laugh.
The laughing ended quickly, though,
because our coach, Tricia, yelled, “Girls, get
your grips on. We are starting on bars.”
Tricia was a large woman with really
long, blond hair that she always wore in a
high pony tail on the top of her head. 99% of
the time her face was overdone and caked
with hot pink or dark blue eye shadow and
scalding hot red lip stick. Peculiar huh? She
also always wore workout clothes and was
constantly working out to stay in shape.
“Why do you go to the gym at five in the morning?” we once asked her. “I have to
stay in shape you know,” she said.
“As you get older you get weaker and
overweight. I’m getting older, “ she said even though she was twenty-five. “I need
to work out so I can keep my slim frame,” she posed. “It’s important. When you’re
my age you’ll do the same thing.”
"Uh, you're not old,” we said.
“Oh please," she laughed a forced laugh. "I'm about as old as a moldy piece of
white bread. Like I said, you’ll do the same thing. You’ll see.”
When we got on bars we started with handstands. After that Tricia told us
that we had to work on our release moves because we needed more work on keeping
our legs straight and our toes pointed. Mine was the Tkachev. Ugh. I hated this
skill. I did it safely but I did it in fear. I leaned toward the high bar and did a kip.
“Why am I here? You know you don’t want to be here because you think
you’re a fail.” I thought. I casted and went into a giant. No going back now. I was
not focused between everything going through my head, so when I let go of the bar
for the release I went sideways. Then when I needed to re-catch the bar I was too
far, so only my tips of my fingers caught the bar. I’m not strong enough to hold my
whole body on by my fingers, really who would be, so when I swung around the bar
“The only noise was the soft clicking of
Tracey’s keyboard on her phone and the
gurgling of a sink drain. The silence got
weirder as the moment went on.”
25
from momentum I peeled off the bar and
went flying like a sack of potatoes. I
nearly landed on my head! After I made
sure I was okay I stood up and walked
towards the chalk bucket as if nothing
ever happened, but someone called my
name. Tricia.
“Stay calm,” I thought. I turned
around to find my coach standing right in
front of me.
“What was that?” she asked as if she were talking about slugs.
“I messed up,” I said.
“You know my thoughts about messing up Lacey. I don’t tolerate it. At all.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled. She sighed.
“Girls come here,” she called. We gathered around the monster of a coach hoping
she wouldn’t spit flames at us because she was angry now. But she didn’t. “I have
important news to announce,” she exclaimed. “I’m taking three of you to a special clinic
where you are coached by Olympians and high level coaches for one month. You should
improve dramatically if you work hard.” She glanced at me. This was my chance.
I ran home to announce the news.
"Mom," I called as I hurried into the house.
"Uh-huh?" my mom asked with her glasses to the tip of her nose while she sat at
the wooden table reading the newspaper.
"Tricia told us today that there is a clinic that she is bringing three of us to. She
said the people who work the hardest will go. This is my chance to make it to nationals."
"Wow!" my mom exclaimed. "That's wonderful."
"I know. Hopefully I'll make it."
But day after day nothing improved. I was over myself by now, and I didn’t know
why I couldn’t do anything. After three weeks Tricia called us to her office to determine
which of the four of us was going. Tricia's office, also known as the "scare-you-todeath-room" was close to freezing.
Her walls were painted dark blue, and the name
Tumble Gymnastics was painted in black letters.
“Take a seat," she said. "I'll announce who's going quick, so you guys can get
home. The people who are going are, Tracey, Melanie and Tracey."
I ran home in excitement to tell my mom the news. My drawstring bag bounced
on my back, and my water bottles sloshed around. I didn’t know how I was so happy
given the fact that I had a horrible practice. I turned a corner, and my house came into
view. I ran up the washed-out grey stone steps and into the house.
“Mom!” I called.
“Hi,” my mom said. She stood at the stove cooking a pot of pasta.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Cooking pasta. I thought it would be a nice snack for you after the gym for
lunch.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Oh, mom listen to this, so today I-"
“Oh, Lacey, sorry this is really quick, but your father is getting a new job. He is
working with computers still but at a different company. Isn’t that great?”
“Yeah, really great. Ok. As I was saying I was at the gym-"
"Oh, and your brother did really well at his baseball game today."
"Cool-"
"And your sister did really well at her soccer game today. Ok, keep going I’m
done.”
“You sure?” I asked.
“Yup.”
“Ok today-"
"Oh, and I got fresh parmesan cheese, your favorite and I made fresh tomato
sauce.”
“GREAT. CAN I TELL YOU MY GREAT NEWS?” I asked.
“Yes, sorry,” she said.
“Ok, today at the gym Tricia pulled the four of us aside and told us who's going to
the clinic. Which is Tracey, Melanie, and me!"
“I was not focused between everything going through my
head, so when I let go of the bar for the release I went
sideways. Then when I needed to re-catch the bar I was
too far...”
26
SCRIPTA
“Oh that’s wonderful,” said my mom.
“Where exactly is it?”
She
questioned. “Massachusetts,” I said.
“Uh-huh, and how long are you go away again?”
“A month.”
“I don’t come with you?”
“No. Why?”
“That’s a long time to be away but I suppose you’ll be fine," she said. "I'm so
happy for you."
The next morning was cloudy and rainy but no time to sleep in. I got up at
6:45, ate my breakfast, and then packed my things. By 7:30 I called Melanie and
Tracey to see if they wanted to meet me at my house so we could walk together.
They said sure and appeared at my steps in a minute because they lived right down
the block. Gooooood morning,” said Tracey when she walked towards me.
“Hello,” I said back.
“I’m tired,” said Melanie as we walked along.
“We all are,” I said.
The summer air felt humid from the rain. Gutters dripped and puddles
bubbled on the sidewalks. Because we left ten minutes earlier and we walked fast
in case it started to rain again we arrived really early. We shoved our bags in our
lockers and changed in the bathroom then pulled our hair back and sat down on the
bench.
“Girls, is there anyone here?” Tricia walked in, in purple Nike shorts. On
her feet she wore pink and purple Under Armor sneakers. “I thought I heard
someone come in. And splendid that it’s the three of you. I have things to do for
the clinic. I was going to have a quick meeting after practice, but I thought you
would like to leave and shower or do whatever so it’s good you guys are here. And
good job getting here early. Ok, now I need your leotard sizes. I have every size
for the leotard.
“I’m probably an adult small,” I said.
“Me too,” said Tracey.
“Yeah me too,” said Melanie.
“Great. I’ll go get your leotards,” and then Tricia ran off.
When Tricia returned she held three gold and purple leotards. “Here you
are,” she said handing each of us a leotard. “Ok now go stretch. You might as well,
because you’re early and you'll get more practice in to look good at the clinic.” So
without questioning we went on and stretched. When I went to open the door I
nearly got wacked in the face because Lin came rushing in.
“Hey everybody,” she said.
“Hi.”
“Am I late?”
“No.”
“Ok, good, because
Tricia told me you
guys were going to
stretch.”
“Well we were going
to stretch but you
flung the door open
so, yeah.”
“Oh ok, I’ll meet you
guys on the floor.”
“Ok.”
On the floor we did splits and kicks. After two minutes Lin joined us. We
began to do bridges and then we finished. “Ok, perfect, done stretching?” Tricia
asked.
“Yeah,” we said.
“We are starting on tumbling today. Ok girls?”
My tumbling was actually “good” today. Even Tricia thought it was good.
She smiled at me a couple times. Yes!
It was finally Friday. The final day before the clinic. There was no
practice though, because Tricia wanted to represent our team well and didn’t want
us to be sore and look bad.
“Tricia’s office, also known as the ‘scare-you-to-death’-room’ was
close to freezing. The walls were painted dark blue, and the name
Tumble Gymnastics was painted in black letter.”
27
“Ok, here’s what you need for the clinic,” said my mom. “Your leotard, shorts, day
clothes, toiletries, pajamas, socks, and underwear. Let's begin.”
We pulled out my year-old light blue suitcase and then dug through my drawers and
freshly washed laundry piles for everything I needed. Then I packed my gym bag. By noon
we had finished packing and had put my bags by the edge of the stairs. During lunch, while I
ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I got a phone call from Melanie.
“Hey Melon.”
“Hey, are you packing?”
“Yeah, why?”
“No reason. I’m just so excited.”
“Me too.”
“Melanie!” I heard a faint voice on the other end of the phone.
“That’s my mom. I better go. Apparently we have to make a hard decision on
whether to bring my sneakers from Under Armor or Nike. I say Nike because they stabilize
my feet better, but my mom says they are too expensive. Whatever. We'll see ya tomorrow.
Bye.”
“Bye.”
The next morning was exciting. We all met up at the gym with our bags. Tricia and
the three of us piled into her car because she told the parents that she would drive us, so
they didn’t have to drive a long time. The moms were fine with that. Besides, they were
close friends. They could gather at my mom’s house for dinner and for “Mom conversation"
as my mom used to tell me when I was younger.
“Bye!” Our moms waved through the open windows. “See you in a month!"
We were so excited! We couldn't stop talking. We had no clue what it would be like
but we were still so excited to go. We kept driving and driving. We passed farms with cows
and houses until we finally reached our destination.
After a few hours we arrived at The Gorled’s Inn and Hotel. Tracey parked the car at
the front of the hotel and opened up the trunk. Then using her “old lady” muscles she lifted
our bags from the black fabric trunk. We walked into the brown lobby and then checked in
for our room numbers and keys. A middle-aged woman with red hair, red glasses, and in a
red suit helped us. Her tag read Carla. “What may I do for you four lovely young ladies?”
she asked.
"We are checking in,” said Tricia.
“Cool, your names?”
“Both the rooms are under my name, so Tricia.”
“Ok Tricia. Here’s your room key and your room is 343. And the girls' room number
is 344 and here's your key,” she said handing it to me. We took the fancy elevator up to the
third floor.
“I’ll check on you guys once I’m situated. Ok?”
“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” I answered. We all walked into the room. The bed was neatly
made and the window curtains were pulled back to show a wonderful view of a parking lot.
Yay. We all expected an awesome view of mountains in the distance and a field in between.
I guess we weren’t getting that. We each took our beds. I got the one closest to the window.
