JULY 2020 ILLINOIS TENTH CONGRESSIONAL DISTRICT DEMOCRATS NEWSLETTER POETRY EDITION

Tenth News Special Edition

10th ANNUAL

POETRY and PROSE COMPETITION AND AWARDS CEREMONY

Literary EditionVolume X

First Prize, PoetryAnali Mendoza, Zion Benton Township High School, Grade 11, “Inheritance”

Second Prize, PoetryAnya Stefany, Waukegan High School, Grade 12, “Two roads and the MRI.”

Third Prize, PoetryKaleb Soderberg, Zion Benton Township High School, Grade 10, “Life 3:17”

Honorable Mention, PoetryKamaria Cambridge, North Chicago High School, Grade 9, “Insane”

Honorable Mention, PoetryKatrina Padilla, Cristo Rey St. Martin College Prep School, Grade 10, “Fruitless Sin”

Honorable Mention, Poetry Jennifer Mendoza, Waukegan High School, Grade 12, “Time of Day”

First Prize, ProseAlex Molina, Waukegan High School, Grade 12, “I Did it All for You”

Second Prize, ProseAja Myers, Zion Benton Township High School, Grade 11, “The Successor”

Third Prize, ProseToluwanimi Akinlade, Zion Benton Township High School, Grade 11, “Warmth”

Honorable Mention, Prose Anahi Infante, Cristo Rey St. Martin College Prep School, Grade 10, “Intertwined”

Honorable Mention, ProseSilvano Guerrero, Waukegan High School, Grade 10, “The Snails Decision”

Honorable Mention, ProseDre Batie, North Chicago High School, Grade 12, “New Desires”

Our 2020 Poetry + Prose Competition Winners

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Winners . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2

Awards Night a Virtual Success . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4

“Inheritance” by Anali Mendoza . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5

“Two roads and the MRI” by Anya Stefany . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6

“Life 3:17” by Kaleb Soderberg . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7

“Insane” by Kamaria Cambridge . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

“Fruitless Sin” by Katrina Padilla . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

“Time of Day” by Jennifer Mendoza . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .11

“I Did it All for You” by Alex Molina . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12

“The Successor” by Aja Myers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16

“Warmth” by Toluwanimi Akinlade . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18

“Intertwined” by Anahi Infante . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20

“The Snails Decision” by Silvano Guerrero . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25

“New Desires” by Dre Batie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26

Judges . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27

Winners’ Photos . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28

Zoom-Pics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29

Zoom-Chats . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32

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Table of Contents

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By Carolyn Cerf

Dedicated local Dems and literature lovers gathered, albeit virtually, to honor young writers and their self-expression at Tenth Dems’ 10th Annual Poetry and Prose Awards Night on Wednesday, June 17th. As Tenth Dems Vice-Chair Barbara Altman stated, “As Democrats, we believe that we’re all in this together. We believe that politics is about more than just elections. It’s about making our community and world a better place, and what better way to do that than to try to make the world a better place for young people?”

The prompt for this year’s contest was CHOICES, which produced a variety of poems and stories about life’s choices large and small. Every young writer who participated received a certificate commending their participation, and prizewinners in poetry and prose, whose anonymous works were judged by panels of local published poets, received generous cash awards in the form of gift cards.

The evening began with brief, but warm remarks from State Rep. Joyce Mason (D-51st), whose district includes Zion and parts of Waukegan, and 10th District Congressman Brad Schneider, who were introduced by Tenth Dems Co-Chair Eric Herman. Mason told the students, “ The art and work that you are doing is so incredibly important. We need your voice. Democracy relies on it, and

I welcome hearing what you have to say so I can raise your voices in Springfield.”

Congressman Schneider also addressed the young writers, expressing his genuine excitement about hearing again from these talented young people. He quoted the last lines of “Invictus,” by William Ernest Henley, famously cited by Nelson Mandela as having helped him persevere through his time in prison. Responding to the theme, CHOICES, Rep. Schneider quoted “...I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul, ” which he said gives him comfort amidst the tumultuous world of politics and which he also called an empowering message for these young artists.