Tracey was on the bed next to me, and Melanie got the springy couch that converted into a
bed. We began to start unloading our suitcases into the draws.
"This is going to be fun,” said Tracey through the loud rumbling air conditioner.
“Definitely,” I said back. Soon Tricia knocked on the door. “Hello?” I called.
“It’s me, Tricia. Just checking to make sure you guys are alright.”
“We are,” I said. I opened the door so I didn’t have to yell.
“I like your room" she said as she saw the two other girls unpacking. I had
finished. “Well when you’re done lets go get some dinner,” she said.
The next morning took forever to come, but when it did, we climbed out of bed ten
minutes before the alarm clock went off. We got dressed into our leotards and then brushed
our teeth. Then we gathered our bags because we were leaving straight from breakfast.
Tricia sat at a round table in the dining room with plates of food. “I ordered lots of food
early so you guys could eat right away,” she said proudly.
“Thank you,” we said. Breakfast was good and we ate fast. We then left.
The gym was big. I’ll tell you that. Not only was it big though, it had really good
gymnasts. “Ok go stretch, but remember. Work hard, and have fun,” said Tricia. “You
deserved it girls.” We stretched then headed to bars where we worked with an Olympian.
28
SCRIPTA
He gave me good tips especially for my Tkachev. Next came floor. On floor I
practiced my tumbling. I couldn’t land my tumbling passes though. Luckily my
Olympic coach told me some corrections, and I stood them up. Then I had vault.
On vault I also needed some serious corrections like straight legs, and pointed
toes, and of course sticking my landing. Then came beam. On beam I did pretty
well. I didn't fall a lot, and I wasn't too scared. Last was conditioning. On
conditioning we got worked really hard. Thirty minutes of constant conditioning.
It was really tough. Each event with an Olympian and Tricia. I worked hard, and I
already felt like I was improving. A month later it was over.
The next morning we packed up and headed out. We checked out at the
front desk where Carla sat.
"Checking out?" Carla asked.
"Yes,” said Tricia. The car ride felt long, but we just chatted non-stop
about what we learned. Tricia seemed pretty proud and happy about that. When
we arrived in the gym parking lot our moms were lined up and hugged us when we
came out.
"Hello!" our moms exclaimed. "It's so nice to see you! We missed you.
How was it?" they asked.
"Awesome," we answered.
December 19, 2014. I stood waiting for them to call my name for first place
at regionals. Then they did. With a 38.5 all-around score. I knew I had made it to
nationals, because I was in the last session that day, and I knew from the meet's
website all the winners from each section, and mine was the second highest all
around. “Thank you,” I said to Tricia.
“For what?” she asked.
“For believing in me,” I said.
“No,” Tricia said. "Thank you."
“For what?” I asked.
“For being determined,” Tricia said. “You deserved this.”
“Abstract” Isabelle Lee
29
Gone
by Zana Allajbegu
I heard the sirens. I saw the red and blue lights
flashing as I shakily said his name out into the pouring
rain. My mother cupped my chin in her cold hand and
said it was time to go to bed, that everything would be
okay in the morning, that the police would find him. I
could see her eyes dilate with fear.
"That won't work on me, Mom. I'm not two years
old anymore!" I screamed in her face. "He's not coming
back!" I ran outside. I was soaking, but I didn't care. I
had to know where he went.
Tears streamed down my face. I ran down the
street, dodging policemen and screaming his name over
and over again. I made for the forest, shielding my
eyes from the random lights that blinded me. My vision
blurred from the rain. I pulled my hood up over my
head. I felt a stabbing pain in my toe and tripped over
a twig, falling under a tall, pine tree. I ignored the
blood slowly seeping out of a cut on my knee.
I lay there, not bothering to get up. He was--no.
I didn't want to think of the word.
He was simply gone.
30
SCRIPTA
“Abstract” Isabelle Lee
31
Tired Pencil
by John Paul Alker
Day after day
Writing essays,
Stories, paragraphs
Eight whole hours of
Non-stop work
Getting scratched along
Paper, books, and
Post-its
Getting thrown around,
Twirling in a hand
Eraser worn out
From all this lead
Then the end of the
Day comes
Getting left in a locker
32
SCRIPTA
Clicking Trouble
by Giulia Muller
that clicking pen
like a hen
makes a lot of noises
like loud kids’ voices
its small grip
as small as a clip
helps you hold tight
to help you cite
sorry to burst your bubble
but you might get in trouble
because of that loud clicking pen
“Spilled Pencils” Maya Yacouel
33
The Faithful Falcon
by Tula Nicholson
With a broken leg, sprained ankle,
and possibly a broken arm, Mach was
stuck on a slope on a dry, deserted hill in
Arizona.
Her puppy labrador Bush
whined, wanting her to get up and keep
training for cross country, which is what
she was doing when she took a wrong
turn and found herself in the middle of
nowhere, but Mach somehow knew she
was hurt. He curled up into a ball on her
back and started to fall asleep. He
reminded Mach of a yoke from an egg,
and she moaned. She hadn’t eaten in a
while. Mach tried and tried to get up, or
to drag herself away to a more open area,
but she just couldn’t. The best thing she
could do was drag herself about a foot
with her one good arm until she had to
rest again.
What’s more, she found
herself re-licking her lips until she
realized that her tongue was as dry as
sandpaper. She was slowly dehydrating.
Bush was in a deep sleep, which was
comforting because Mach calmed herself
by watching his lungs rise and fall.
Finally, as the sun started to peek
over the horizon, Bush woke up and, not
even looking at Mach, trotted away and
out of sight. Normally Mach would be
scared that a car would run over Bush,
but she wasn’t scared about that here in
the middle of nowhere. In fact, Mach was
more afraid of losing her only companion.
It kind of made her laugh at the sight of
him happily bouncing away--like
something you would see in a cartoon.
Mach wasn’t sure which was more crazy,
the fact that she found it funny, or the
idea of what would happen if someone
found her smiling in this situation.
Suddenly Mach spotted something in the
sky. It was a bird, it was a plane--no it
was a bird. It soared in the sky in swift
curves until Mach realized it was forming
a kind of oval. And all at once, Mach
knew what it was and what it wanted.
Terror coursed through her body, starting
at her heart and slowly spreading out
through her until she was almost sure she
was vibrating with fear. A hawk. It was a
hawk. And it wanted Bush.
34
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Mach was on high alert and fought
back the tears. She couldn’t let her guard
down in case the hawk decided to fly at
her, but she just couldn’t lose Bush.
Bump! Mach felt a furry blob of softness
clumsily fall onto her back.
Bush had
returned! This time relief was the feeling
that overcame Mach, and this time, she
didn’t fight it off. But what was that in
Bush’s mouth? Was that a...water bottle?
“You furry little genius!” Mach
whispered to Bush, smiling. Bush was
chewing on it and holding it down with his
paws, focusing on the crunchy noise it
made and oblivious to how he just saved
Mach’s life. Mach courteously took the
bottle out of Bush’s mouth, not wanting to
annoy him after such a great victory. She
took a little sip, although she could really
gulp the whole bottle down in seconds.
Reaching deep into her pocket with her
good hand, she pulled out her dead phone
and took off the case, which was like a
little rubber bowl.
It had no openings
except for the one for earphones, but
even that had a little plug in it. She
poured some water in it and gave it to
Bush, who mostly just licked the wet
edges of the case before actually drinking
the water inside. Mach was happy with
Bush and couldn’t believe what he had
found. But how did he get it?
Maybe someone dropped it? Or
could someone have given it to him?
Maybe it was a hiker? But then wouldn’t
they keep him, or follow him? Mach
racked her brain. Bush was a lovable,
sweet, soft, gentle, and smart dog that
anyone would have kept if seen
wandering alone with no collar, so she
ruled out that anyone saw him. Finally,
Mach came to the conclusion that Bush
was lucky and happened to stumble upon
the bottle.
With Bush by her side, Mach did
some thinking. She started to remember
girl scouts.
“But what if you don’t have a
compass?” Mach curiously asked. Mrs.
Sunshine, although that was probably not
her real name, smiled.
“Good, always ask. Well if you
don’t have a compass like this one, you
can look at the sun. It always sets in the
west, but the closer you get to the
winter solstice, on December 21, it will
start setting in the South-West.” Mach
smiled, for at home she had to look those
things up. Mrs. Sunshine moved on.
The vision slowly disappeared
until Mach was once again on that same
deserted slope. Knowing her direction
wasn’t going to help her now because
she had no idea of which direction she
came from, and if she did she wouldn’t
be able to get there. Frustrated, Mach
sighed. There was always something to
work with in girl scouts. They always
gave you the right types of rock that
formed the fire, or a compass, or a map.
It didn’t take Mach very long to realize
that she had something to work with too.
Her position.
Mach was almost at the top of the
slope, but she was just behind the dip so
no one could see her. An unfortunate
position, although maybe she could
change that. Maybe she could roll down
the slope until she had more to work
with, so Mach zipped up her sweatshirt
all the way up, and with her water bottle
in hand and her phone in her pocket, she
rolled. Her arm burned each time her
body passed over it, but she knew she
couldn’t stop yet. At the bottom of the
slope Mach inhaled deep to stifle the
pain. She was sure that if her arm wasn’t
broken before, it was now. She landed
on a flat piece of ground and thought she
heard her heart hammering, but what
was really booming, was coming from
Mach’s left.
Three days passed.
Mach
couldn’t crawl, or walk, and she
definitely felt like giving up. It was her
third day there on that slope. So you can
imagine her excitement when she heard
footsteps. Until she realized it was
coming from Bush. All hope lost, Mach
sagged and awaited her death. What did I
do to deserve this? she pondered. Finally
she screamed, “HELP!” Then, “I’M
BEHIND THE DIP!” Mach moaned and
then quickly stopped. She could hear a
faint engine. “HELP!” she screamed, as
the engine got fainter. Mach panicked.
She knew if she couldn’t get the
attention of the driver, she would die.
“Bush!” she tried to keep calm as Bush
walked towards her.
“Bush, the car,
fetch!” Mach yelled trying to sound
happy and ecstatic and pointed at the
direction the sound was coming from.
She knew it was
helpless, that Bush
w o u l d n ’ t
understand, but to
her surprise Bush
sprinted towards
the noise, barking.
Mach felt useless
and helpless, being
that Bush was
keeping her alive
with the water
bottle and chasing
after the car. She
felt like she
couldn’t do anything
to help herself
survive, and that
was a feeling she
didn’t like, being
vulnerable. She at
least wanted to
know what day it
was, if that was any
help.
Taking her
finger, she made a
line in the dirt for
each of the days
she had been there.
“Synergistic Bond” Lauren Lee
35
So far, three tally marks lay in the sand.
Taking a glance at the sun, which was
slowly sliding back down, she determined
that she was south.
“I’m south!” she
screamed. Mach told herself she couldn’t
die, that it would be all right. As her eyes
drifted to the sky, she once again spotted
the hawk.
But this time, instead of fear, a
soothing feeling spread across her body
until she was so stunned and relaxed she
actually thought she was dead. The sharp
“Knowing her direction wasn’t going to help
her now because she had no idea of which direction
she came from, and if she did she wouldn’t be able to
get there.”
beak curved just a little, and the once
piercing black eyes now seemed to be full
of thoughtfulness. Focusing on its
unusually tiny feet, Mach didn’t even
notice it was descending.
It quickly
glided like a balloon when you let the air
out, up and down in different directions
but much smoother, somehow being blown
off course by the thick wind that stirred
up. High in the sky, Mach could see its
body was pitch black, and the wingtips
had a very, very light brown shade like
highlights. The bird finally landed just
twenty feet away.
And all at once, the elegant,
graceful element faded, and all Mach
could focus on was its sharp beak, so
sharp it would be able to easily tear her
flesh.
Mach felt so stupid for almost
trusting this bird of prey, for she barely
ever trusted anyone, and now she
suddenly decided to trust a deadly hawk?
Mach didn’t have time to scold
herself because her attention was stolen
by the faint ch-ch-ch of an engine. It got
louder and louder until it came into view,
scaring the hawk away. An electric blue
golf cart-looking car with huge wheels
bumpily rambled over and stopped short
in front of Mach. Hope spread through
Mach like a hose filling her veins with
faith. Is this my rescue? The hope and the
feeling of safeness completely went blank
as she realized it was two worn-down
teenagers jumping out of the high car like
neanderthals.
“Now tell me this, how you get
yourself stuck in a place like this?”
smirked the first teenager, looking down
36
SCRIPTA
at her. He was a tall, skinny boy with
patched-up clothes, thin sprouts of brown
hair and crooked teeth. Mach could see a
couple of thick, silver teeth, but all the
others seemed to be rotting. He smiled an
icy, cold smile that seemed to make even
the crickets go silent.
“I would tell you if your disgusting
breath didn’t fog up my sight,” Mach
sputtered. The boy closed his mouth as if
considering this thought but quickly
opened it again revealing an earnest
smile.
“We got a sassy one!” he whistled.
The second teenager, a girl with
mismatched shoes, straight but yellow
teeth,and a bland hairdo of a low back
ponytail slapped the boy’s arm.
“Don’t listen to this doof. We be
hearin screams so we headed toward the
sound but, but you stopped. Fred shot dat
gun,” she pointed to the shotgun in the
back of the car, “and we thought you’d
start again. But then that dog of yours
started barkin like crazy, sounded just
like you!” The girl broke out in laughter,
and Fred joined in.
“Well, thanks for finding me.
Could you please let me use your phone?”
Mach asked.
Fred rolled his eyes in
frustration and smirked.
“You think we got phones!” he
screamed, laughing his head off. Mach
started panicking about why they were
doing what they were doing. Suddenly,
the hawk came into her mind, and she
thought about how up close it was scary
but seeing its abilities it calmed her down.
Maybe she should trust these people, not
too much, but just enough. And hadn’t she
really been trusting people all along?
Trusting her family, Bush, the people on
the street she walked by everyday, the
people staying at the same hotel from
where she’d set off days earlier when
heading out for a long run? Hadn’t she
been trusting them to either help her or
not do something bad to her? All at once
everything clicked like a piece in a puzzle,
and Mach knew what she had to do.
“I need a ride, and if you guys
won’t help me I suggest you move along,”
Mach boldly challenged. The girl bit her
lip.
“Where are you not broken?” the
girl asked.
Mach waved up her left arm. The
girl raised her eyebrows, surprised at
how injured Mach was. She took Mach’s
legs, and Fred took her back and together
they carried her into the back of the
car. The car started and slowly
began to bump along and faltered
every now and then before starting
up again. These little detours gave
Mach tiny heart attacks because she
feared they would all be stuck
there. Bush kept shifting on her lap
not used to staying in one place for
so long. Mach could feel her eyelids
heavy with fatigue, like someone
filled them with wet cement. She
forced herself to stay alert.
“My name is Hillary. This is
my brother Fred,” the girl said.
Fred shook his head from behind
the wheel.
“Why you gotta tell people
that?” he said. “Who cares what
our names are?”
“Shut up,” Hillary sputtered.
Mach’s heart pounded a hundred
times faster than it did five minutes
ago.
She couldn’t hold up much
longer with all the tension.
“Do you know where we
are?” Mach carefully questioned.
“Yah, duh!” Hillary snapped.
“We’re about twenty miles down
from the river. That’s where we
stop and go our separate ways.
You’re probably wondering which
way to go and such. I reckon you
go North, or South. Can never be
sure.
There are loads of people
there, someone will help you. If you
want we’ll give you a water bottle,
even though I already dropped a
couple on the way here.”
Mach was happy to have
Hillary, because Fred was
menacing. With Bush in her lap she
fell asleep, and for the first time, in
a long time, she felt safe and sure.
Because the whole time she was
lost, she was confused, having
mixed feelings about everything.
About the hawk, about Hillary and
Fred, and about even returning
home.
She had felt so many
feelings in those three days. She
felt excited, happy, scared, sad.
Now she didn’t know what to feel,
so she comfortably fell asleep.
The next morning Mach
woke up next to a dried out river
and an empty shack.
No people
were in sight.
She had been
dumped!
A hawk soared through
the sky, seeming more beautiful
each time it glided. Mach took her
thick sweater, wrapped it around
her arm tightly, and held it up the
highest she could. The hawk made
eye contact, and Mach wasn’t very
surprised when it flew to her arm
landing gently on the sweater. The
hawk swiftly took off, but slowly.
Did he want Mach to follow?
But she couldn’t! Mach
grabbed the doorknob of the shack
and thrust it open with her left arm.
Inside was an old, beaten down car
caked in mud. Mach’s jaw dropped.
She threw her arm in the car, but
couldn’t manage to pull herself in.
Mach faced yet another surprise
when she saw Bush sitting in the
passenger seat! After this trip, he
had grown about three feet in size
and was almost the size of an adult
lab. With his powerful teeth, he
grabbed Mach’s right sleeve and
pulled, and Mach pulled with her left
arm, and soon she was in the car.
She had her learner’s
permit, but never drove in a car
without an adult. Mach zoomed out
of the shack and followed the hawk
that was waiting on the roof. She
wasn’t worried about Bush, because
now he was way too big to be eaten
by the hawk. She was sure. In
about half an hour, Mach reached
the town she was staying at for her
track competition in Arizona. Mach
beeped vigorously until someone
stepped out to see what was wrong.
When the person spotted her, he
called the ambulance, and Mach was
taken inside. At the hospital, an old
man walked up to her.
“Hello there, my name is
James O’liff, and I own a pet store
not far from here. I came rushing
down when I heard about how this
bird saved you.”
“Yah, a hawk, lead me to
town, great bird,” Mach said.
“Yes, well, I checked out the
bird myself, and I have some
interesting news you might want to
hear,” the man said.
“What?” Mach pondered.
“See this here bird, is no
hawk,” the man said. “This bird is a
falcon.”
Mach looked at the man, and
suddenly, for the first time in days,
she smiled.
37
Highway
Matthew Gonzales
Smells like gas
Good ol’ motor oil
Burns quick like kindling wood Gas like rash
Itchy all over Fiery inside Hot head Smells like gas Only this time over the grill
Roadkill
Lost soul Frightened Smells like the earth
Looks like dirt
Tall Lone Ranger Trunk and all
Snaps on the road
Like kindling wood
5 by 7
Green thumb
Green body
Green everything Talk too much
Like kids in a car
Reached a road stop End o’ our journey for now
Homely
Takes all us in
Nasty truckers like me
Police
Road-trippers
All ‘em
38
SCRIPTA
“Messy Room” Jackie Kim
My Room
Yuval Nathaniel
My room
Looks like a total mess,
Laundry everywhere,
Stuff thrown around,
My bed whispers to me,
“Come take a nap,”
And the floor shouts at me,
“Clean me up!”
And if you listen quietly enough,
You can hear my ceiling fan shaking.
Almost like it’s getting dizzy
From going around in circles all day.
The shelves call out to me,
“Fill us with books!”
And my backpack calls to me,
“Do your homework!”
But I guess my room will always be like this,
A total mess.
39
A PIG NAMED SNORT SNORT
by Abby Rozen
“Hey!” Captain shouted over the thunder.
“Who’s got da map? I need it like, right now!”
Captain, a plump young fellow, was trying
to get his ship to shore before the storm ran in. All
of his crewmembers were in danger, and so was he.
Reader, how could this have started? Good
question. So about one week prior to this day,
Captain was at Target buying himself a pirate
costume with his four best buddies, one of which
was a pig. Then they went to Captain’s boat, and
decided to go around the beach with it. Suddenly, a
monstrous wind took them away into the middle of
nowhere.
Now, back to the story. Captain’s boat was
brown and very old. The wood was crooked and
moldy. The brown paint was peeling off, making
the ship look even older. Captain was wearing a
long purple shirt and short red pants. The storm
caused his pirate costume to fly off. All that was left
of it was the old, stained pirate hat. His long hair
was swaying in the harsh wind. He held onto the
wheel, steering it very carefully and precisely. He
looked calm, but despite his composed appearance,
he was not. Apparently Captain was the only one on
the ship who was worried. Snort-Snort the pig was
sitting down on the rusty, dusty old floor of
Captain’s boat, eating cup noodles. Yum! These
noodles are lovely, Snort-Snort thought to himself.