Marc Jones, a Waukegan Park District Board Member and the Board’s immediate past president, once again hosted the evening. He introduced each of the young writers who read, and even without the proximity of a live event managed to convey warmth and encouragement to each of them.

Not only did every one of the prizewinning student writers read their winning entries, but several other participants presented their poems and stories, including several of those whose work earned honorable mention. The judges, who were present to congratulate the authors of the works they’d cited for awards, remarked how exceptionally difficult it was this year to make those choices.

Poetry and Prose Contest Awards Night a Virtual Success

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Inheritance

My veins fuel red. My fists curl up. My screams fill the room. I inherited your anger.

The way my eyes shine when the sun hits them just right. The way my skin tans during the summertime. I inherited your color.

I’m struggling, and there’s no one to support me. But I don’t need help from anybody. I inherited your stubbornness.

The world thinks I’m not good enough. I should cower beneath them. I stand my ground. I inherited your strength.

My pronunciations makes it difficult for people to understand me. I inherited your dialect.

I surround myself with friends and family. My heart warms when I’m near them. I inherited your love.

I fill their heads with lies, but I’m so good at lying that they believe me anyway. I inherited your dishonesty.

I can’t change who I am, but I can change the way I think. I inherited your anger, your stubbornness, your dialect, and your dishonesty. But I also inherited your color,

your strength, and your love. I love the person I am, it just took time for me to change the way I felt.

Anali Mendoza, Zion Benton Township High School, NOTE: Earned honorable mention in 8th Annual

Tenth Dems Poetry & Prose Contest in 2018

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“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -I took the road less traveled by”... *

That was the road that I was unraveled by.The journey was harder and it made me cry.

When I think on it, by and by,and I think on my choices one and all,did I really have a choice at all?

What is free will?The brain can be changed by a pill.“Two roads diverged and I”...saw that my brain was different on the MRI.

And IF my brain was not different on the MRI,Would I have taken the road less traveled by?

Anya Stefany, Waukegan High School,

* excerpt of “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost

Two roads and the MRI.

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Intro Starting off with life My mom stabbed me in the back with a knifewarmthIt was ET TU BRUTE When she pushed my father away I missed my father Too bad I had no lawyer But instead, I was stuck in the foyerListening to something about God that I didn’t understandBut it was my mother I couldn’t stand I can’t keep throwing my heart into no man’s land Waiting for it to explodeOr maybe even implode `Until God gave me the code.

Verse 2Success was made My father’s house is where I finally laid.I thought I had it made Until it started to fade He got laid He made his girl take care Of me but I couldn’t compareThe tareMaybe a flare In my heart That was one part That destroyed my heart Verse 3Back in my house with my mom’s house Was feeling pretty angry And frankly AmberWas feeling like an ember Annoyed by burnBut I started to earn

Life 3:17

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So I went to turn To the feet of God I was in a pod Maybe frood Then it came to me When my mom decided to flee

Verse 4Then god gave me a family That couldn’t have been better He forgave me for my debtors Trying to hold in emotionsFilling up oceansI try to keep my devotionsBut sometimes I just go through the motionI met people that show they careBut I wouldn’t dare

To tear Into others’s hearts It’s like we’re playing darts Its like were playing with parts From a car Or that junky barLike god said I had to turn the cheekI fell to the feet of GodHe gave me a nod He showed me Who I was supposed to be And now I see The code he gave Was a name And the NAME WAS 3:17

Kaleb Soderberg, Zion Benton Township High School

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9

I often find myself in the rain,

choking on fog, and gagging on pain.

waiting for my time to come.

I’m stuck in a corner, wondering why I’m here.

I could be free, but I’m stuck feeling nothing but fear,

waiting for my time to come.

Breathing in used breath, and all my regrets.

Is it time for my death or to end all frets?

Waiting for my time to come.

I often find myself looking through this tiny window

Wondering why I did what I did, but I know.

Waiting for my time to come.