“Hey Snort-Snort, munchkin.” Captain
squealed. “Why you eatin’ cup noodles? Ain’t
nobody got time for dat!” Snort-Snort was the only
one on the top of the ship with Captain. Another
crewmember, Dave, was on the crow’s nest of the
ship eating a Happy Meal, shoving burgers down
his throat. Dave’s massive ears were showing
through his Yankees baseball cap. He had long
black hair in a ponytail. The two other
crewmembers, Rebecca and John, were in the
basement having fun, acting as if they were
children. Rebecca was an unladylike woman. She
ate with her hands and didn’t believe in showers. (If
you are a boy, I would recommend not taking her to
a 5 Star Restaurant). John was so manly. He had an
obsolete mullet, but was otherwise very goodlooking. He actually had good manners. (If you are
40
SCRIPTA
a girl, I would totally recommend taking him to a
Five Star Restaurant). Rebecca and John liked to
hang out a lot. They were really good friends.
“Hey Snort-Snort, Sweetcheeks, I need you
to steer my ship while I get the other two
crewmembers!” Snort-Snort, a fat pig, looked up
from his noodles, angry. Even though Snort-Snort
was a pig, and pigs don’t necessarily wear clothes,
he was wearing a tuxedo. Why? I really don’t know.
“But I want to finish my delicacy, love!”
Snort-Snort exclaimed. Captain gave him the look.
I hate him. Why does he make me do so much
work? Ugh fine, I’ll put my noodles away. Now stop
giving me that look. Why are you giving me that
look? Snort-Snort wondered. He got up and walked
over to the edge of the ship.
“Eeeeee! Ee-ee-ee-ee eeeeeee!” Snort-Snort
squealed. A dolphin jumped up form the ocean, and
Snort-Snort dumped his half-eaten meal into the
dolphin’s mouth.
“Tank woo,” the dolphin wailed.
Snort Snort went to the back of the ship,
got a chair, dragged it in front of the wheel, sat
down, and held on to the wheel. Yay. This is
fuuuuunnnn. Snort-Snort was thinking sarcastically.
He waved good-bye to Captain, an evil smile
spread across his face. He was going to do
something bad, and he knew it.
Captain was in the basement trying to talk
to Rebecca and John about teamwork but the
shaking of the ship interrupted him. Rebecca, John,
and he were on the scratchy floor, sliding back and
forth, hitting boxes of food that Snorty brought for
the trip. Captain eventually got a hold of the ladder,
and held on. He crawled to the top of the ship, and
saw that Snort-Snort’s chair was empty; he then
looked up and saw that Snort-Snort was at the
crow’s nest of the ship with Dave fighting over a
hamburger.
“It’s my hamburger!” Dave squealed.
“Love, calm down. I want it!” They were
playing tug of war with the mashed up Burger King
meal.
“Alright! That is enough! We gonna die and
ya’ll don’t give a cheez-it!” Snort-Snort jerked his
head in Captain’s direction.
“I want a Cheez-It,” Snort-Snort said loud
“Pig” Diva Kothari
and proud. Captain gave him another look.
Captain was worried for his crewmembers, but
his crewmembers weren’t worried for him, and
not even themselves.
Rebecca and John emerged from the
basement.
“I love y’all, and I don’t want y’all to
die. But in order to live, we need to work
together as a team. Okay?” Snort-Snort took the
hamburger and walked down the ladder of the
crow’s nest. Dave did as well.
“Um excuse me, Sir,” Snorty began. “I
have a question.”
“Go ahead,” Captain mumbled under
his breath.
“What does together as a team mean?”
Snort-Snort really didn’t know what it meant.
Maybe it means eat together he said inside of
his head.
“It means that we have to help each
other out, and help each other work so that we
can get this ship back home!” Captain
answered. “Now who’s in?” All of the
crewmembers put their hands in, even Snorty
put in his big fat trotters, and they all raised
their hands high to the sky. It was time to get to
work, but how?
“Rebecca, your job is to make some
paddles to help us row this boat! Make sure to
make them pretty.”
“Um, excuse me, Sir?” Rebecca said.
“Ain’t nobody got tiiiiiimmmme for
41
questions. Now get your tushie to work,” Captain
squealed. “John! You gonna do da cleanin’, get yo
toothbrush, and start scrubbin’ the deck.” John
nodded obediently. “Davey, honey,” Captain rolled
his eyes. “Just get me a sandwich.” Dave groaned.
“Snort-snort! Your job is to make sure everybody
else is doing their job.”
Snort-Snort smirked, but every other
crewmember groaned. This will be fun. He thought,
and this time it wasn’t sarcasm.
Everybody scurried to their jobs and began
to do what Captain had ordered them to do.
It had only been about five minutes before
Snort-Snort sat down on the cleaned spot of the
deck that Dave had just cleaned. Snort-Snort
opened a bag of chips. These crisps are divine. I’m
so tired. Snort-Snort thought. Why is Captain
making me do so much work? Walking around all
the time, making sure that Dave is making a
sandwich is so annoying.
“Snort-snort! I can’t believe you are doing
this.” Here we go again. Snort-Snort thought to
himself. He’ll just yell at me for a while, and then I
can get back to my relaxation time.
“That is it!” Captain slammed his pirate hat
on the nicely cleaned floor. “Once we find land,
you are done. O-ver! You are fired. Oh and also we
are not bff’s no more, so therefore, call me Mr.
Captain.”
Just make puppy eyes and nod, puppy eyes
and nod. Snort-Snort thought. He was about to get
up, but then decided that he has nothing to lose, so
he continued to read his magazine.
It had been about three days since Snorty
and Mr. Captain had their fight. The floor was
clean, the paddles were made, and the sandwich
was eaten. Rebecca was using the paddles, rowing
them up and down and forward and back, trying,
just trying, to make the boat move faster.
“Heyyyyyy Rebecca.”
“What do you want, Snorty?”
“I was just wondering if you were doing
anything tonight. Maybe we could catch a movie or
something.’”
“Get out of my face, you old rat.”
“Hard to get? That’s okay.” Snort-Snort
raised his eyebrows energetically with a
mischievous smile. Rebecca on the other hand, took
her paddle and scooted Snort-Snort out with it.
Five hours had passed, and now everybody,
except for Snorty, was making paddles and using
them to row the boat. Snort-Snort was just chilling
on the floor, eating Twinkies and reading a
magazine. All of a sudden, Snort-Snort dropped the
42
SCRIPTA
magazine. It landed on his big chubby belly, and he
dozed off.
“Captain! Captain!” Rebecca shouted. Her
face was filling with excitement.
“Listen, if it’s about the paddling, I told you
forward and-“
“No captain! Look behind you!” Captain
turned around and saw the treasure. A helicopter
was slowly zooming past them. Dave, Rebecca,
John, and Captain all jumped up and began to hop
up and down, arms up waving. They were saved!
“We did it!” Dave exclaimed. All of the
crewmembers cheered! The helicopter zoomed past
them but didn’t stop. It kept going, as the
crewmembers’ happiness dropped slower, slower,
slower. Their hearts were just ripped pieces of
paper.
“Uh, maybe they are just, uh, turning
around or something.” Everyone else agreed,
hoping, just hoping, that Rebecca was right. But the
helicopter kept going and going until it disappeared
into a cloud of white fog, and Snort-Snort kept on
snoozing. The crewmembers smiles turned upside
down, the hearts melting down to their chest.
Rebecca was crying. Captain walked over and gave
her a hug.
“It’s okay, honey. I don’t care what it takes,
we will get to shore!” Captain kissed her head,
smelling the salty, ocean water on her cold, wet
head. Dave walked over, gave Captain a pat on the
back and Rebecca a kiss on the cheek. Rebecca’s
tears climbed back to her eye, her heart, to save for
a different, more severe time.
It was bright and early one Saturday
morning. Snort-Snort, Dave, Rebecca and John
were sleeping in the basement of the ship. Captain
was already awake, eating an apple and reading a
book called, How To Get Pigs To Listen. He was
munching on his apple when all of a sudden he
swallowed the apple way before he should have. He
began to cough, trying to get the apple out. Since he
could not breathe, he began to bang on the floor and
the wheel. Rebecca heard the coughing and ran up
the stairs.
“Captain! Captain, are you alright?”
Well, reader, of course he wasn’t all right. I
mean, what was Rebecca thinking, asking someone
if they are all right when they are choking?
“HELP!” Rebecca shouted. She began to
blow in Captain’s mouth, thinking that that would
get the apple out. After many times of Rebecca
yelling for help, Snort-Snort emerged from the
basement, scratching his head, rubbing his belly.
Once his foggy eyes cleared up, he saw what was
happening. He waddled over as fast as he
could. He put his trotters around Captain’s
stomach and began to press and press, hoping,
just hoping, that he could get the apple out.
After about seven compressions, the apple
flew out and knocked Snort-Snort in the head.
Since Snort-Snort was leaning against the end
of the ship when he was helping Captain, the
apple caused him to lose balance. His fat feet
lifted off the ground, inch by inch by inch. His
arms let go of Captain’s stomach, flying into
the air as if he were on a rollercoaster. His
eyes closed, not wanting to see the nightmare
of the tragic thing he was about to experience,
for the first and last time. Aw crumpets, he
thought. His eyebrows turned into face each
other; he didn’t want to experience the pain,
the thoughts, the feeling of falling off of a
ship. I believe I can flyyyyy. Snort-Snort
thought. He was now completely off the boat,
his arms going everywhere. His fat body fell
towards the cold, salty water. All of a sudden,
BAM! His body hit the ocean hard like a stale
piece of toast. He held his breath; he began
feeling the terrible feeling of not being able to
breathe. But then, startlingly, he didn’t feel the
pain anymore.
One hour had passed, and now all of
the crewmembers circled around Snort-Snort’s
favorite food, pickles dipped in chocolate.
They used it as a memorial for his chubby life.
Every crewmember said something nice about
Snort-Snort. First up was Dave.
“I loved Snort-Snort. I loved the way
he ate everything, and I feel bad about fighting
with him over food, even though he needed to
watch his weight. I love you honey buns.”
Rebecca said, “I’m sorry for being
mean to you. You will be missed.”