I’ve been scratching these walls for quite some time

With no bail. I have no money. Not even a dime.

Waiting for my time to come.

It isn’t right..

Having to go through this every night.

Waiting for my time to come.

I often find myself staining my skin, chains made of brass.

“Just keep your head high,” mama said, let time pass.

Waiting for my time to come.

Just waiting for my time to come

Kamaria Cambridge, North Chicago High School

Insane

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10

Fruitless Sin

Agony paints the face of nebulous nights,awaiting the joy that abandons my plights.I stand before the throne of destruction,faulting at the hand of seduction.Like a splinter in my sea,I gaze upon the unraveling destiny,that sows the seed of repentance in thee,and hangs like a ripened fig on a tree.

Sinking into defeat,a man’s desire floods the soul.The fruit that is forbidden to eat,Is broken in pieces and the inner desire unfolds.Heaven’s only wish for mankind,was for Eve to be free from the chains of ignorance at night –Sensually dancing with the serpent to fulfill her hunger and reach a peace of mind.

A love strong enough to fulfill the yearn for eternal life.

Crimson lips – bright, passion filled, succulent to the bite and savory in taste.You leave those who taste marinating in color and pondering – How can a figure take everything away from me, and lead me to sin?

Katrina Padilla, Cristo Rey St. Martin College Prep

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Time of Day

If you had to choose,What would you say is the best time of day?

Is it 11 AM? Is it 4 PM? Is it right as the clock strikes at 12 at midnight?Is it when birds sing, call, and crowIs it when the sun rises, the sky bathing in oncoming warmth?

When it’s high above the treetops, houses, and peopleBegging to soak your skin?Is it when it falls like a ball of fire, cascading the sky in an array of colors?Is it when the bees buzz from flower to flower, Bimbling along in the wind without care?Or perhaps when the dew is beneath your feet in the midmorning hours, or when the stars shine, Maybe even a meteor shower.

When the flowers open up, exposing themselves, or when the lights turn on up and down. Is it when the streets are flooded with people or when there is not a whisper to be heard?When the sun warms your skin or when you bask in the moon?

I don’t believe I could choose my favorite time of day,

There’s something to love about every hour in every sort of way.

Jennifer Mendoza, Waukegan High School

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12

I Did it All for You

Age 7

March 21

Dear diary, today I think dad was extra scary. He didn’t do anything. That’s what’s scary. The nothingness, the quiet. I walk on eggshells around him. I’ve figured out how to stay busy in my room to not bother him. But today I got too loud. I could tell because of his heavy steps, I heard them creep closer to my door. Fear crept up my spine. Goosebumps. I didn’t want to get yelled at. I’m having a tough time with bullies at school, I didn’t want to cry. So I got real quiet and waited. He opened my door and just looked at me. I didn’t want to look at him. I put my head down. Silence, he didn’t say anything. He has that power. Dad is scary.

March 27

Dear diary, having a little sister is hard. She makes me laugh hard and she cries too easily. This is bad. She blows my cover. Mom and dad say I have to watch over her, she’s my responsibility when they’re busy. I hate this. I get double the fault. With her around, dad is even more agitated. Short explosions of anger. It scares me. Today we were playing tag. It was fun. The fun ended. He grabbed my arm extra hard. I know this means bad news. He yanked me to my room, pushed me in and slammed the door close. I knew not to open the door until I heard the clacking of the keyboard stop. For hours all I heard was clack clack clack, sometimes I heard the keys being slammed. I held my breath in these moments. These sounds make me panic. Does everyone feel like this? I think keyboards are kinda scary. They make my dad mad at me. I don’t like it when dad gets mad.