John said, “Yo man, you were cool.”
Then, it was Captain’s turn.
“I take back all of the things I said
about mah Snort-Snort. I am sorry, Snorty, for
all of the times I yelled at you for eating,
because I know that it is your favorite thing to
do, and I know that your favorite piggy meal,
chocolate pickles, is waiting for you in piggy
heaven. I am sorry that I had that apple, not
only because it was your apple, but also
because it caused your death. I have always
loved you Snort-Snort, and I always will. You
will forever be in mah hearts and dreams, and
never disappear. Thank you honey, for being a
huge chunk of my life that will never
crumble.”
Then all of a sudden, a large pink
figure jumped up from the sea.
43
The wind blows
across my face.
Crack, the ball flies
up in the air
whipping the clouds.
Baseball
by Josh Meininger
Look around,
there is cheering.
As the ball flies out of bounds,
the crowd silences.
Disappointment.
“Ripe Tomato” Ishikaa Kothari
Red ‘n Ripe
by Nicholas Yim
A bloodshot fruit, green at first
Was watered and carefully nursed
It remained on a vine for a while
But plopped into a tomato pile
Much later it was impaled by a thorn
Which willed its insides to be torn
44
SCRIPTA
An Atrocious Achoo
by Barbara Gilman
A solitary sneeze
like a disease
ready to burst
a ghastly curse
just about to attack
after I must bounce back
I cannot feel at ease
a tissue please
ACHOOOOO
Bless you
45
“Intrepid” Lauren Lee
Moving On
by Aliyah Siddiqui
Not everyone was born with a mark of an emerald dragon on their left shoulder. Not everyone
was born among the tribe of emerald and sapphire dragons. But Lila, a descendant of ancient human
dragon riders, was. And it was going to change her fate for the better or the worse.
All of Lila’s family was dead. They had suffered from the virus Tidius. Tidius, the Asterian
word for “deadly,” was true to its name. It had begun at about the time when dragons and their riders
were banished from the human world. The humans had believed that dragons caused Tidius. It was
true, and as soon as the dragons left, Tidius went away from the human world, yet it stayed with the
dragon riders. Tidius started out with blue and green hives. There had ben plenty of viruses that
began out like that, so nobody really knew if it was Tidius or not. But then, after fifty-six hours of
having hives, the riders began throwing up blood. After twenty-four more hours of throwing up, the
people began to whither and die. Dragon riders were mostly infected by it, but recently, five cases of
Tidius had been reported in the human world. And it was spreading fast.
“Dragons. Dragon riders. It has come to our attention that Tidius has entered the human world.
Two dragons, along with their riders, will be chosen to look for the cure. Are there any volunteers?”
bellowed the chief human and dragon, Manfus and Zeke.
46
SCRIPTA
“You up for a challenge, Opal? I want to find the cure and get revenge on that stupid virus that
killed my parents,” Lila asked her faithful dragon.
Opal nodded her head.
“I volunteer!” Lila called out, her voice loud and clear.
“As do I,” a voice behind her said.
Lila spun around, coming face to face with Barthelomew, her caretaker. “You can’t come
with me! You’re annoying, stupid, old, and stink of dung heaps!” protested Lila.
“Yet I happen to be an expert archer and sword fighter,” replied Barthelomew with dignity.
Before Lila could reply, Manfus said, “I agree with Barthelomew, Lila. You two may go, but
be warned that the human world is filled cars, the most dangerous vehicle ever, after planes, trains,
bikes, buses, ships, boats, and canoes.”
He paused.
“Barthelomew, the Victorious, and Lila, the Inexperienced, along with their dragons, shall go
to the human world. Here is the cure that you must find: twelve perfectly round grains of sand
surrounding twelve different cacti. Put them in the same jar, shake them, and Tidius will no longer
exist for 1,000,000,000 millennia.”
Manfus cleared his throat. “All right. You peeps are leaving tomorrow. Good luck with
whatever. I'm in the mood for a snooze.”
Lila rolled her eyes. Manfus always did that. He sounded all oracley and ancient gothic, but
as soon as he ended his lectures, he always sounded like a hippie. Lila assumed it was to sound
young, although he was like, a hundred.
“Opal, why don’t you go talk to Tuka? Decide which path you are going to take. I heard that
Sahara is a desert. Find out where it is,” Lila commanded.
Opal, her dragon, laughed. “It’s the Sahara Desert. You say it like it’s a person. It is just the
Sahara Desert. But I get it. You plan to get me and Tuka talking, so you can get private archery
lessons with Barthelomew without Tuka laughing at all your mistakes. Smart. Just don’t forget to
pack your bags. Good luck!” With that, Opal let out a puff of fire and set off to the sky.
“You know me too well!” Lila called out, grinning. Her smile slowly disappeared as she
remembered the fact that she needed to practice archery. She never got a hit in archery. She stank
at it.
When she got to Barthelomew’s tent, she smiled again. Lila loved Barthelomew. Although
she hated to admit it, it was true. But then again, all of the things she had said before at the meeting
was true, except for the stupid part. In reality, Barthelomew was super smart and kind, too. After
Lila’s parents died, Barthelomew took her in as his own. Her aunt didn’t even take her in even
though they were related. Barthelomew was always patient with her, no matter how hard she could
be. Even Tuka, Barthelomew’s dragon, was loving. Although he teased her and made her angry, he
always defended her if people were being mean. He also told really corny jokes.
As Lila entered Barthelomew’s tent, he greeted her with a warm smile.
“Lila, my darling. How are you doing? I don’t exactly know why you said those things about
me, but I have a vague feeling it was because you don’t want me to tag along. So sad, too bad,
because I’m coming anyways. Someone has to keep you safe. Well, better get to work now. Come
here. You're holding the bow all wrong. And that arrow. The only way you would be able to win a
battle was if the enemy ran away because he was too scared you’d kill yourself. But that would
never happen.”
Lila sighed. It was going to be a long day.
******
After the archery lesson, Lila went back to her own tent.
“Well, I better get packing,” she thought. “It’s not like I have much to pack anyways.”
She quickly threw five pairs of clothing, two books, a jar to hold the sand in, a bow and
arrow, and a rope into a backpack.
Lila looked around her room. It was so empty. In the world of dragons, what you have is
based on your inheritance in age order. Since Lila’s mom had a younger sister, her aunt took all the
belongings her parents had. If her aunt died, all the belongings would go to her daughter, who was
still older than Lila. Barthelomew gave her everything that she had. The only thing left that she
had from her parents was the golden locket that had a picture of her whole family together. Lila
wore it all the time. It was carved like a rose, though it hardly looked like it since it was so old.
The snort behind her took her out of her thoughts.
“What are you thinking of?” Opal asked softly.
“Nothing.” Lila replied, as she got into her bed.
47
“Go to sleep. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“I know. Good night.”
“Sleep tight.”
“Don’t let the humans bite. “
“Now sleep!”
Soon, Lila heard the soft pattern of Opal snoring. She closed her eyes. After a while, she fell
asleep, listening to Opal’s breathing.
*****
“Rise and shine, Princesses.” Tuka called.
Lila rubbed her eyes. The sun wasn’t even up. “Why so early?” she asked.
“Because the early bird catches the worm. The sooner we get the cure, the sooner Tidius will
go away. Simple.”
Lila nodded. “Wake up, Opal!”
Opal blinked. She stared at Lila for a second and then saw Tuka and Barthelomew.
Understanding bloomed across her face. “Oh,” she said. “Well, let’s go. We will eat breakfast while
we’re flying.”
Together, they trudged off to the edge of the valley and took off.
******
Five hours later, Lila got tired of riding. They had reached the human world. At the moment,
they were flying right above the place called Titimunga, hiding in the clouds. According to Tuka, they
had yet two more hours until they reached the Sahara Desert. If the humans and animals didn’t kill her,
flying for seven hours straight would. She needed to get up and move!
Opal, sensing Lila’s discomfort, panted. “I think we should rest at that plain over there. I don’t
see any humans.”
Tuka and Barthelomew exchanged a glance but nodded. “You know, humans aren’t the only
things that could kill us,” Tuka muttered under her breath.
Nonetheless, both dragons landed at the plain gracefully.
Lila leaped off Opal and stretched.
She looked around at her surroundings. It was so peaceful, but so full of activity. There were
rabbits, squirrels, and even some exotic creatures like scorpions. Wait, scorpions?
“Barthelomew! There are scorpions here. Shouldn’t we leave?”
Barthelomew didn’t answer. He was staring intently at the scorpion that was inching towards his
exposed foot.
Lila gasped. “Move! You'll get bitten.”
Barthelomew shook his head. “No. If I move out of the way, I’ll get attacked more viciously. I
can only wait until it bites.”
“No!” Lila called. She started toward Barthelomew and Tuka, but Opal held her back with her
wing.
“You can’t Lila. Barthelomew and Tuka’s time has come. We will have to continue out without
them. Say your good-byes,” Opal said, tears streaking down her eyes.
“What do you mean ‘Tuka’s time?’ Will Tuka die, too? Is it because they're bonded?”
Although the question was for Opal, Tuka nodded. “You two should go. Fly safely. Get rid of
Tidius for us.”
Lila nodded, crying freely, as she boarded Opal. As they were about to take off, she saw the
scorpion sink its stinger into Barthelomew’s foot.
Barthelomew and Tuka shook violently as life slipped out from under them. The pair crumbled
and turned blue and yellow. They shook one more time before going completely still.
But by that time, Lila and Opal were far, far away.
******
Lila, who had stopped crying a while ago, stared blankly at the clouds. It had been half an hour
since the scorpion, but Lila still felt as is it happened a moment ago. Memories flooded her mind.
Barthelomew cutting her fifth birthday cake. Tuka jesting at her while Barthelomew practiced
archery with her. Barthelomew calling out to go on the journey that would end his life. Her guardians.
Her protectors. Her best friends. Gone in less than a minute. All because of one measly scorpion.
48
SCRIPTA
Opal interrupted her thoughts. “We arrived. But before we find the cacti, we must rest. The
desert gets cooler at night. It is sunset now, so we have about four hours before night. Get some
sleep. I’ll watch over us.”
“Sure, sounds great. I’ll take watch in two hours. Wake me up! You need to get your sleep
too, you know. Good night.”
As soon as she closed her eyes, Lila fell into a deep sleep.
******
“You didn’t wake me up.” Lila growled as she looked up and saw the moon shine too brightly,
given the previous events of the day.
“I apologize, but you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to disturb you. You should sleep
more often. You look very peaceful. Now stop scowling at me and start finding those cacti.”
Lila sighed. “All right. But before we leave, you are going to sleep.”
Opal nodded.
After that exchange of words, they walked in silence. The desert was full of movement. It
was as if the night was a party and every animal was invited to attend. The reptiles crawled like
babies, while owls flew overhead like dragonflies. Snakes hissed and mice squeaked. So full of
movement and noise, yet so equally balanced. The killings benefitted everyone. A perfect balance
with no worries. Well, almost no worries. It was a dog eat dog world out here. Or a strong animal
eat weaker animal world. Be a hunter or be hunted.
As hours passed and the moon began to fade, the pair had only found eleven out of the
twelve grains of sand. Although it took forever to separate that grain of sand out of the others, it
was time well spent. Lila put them in a tiny jar and then tucked the jar away into a safe location.
After one more perfectly round grain of sand, Tidius would be banished for a long time.
When almost all the animals went back into hiding, and the sun began to peak over the
horizon, Lila finally said, “I don’t see anything. Do you?”
Opal didn’t reply. After a while, Lila lost her patience and snapped.
“Um, can you I don’t know, answer me? Five people on Earth are dying, so many already
died, and many more may be affected. And all you're doing is staring at the sun. People are waiting
for us. They’re expecting two untrained creatures to save their hides. And what you're doing isn’t
helping at all. If Barthelomew and Tuka were here…” her voice died out, thinking of her lost
comrades.
Opal didn’t say anything, but Lila noticed a trail of tears trailing down her scaly face. Lila
immediately felt guilty.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean it. I just...snapped. We’ll figure it out. I promise.
This sounds so cheesy and unreal. I hate it. But I swear, we will kill Tidius no matter what. Now it
is time for a pep talk. We will avenge Barthelomew and Tuka. We will save all of mankind. We will
do everything. We will-“
“Shut up! You sound like a pathetic loser. Sorry, but it’s true. I apologize for not answering.
And I don’t see any more cacti. But I do have a GREAT idea. Why don’t we just shut up and forget
this ever happened? You see a cactus then tell the other person. We’ll find the grain of sand and the
end. Problem solved. Now shush!”
“Geez, I was just trying to help,” Lila grumbled.
Opal shot her a look. It was the “Why can’t you kids ever follow the directions look” look that
teachers often gave to their students.
Lila rolled her eyes.
After a while, Opal stopped walking and stared straight ahead.
“What is it, Opal?” Lila asked, trying to follow Opal’s gaze. “Is that a fairy? I don’t think I’m
hallucinating, because it’s growing and getting closer and bigger. Plus, it has wings and is kind of
fat. All fairies look like that. Well, at least in stories, so I think I’m right.”
“Wow,” said Opal. “I think you’re right. I always thought fairies existed in fairy tales only. I
guess not.”
The fairy creature stopped right in front of Opal. “I see you don’t quite believe that I’m real.
So to prove to you that I am a fairy, I will show you the ghosts of your parents.”
All of a sudden with a shimmering light, Lila's parents appeared. Lila gasped.
The images spoke. “Sweetie, this is a real fairy. We can’t say any inspiring words to you
because Agatha, the fairy, doesn’t want you to become attached to our ghosts. Agatha will tell you
where to find the twelfth cactus, which isn’t in the Sahara. It’s in a chamber in Shasaya. It contains
your heart’s desire. Do not trust anything it tries to tempt you with. Just get the sand and ride back
to the Dragon World. Or not. As soon as you shake the jar containing the sand, Tidius will vanish.
49
So you could just fly around and try to live in the human world with Opal. It’s your choice. But know
that we are very proud of you both. Bye and good luck, sweets!”
Then Lila's parents disappeared as quickly as they came. In their place stood Agatha.
“Now do you believe me?” the fairy asked.
Both Lila and Opal nodded, too stunned to speak.
“Good. Now that we got that cleared, I must say, I'm surprised you didn’t know what I was.
I always thought dragons recognized us, but I suppose not. Anyways, when I snap my fingers, you
will see the twelfth cactus right in front of you. Although I'm sure your parents told you this, the
twelfth cactus can be very tempting. Don’t fall into its trap. If you do, you will be no more. On that
happy note, good luck, and when you ask me to, I will transport you to the twelfth cactus. Oh yeah!
And if you need, just call my name. I’ll come to you. You two have good hearts. I trust that you will
do well.”
Lila looked at Opal, who shrugged and then nodded.
“Thank you, and if you may, please take us to the twelfth cactus,” Lila said.
Agatha smiled and snapped her fingers.
Lila blinked and saw herself in a chamber with only a giant cactus and Opal. The chamber
was built with dirty brownish red bricks and filled with an ominous red smoke and dim light. There
was also a voice haunting her and taunting her. They promised her parents, Barthelomew, and Tuka
alive. They promised her a place to belong. They promised her all that she wanted.
But in the midst of all the false promise was an envious voice, as if it wanted all of Lila. Lila
knew it wouldn’t keep those promises.
She got down on her hands and knees and began sifting through the sand. After a few
moments, Lila realized that Opal wasn’t helping her. She looked up and saw Opal.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked Opal. “Your eyes are red. That’s unusual. Aren’t they
usually green? Oh, wait a minute. Are you listening to the cactus? Opal, NO! Don’t listen to it! It isn’t
true! Don’t trust it!” Lila shouted desperately.
“I must,” said Opal hazily. “It says I can get my parents back. Mama and Papa would still be
alive.” Opal muttered, moving forward toward the cactus.
“No!”
Lila tried jumping on her, hitting her, calling her name, everything, but Opal seemed unfazed.
Then Lila did the one and only thing that came into her mind. “Agatha, I need you!”
Agatha appeared. “You need me?”
“Opal’s listening to the cactus. Can you stop her?”
The fairy looked at Opal, who was now steps away from the cactus, and nodded grimly.
“I will transfer my powers to you and Opal, so you will be protected from the chamber’s
magic. I will begin to fade, but do not worry. As soon as you collect the cure, I will give you one last
burst of energy, enough to get you out of the chamber. Understand?”
“Why would you fade? But I get it. Please hurry!”
The fairy began her magic.
Lila anxiously looked at her bond, who seemed stunned to be standing over the cactus.
“What happened?” Opal asked. Then she saw Agatha. “And when did Agatha get here?”
Lila shook her head. “I’ll explain in detail later, but basically, you were possessed by the
cactus so I called Agatha. Agatha said that she would give us her magic to protect us from the
voices and then transfer us out. She also said that she would begin to fade but not to worry. We
have to hurry!”
“Umm, Lila? You do know that when a fairy fades, it means that it’s dying, right?”
“What?! No. Agatha… she can’t die! What have I done? I am such an idiot!”
“Lila, not to sound conceited or anything, but you called Agatha so that I could live. You did
the right thing. Agatha will always live if we honor and never forget her. Same with Barthelomew
and Tuka. As long as we retell their stories, they will live on for eternity. Now stop thinking about
that and find the grain of sand!”
Lila nodded. Then she got down and began searching again. This time, Opal was helping
her. After a few false calls, Lila found something that felt like another grain of sand that was
perfectly round. As she sifted some more, she discovered that it was.
“Quick, Opal. I found the twelfth grain of sand. Give me the jar!”
Opal silently tossed the jar to Lila with her jaws. Lila caught it and scrupulously put the
piece of sand into the jar. She shook it three times. Then the jar vanished, taking Tidius along with
it.
“Yes! We did it! We rock!” Lila and Opal crowed. Lila looked at Agatha next.
“Thanks, Agatha for everything. We couldn’t have done it without you. We’ll never forget
you.” Lila said, though her heart sank in the thought of losing someone else she loved.
50
SCRIPTA
Agatha gave one last smile and disappeared. Lila got onto her dragon and together they flew
into a portal that appeared after Agatha vanished. Lila blinked and found herself in the desert again.
“Well, we ended Tidius. What do you want to do now?” Lila asked.
“Go back to the Dragon World.”
Lila nodded, although she knew it would be hard to find someone to take care of them now
that Barthelomew and Tuka were gone.
Nonetheless, she climbed on her dragon, and together they flew to their Tidius-free home.
51
I don't know why I left.
-=-+-=People say the night sky is the darkest thing.
The silhouettes of the trees are darker.
-=-+-=I can't see what I'm writing.
-=-+-=I can hear them coming.
-=-+-=I need to hide. My legs will be sore tomorrow.
-=-+-=It's cold and I don't know where I am. Light comes and goes far too quickly.
-=-+-=I'm being hunted. I know it.
-=-+-=Huh, I don't hear them anymore.
-=-+-=Ever since yesterday, it's been too cold.
-=-+-=Light is useless. I can't see a thing.
-=-+-=Petty thing I am. Though, I found a calendar. I have no idea what it's doing out here.
Has it really been six weeks?
-=-+-=Monsters. The stench is undeniable.
-=-+-=Everywhere I turn I know they're coming. They howl, they howl, they howl-I can't run anymore.
by Lauren Lee
52
SCRIPTA
“Beast’s Eye” by Zana Allajbegu
COMING
Anna sighed. As her eyes grazed her
demolished leg, her broken arm, and bruised
stomach, she felt the tears in her eyes once again,
threatening to drizzle down her cheeks.
She
remembered little of the accident, just sitting in
the immaculate new car, when suddenly,
everything blacked out into pure nothingness.
She recalled a pained shriek from someone but
could not identify who.
Now, Anna lay unmoving on the bed,
hospitalized, and listening to the constant beep
of the IV hooked to her chest. An antiquated
lamp sat next to her. She thought, reminiscing of
the once exuberant cries of her brother, only two
at the time of the accident. She thought about
the beautiful smiles of her once-alive, breathing
parents, who, she was told a day ago, she would
never see again. The fact was still new to her,
and it brought a terrible, calling ache to her heart
that demanded to be tended to. Of course, she
neglected the melancholy, unwilling to confront
it for the fear of it resurfacing, just like the day
before. Instead, she tried her best to elude it,
burying her depression deep .
“Anna Elizabeth Burton?" An aged nurse
walked into the small room, the smell of lemon
soap redolent in the atmosphere. Lemon soap.
Old, stingy lemon soap. Not fresh.
Anna only acknowledged the nurse with
misery.
“Honey, everything will be alright. Your
records are showing that you are doing well.”
54
SCRIPTA
The worker tried to assuage Anna’s feelings of
sadness, as if she had done that repetitively with
lots of patients. Anna had no doubt that she did.
“Your grandmother has proposed an
agreement with the Officers of Supervision
Committee to take you to live with her.”
Anna’s eyes remained hollow, a
penetrating gaze.
It was obvious, Anna realized, that she
would have to go home with someone. The only
family she had left was her old grandma, who
always wore bright blouses and leather loafers, a
woman of embarrassment. She always talked of
the growth of ducklings, and she spritzed on
body scents from the dollar store. Anna did not
find her a family member that she could tolerate.
This assumption came clear when about five
years ago, Grandmother Lila had attended her
third grade play.
“I remember my first third grade play.
My line was about how frogs were green,”
Anna’s grandmother had stated over and over
before the play. And on the day of the play,
when it was time for Anna to walk up to the
microphone and speak, Granny had shouted,
“THAT’S MY DUCKY DUMPLING!”
Anna’s nine year old face had turned a
deep crimson, purely flushed. A group of
children had erupted into clamorous giggles.
Her spotlight was ruined. Later that day, when
the play had come to an end, Anna fumed
silently at her grandmother.
H O M E....
by Katie Vandermel
“Why did she even have to come??” Anna
had whined to her father.
“Because she’s family,” he had replied.
“Anna, Anna, ANNA!!!”
Anna looked up. The nurse was calling
her name.
Anna’s body trembled with surprise.
“You will be going home in about two
days,” the nurse said. “You will recover and
attend school in about two weeks.”
Anna’s eyes widened. I can’t go back to
school! she thought. What will they think of me?
Will they bully me? How can I survive the rest of
my life without my true family? Why is life so
unfair? What did I do to possibly deserve this?
She felt as if she was turning a bit psycho. If only
her mother was here, telling her she’d be okay.
Suddenly bewildered but exhausted, Anna closed
her eyes, and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The last two days in the hospital went by
quickly, although it wasn’t easy. Anna had to
endure putrid odors, screams and cries from the
patients, and the stress of her headaches. She got
the headaches because of the constant vociferous
voices in the hallways. Anna also smelled the
lemon soap and thought about how it wasn’t
happy. Like it was gloomy, sad just like her. Just
being inhaled by ill patients. But by now, it was
time to go home.
Grandmother Lila had retrieved all Anna’s
belongings from Anna’s old house and packed
them in a suitcase. Anna used her crutches to
make her way out of the hospital. The nurse
insisted on helping her, but Anna refused,
determined to do this alone, although the nurse
escorted her out the door.
Ah, fresh air, Anna thought, eagerly
sniffing. No longer lemon soap.
Grandma Lila was waiting, wearing a
bursting red blouse, plastic pearls around her
neck, and leather stilettos. She smiled genuinely
when she saw Anna.
“Oh, my mini mushie!!” she cried.
Anna held in a cringe. Her grandma had
very apparent red lipstick on, and when her
grandma moved her lips, Anna was disgusted.
Grandmother Lila was from Norway and
though she had quickly adapted to the United
States with her accent fading away, she still had
some incoherent words.
“Hi Grandmother,” Anna said with an
emotionless face.
“Let’s go sweetie,” her grandmother said.
Anna did not reply. With the help of an
aide, she got in the car.
The whole ride home, it was Anna’s
grandmother who made many attempts for
conversation. Anna ignored her and sat quietly.
The fabric of the seats were irritating, and there
was barely enough room to prop up her broken
limb. She hated her life. She really did.
When the vehicle finally pulled up in front
of a driveway, Anna knew they were at her
grandma’s home.
Reluctantly, she had her
grandma lift her out of the car and help her onto
her crutches. Anna trudged to the front door.
55
The only family she had left was her old grandma, who always wore bright blouses and leather loafers, a
woman of embarrassment. She always talked of the growth of ducklings, and she spritzed on body scents
from the dollar store.
As she walked in, scents of oak pollen,
honey, and sugar wafted in the air. Anna took in
the smell willingly, gladly accepting the any aroma
that was different than the lemon soap from the
hospital.
“Would you like a sugar cookie? I baked
them just for you. You like them, don’t you? You
know, and your da-” Grandma was cut off.
“Yes please,” Anna said with a hint of
annoyance. Why couldn’t the old woman just stop
talking?
Grandmother Lila gave Anna a sugar
cookie
with
a
glass
of
warm
milk.
"I'm sorry dear, but I am a bit busy at the
moment. I'll come back in an hour." As she was
midstep out the door, Anna’s grandmother called,
"There are snacks in the pantry and food in the
fridge." And that was that.
Anna sat quietly on the sofa, nibbling on
her cookie. The recipe was familiar, just like her
mom’s cookies. She sniffed at the thought, vividly
remembering when her mom would bake her and
her brother cookies, and her brother and she would
fight over the cookie that had turned out to be the
biggest. If only my little brother was here. Anna
didn't know how she would ever feel same again.
Anna tried to cry, but no tears would come out.
She missed her family so much. Why did they die
but I lived?
Isn't it so remarkable that life is with a
person for one moment, and in a second, it can be
gone? It is unimaginable that life can perish in a
few missteps, or, in some cases, steps for a
purpose. What is life? Anna wondered. That was
something she would try to figure out.
Anna continued eating, observing the
eclectic selection of thin paperbacks on a few
shelves, and the dinky little lamp on the coffee
table. It was silent, but Anna found solace in
56
SCRIPTA
silence, because she was now accustomed to not
having much conversation with people anymore.
Suddenly, drowsiness overcame her, and Anna let
her lids droop as she took a peaceful nap.
A few hours later Anna felt a nudge.
"Anna?" "Sweetheart?"
Anna looked up and saw her grandma, and
she grudgingly forced herself out of the sofa,
groaning at the stiffness in her neck.
"You have school in three days," Grandma
Lila said.
As if that would be forgotten. The thing
that Anna dreaded the most was going to school.
She fretted over how people would think of her,
and how they would try to befriend her out of pity.
She looked at the clock.
5:06 p.m! Her eyes shifted to grandma.
"Are we going to eat?" she asked.
Grandma, startled by the sudden
realization, looked at the present time.
"Of course!"
Grandma Lila then proceeded to the
kitchen, retrieving ingredients for whatever meal
she was preparing.
Fifteen minutes later, Grandma Lila
brought Anna’s meal, a steamy broth a bit
overcooked, consisting of thick ingredients. Anna
ate it but not eagerly.
The next day, Anna awoke to the
overenthusiastic ring of Grandma Lila’s voice and
groaned. “Rise and shine!” The sun’s rays radiated
off the bedroom window, casting a harsh gleam
directly on Anna’s eyes.
“C’mon honey!” Grandma said, “We are
going to the mall today.”
Anna refused.
Grandma gave her a stern look.
“Anna, you are in desperate need of some
clothes. After all, if I were you, I would want to
look a bit more pleasant in new attire rather than
the same identical pair of pants and loose, plain tshirts.”
Anna got up with a grumble, wishing it
was her mom or dad going shopping with her
instead of this old lady.
A few hours later, Anna found herself
limping on the marble floor of the mall, overcome
with the amount of commotion around her. She
felt self-conscious and a bit dizzy. Together
though, she and her grandmother popped in stores,
purchasing what they thought suited Anna. When
they were done with their shopping excursion,
they made their way to the food court, where they
spent a great length of time waiting in line to get
their chicken sandwiches and vitamin water,
which was a peculiar combo indeed. On the way
home, as Anna thought about the day, she actually
found that she enjoyed the trip. She hadn’t been to
the mall, or to any public place for that matter, in a
long while. But despite the positive feeling, Anna
couldn’t deny the gnawing in her stomach.
School was approaching fast. What would happen
Anna did not know.
A week and three days later Anna awoke,
and all of the emotional struggles of apprehension
and feeling distraught came crashing down on her.
She was as nervous as a jittery mouse. She got up
with a start, and slung her leg in the boot she was
temporarily wearing. The doctor had permitted
the usage of the boot a day ago, since Anna’s leg
was nearly healed. It was good her arm had
healed quickly, and the bruises had faded away, or
else she would’ve looked like a beaten up rag doll.
Anna fished through her dresser drawers, carefully
selecting a snug sweatshirt and a pair of new
tights and one worn boot for her other uninjured
foot. She stumbled over to the mirror, gazing in
securing it with an elastic. She ate breakfast
quickly and had her grandma drive her to the big,
red brick building where classes would start.
Burrow Hall Middle School. It felt funny saying
the word. Weird. Anna got out of the SUV
clumsily, hastily snatching her bag and walking
grudgingly to the entrance. She could already feel
a few eyes on her and hear a string of whispers.
She noticed a few girls, one with huge hoop
earrings and others with glasses. One girl in
particular in the corner, with green eyes looking at
her intently, interested her. She had a book in her
hand. She looked like she wanted to say
something to her, and Anna was hopeful. But then
she didn't. Anna heard words like,“The orphan. I
feel so sorry for her. What a pity,” floating around.
Anna’s face reddened. This was going to be a bad
day.
Five hours later, Anna grimaced as she
exited the building. Through all of her classes, she
was met with looks of I’m sorry, or poor girl, for
her accident. She endured many stares, and her
face turned a deep crimson for most of the day. At
lunch, not a single person bothered to offer her a
smile or invite her to their table, for she was
hopelessly alone.
Now waiting for her grandmother to pick
her up, she glanced at her flip phone in depression.
Yes, she had a flip phone and yes, the day had
been awful. She glanced around, her eyes settling
on the same girl with emerald eyes, black hair, and
wire rimmed glasses. The girl was reading a
book. It was the girl who had previously intrigued
Anna. Anna was surprised. The girl looked up.
Anna looked away. A few seconds later, Anna
quickly looked back, fearful of the girl catching
her looking again. But to Anna’s surprise, the girl
She sniffed at the thought, vividly remembering when her mom would bake her and her brother
cookies, and her brother and she would fight over the cookie that had turned out to be the
biggest. If only my little brother was here.
her reflection critically, noticing her long, tangled
brunette ringlets and oversized mouth, before
sweeping her hair into a high ponytail and
was staring straight at her, book in hand. They
looked at each other. The girl spoke after a long
pause.
57
“Dark Forest” Emily Luo
“ Hi?” she said with uncertainty, her eyes
inquisitively looking at Anna.
“Hello?” Anna said.
“My name is Rhea,” the girl said shyly, like
she had never spoken to many people before.
Anna looked down, equally as shy. Her
eyes fell on the book Rhea was holding, one of her
favorites from a year ago. Coincidently, she would
always read it with her mom, going over the story
with her and marveling at the ridiculous moments.
“I’ve read your book before.” Anna said, at
a loss of words.
“Oh,” Rhea looked at her book, then back
at Anna, before breaking out into a sly grin. “Care
to share the ending?”
“Kaspar turns into an evil demon made
from molten lava, and Poseidon becomes
overweight.” Anna replied, bursting into a fit of
giggles.
Rhea joined her, and Anna couldn’t help
but feel like this was one of her first moments in a
long time that involved laughter.
“Do you…” There was a pause, and Rhea
looked nervous. “Do you want to come over
sometime?”
58
SCRIPTA
Anna was shocked. She didn’t mind her
coming over. Could this be a real start of
friendship? She had doubt, but at the same time,
she was really excited.
“I’d like that.”
Rhea’s face lit up, and the girls exchanged
numbers. By then, Anna’s grandmother’s car had
pulled up. As Anna climbed in, she waved to Rhea,
smiling so wide her cheeks were starting to ache.
Maybe things weren’t so bad after all.
Maybe you just had to wait for the right moment to
meet someone, Anna thought. Maybe, finally
somehow, Anna was coming out of her shell of
sadness. She was living her life again.
Yes, Anna thought, smelling the crisp, fresh
air and smiling, the smell in her nose no longer the
old lemon soap. Yes, this is my life. No more
hiding, no more being miserable. I’m going to live
my life for real. Because once your life is gone,
you can never get it back.
Limbo
by Lauren Lee
Down this road I saw,
and I saw
long ago,
words taught I.
And I looked forwards,
where the ceiling rode red,
where the lamp shone
orange,
where the skylights hailed
black.
And I walked forwards
to the falling cliff,
with bruised and bleeding
feet-and my eyes looked down,
but I did not see past the
clouds
undulating with the power
of nothing.
And I did see
words taught I,
because I did not see
a blue buzzing fly.
59
Weeping willows sweep their white flowers
Across the winds
Weeping brides sweep their white dresses
Across the dirt
Ever so slowly
Loneliness of soul in part
Pain of mind
A broken heart
Gone is he, never to return
But ever so much did her heart yearn
For warmth of love
A mended heart
To be anything but apart
Without his love
She thereof
Was nothing more than a caged dove
Senselessly banging her wing on the cage
Daring to escape
Cutting years from her age
Dying so slowly
Crumbling her heart
Becoming so lowly
Tears fell upon her shattered cheeks
Marred by her heart
With which she had tried but failed to understand
How
Why
What
What was so wrong that she had to break her wings
And mar her cheeks
And scar her heart?
And when he returned
Oh her heart burned
With hatred and malice
For he had left her with the heart of a broken palace
No longer loving
But sick and sullen
Melancholy
A crippled heart her bosom would bear
She could not love
She would not care
But only hate
That which had broken her wings
A cruel twist of fate
by Alice Militaru
60
SCRIPTA
Sea Green
by Meryem Ozgen
I find myself lost in the sea green of your eyes
In the middle of nowhere
On an island
Where white seagulls are screeching and cawing
And there’s an overwhelming smell of salt
I furtively glance around
And gingerly place a toe into the water
It’s seems alright
So I dive in
Headfirst
I say hello to all the
Bright orange clownfish
And I avoid the sharks
When I’m done
I try come up for a breath
But I’m in too deep
And I’m drowning
My mind gets cloudy
And my muscles start to relax
But then you glance away
And I need you to
Drown me again
“Darkness” Lauren Lee
61
Speaking With My Past Self by Matthew Gonzales
INT. BEDROOM - DESK - MIDDAY
PAST MATT
(Medium shot of PAST MATT
looking over script.
First on computer, then physical.)
(Bites end of pen)
CURRENT MATT
(questioningly)
(opens door)
(while in doorway)
What are you doing?
PAST MATT
(concentrated)
(still looking at script)
Writing a script.
CURRENT MATT
(sternly)
(walks in and takes script)
No you’re not.
(a beat) You’re doing it wrong.
(examines script further)
PAST MATT
(worried)
What?
(a beat) What did I do wrong?
CURRENT MATT
(correcting)
This isn’t proper screenplay format.
(holds up script)
This looks like a kindergartner’s work.
PAST MATT
(worried)
Really?
Yes.
62
SCRIPTA
CURRENT MATT
(sternly)
This looks like a list of characters and the words they say.
beat) And it’s typed in magenta Chalkduster.
Nothing more.
(a
PAST MATT
(worriedly looks around)
(a beat) Well, how can I fix it?
CURRENT MATT
(sternly)
Well, there’s putting it in proper format.
(looks at script again)
Here.
You need your slug line.
That’s the description of the scene itself.
outdoor, indoor, day, night.
Like if it’s
PAST MATT
(confused)
Okay…
(takes script from CURRENT MATT)
(looks down at script and makes correction)
(frustrated)
(looks back up slowly)
There. Proper format.
CURRENT MATT
(sternly)
You’re supposed to do that every time the setting changes.
PAST MATT
(angrily)
All right.
(makes a second adjustment)
There.
All proper format.
CURRENT MATT
(sternly)
And, uh, your parentheticals.
PAST MATT
(questioningly)
My what?
CURRENT MATT
(sternly)
Your parentheticals.
(a beat) It’s the description of the expression of the character’s
dialogue.
PAST MATT
(gaining confidence)
I don’t want to make parentheticals. That just sounds wrong.
Why do I need to--
63
CURRENT MATT
(observantly)
(takes script)
Now that I actually care to read your dialogue and action, I see that not only does is
the format incorrect,
(looks back up at PAST MATT)
but everything is incorrect.
PAST MATT
(defensive)
(takes script)
What do you mean, incorrect?
CURRENT MATT
(grimacing)
It’s wrong.
PAST MATT
(defensive)
How can art be wrong?
(takes back script and examines it)
CURRENT MATT
(grimacing)
(takes back script)
Anything can be wrong if done incorrectly. Take for example children coloring outside
the lines. And construction work, buying second hand wear off eBay, and-PAST MATT
(shyly)
Okay, okay. Just leave me alone.
CURRENT MATT
(softly)
Well,
(tosses script on PAST MATT’s desk)
(yelling)
Do you want this properly done or not?!
PAST MATT
(scared)
Yes.
CURRENT MATT
(sternly)
Then do what I say.
64
SCRIPTA
(regains kindness)
Now, center your character names.
<shot of both of them at desk>
PAST MATT
(worried)
(sighs)
(makes the adjustments)
CURRENT MATT
(smiling)
Excellent.
Well, not yet.
(sternly)
Wait for the YouTube comments to roll in.
PAST MATT
(worried, scared)
(makes adjustments more furiously)
CURRENT MATT
(proudly)
(walks out of room)
(while in doorway)
Get to work.
(slams door)
PAST MATT
(worried)
(resumes working)
FADE OUT
“Sided Thoughts” Katherine Miller
65
No Umbrella
by Yahav Manor
The dark sky
Rose upon me
The thunder pounded
Lightning exploded
Rain, really heavily, rasped
I was completely soaked
No umbrella
No one near
So I sat on the tree stump
And listened to the syncopated
Sound of water hitting the ground
And I listened, and I listened, and I listened
Then I wondered if Mother Nature was crying
Or laughing tears of joy
But there still was no umbrella
66
SCRIPTA
“Umbrella” Isabelle Lee
No One to Hold Going Home
by Barbara Gilman
I was alone. I watched people embrace each other. I looked to my right
and left but there was no one around. Some people were inseparable. There
was no one for me. I was alone.
67
Not Just Yet
by Jeanne Hagen
I honestly don't really want to grow up
At least
Not
Just Yet
I want to still be able to ride my bike,
Rollerblade
Skateboard
And run
To do things with
My
Friends
To be able to trick-or-treat
and eat a bucket-load of
Candy
I wanna wake up every morning
With my Mum's
Delicious
Waffles wafting
Upstairs to my room
I wanna still be able to dream things
that are completely
Ridiculous and
Unreal
I want to still be able to play
Random games
With others
I want to be allowed to do
Things
Sure I don't wanna be young forever
But I don't wanna grow up
Not
Just
Yet
“Yield to Time” Jackie Kim
68
SCRIPTA
Finding the Key
by Abby Rozen
The whole scheme of it causes me to feel
Like I stepped out of a cage
Or the affection I get when I ace a test.
Superior to any birthday present
I've ever acquired.
A kind of rewarding sensation,
With sparkles glittering here and there.
You think I shouldn't look back, but you omitted
The obnoxious jail bed at age one,
Or the fact I was grounded with words at age two
The building of sentences at age three,
The leash at age four,
The cootie baseball caps at age five.
The playdates age six,
And the boyfriend at age seven, but my mom
Didn't unlatch the cage.
I utter goodbye to the leash
That led me everywhere.
I say farewell to the glue
That stuck me, never let me free.
I say goodbye to the cage.
That trapped me.
Savored me.
But now I'm always out,
Hanging out with my friends.
Back then we used to have playdates.
My friends always got trapped here.
With me.
And I couldn't walk alone,
As I can today.
It seems like only yesterday when I used to interpret
That I would be trapped in the jail forever.
But now I open the door.
I find The Key.
I never let it
go.
69

Poems on Turtle Shells - Closter Public Schools

Transcription

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