April 2

Dear diary, I’ve trained myself to not cry. Crying makes dad angry. He doesn’t like sounds when he’s working. I don’t like making him stressed, he always seems busy and tired. Sometimes I don’t see him till night. Sometimes he doesn’t leave the house. Today he was at home. Today he brought me to school. I don’t like that. He’s even scarier when in a car. He gets so angry, so angry he yells and goes faster. I always hear dad and mom going back and forth on who’s going to take me to school. I hate it when he gets me. I always know to be extra careful these mornings. I have to do everything quickly before I see his face change. I don’t like seeing that face. That face scares me so much. I hate it. I go quick so I can avoid that face. I don’t like car rides with him. I don’t know what I did to get him made today but I saw that face. It was in the car. I hate cars. I wanted to cry because he’s scary. I don’t like how he looks at me. I pinched myself hard. When I do this, I figured out that the pain destroys the tears. Sometimes I hurt myself before he can.

continued on next page

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April 17

Dear Diary, today dad was so fun. Dad was happy today. He gave me a ride. I love it when he spins me around. He took me to the store and let me get a new shirt. This time the car was filled with music. I love dad’s music. He dances funny in the car and sings. This makes me laugh. I think today he finally finished his school. Dad was always busy because of it. He never had time to take me to the park and hangout. I hope dad will take me now. I missed him.

Age 10

May 4

Dear diary, dad and I went shopping. Too bad my sister came with us. She always makes him mad. She’s so noisy and runs around a lot. I have to watch dad to see if he’s getting mad. I’m getting pretty good at reading his mood now. I prevent him from blowing up. At the mall me and her got really bored. Dad takes too long looking at undies. I like swinging on the racks. Dad calls me monkey sometimes. My copycat sister was also doing it. She always starts trouble. Dad told us to stop. We did, but it was soo fun we kept swinging. Of course she swung too hard and pulled the whole freaking rack down. I knew what was next. Dad yanked me up and quietly told me to stop. His eyes looked like death. He was quiet but I knew he wanted to yell loudly. He also grabbed my sister and he took us to sit under a bunch of clothes. The clothes made it easier to cry and not bother him. My dumb sister fell asleep. I hate my sister.

May 6

Dear diary, mom and dad keep talking about bills. They look sad when they talk about it. I think that’s why they get mad when I ask for things. I want to help them. Starting today I won’t ask for anything. Unless it’s for field trips. I love field trips. I am going to be a good kid so they don’t have to worry more. I will become a good student. Sometimes I tell dad about the bullies. He doesn’t help me. He makes me feel dumb about it. This is sad. Maybe I won’t tell him anymore. Dad’s a bully.

July 5

Dear diary, I have terrible news. Mom and dad said we’re moving. I hate this. I think dad is just jealous of the house. The pretty house always makes me happier than him. She is warm and doesn’t yell at me. The house is so big and amazing. I love her big yard and pretty orange walls. She hides me from dad when he’s mad. She protects me. I don’t want to leave her side. Mom said we’re gonna see a few homes before choosing one. I bet none are gonna be as pretty as the one we have right now. Also, I have a counselor now.

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The school said I needed one. The lady is nice. She gives me cookies. Sometimes we draw together and she asks me questions. The questions are boring. Sometimes my answers make her sad. When she’s sad she gives me more cookies. She takes me away from math. I hate math. If we’re going to move I hope the new school will have less bullies and a cool counselor lady too.

Age 14

October 23

Dear diary, I’m tired. I have no friends. I can’t tell my dad or my mom about the bullies. They seem so sad all the time. I don’t want them to worry. Dad doesn’t yell at me that much anymore. The doctor gave him pills for anxiety. Maybe I have that too. I’m scared I’m turning into him. Yesterday I yelled at my sister. She started crying. I hated how I felt after. Maybe dad hates himself. I still use my technique to not cry. I would hate to cry in front of them, they would laugh at me and never leave me alone. They call me monkey. Just because I’m hairy. I hate my arms and legs. I’m so ugly. Some of my friends cut themselves. They say it feels good. Sometimes when I’m really sad I secretly use the nail file to scrap my skin. I can’t cut my skin open. I’m scared of the blood. Plus it’s harder to hide. I feel like a fraud. I can’t even cut myself the right way. I’m a failure.

Age 17

July 14

Dear diary, sometimes I look back on you. It’s scary to see the build up of my depression, anxiety, and self hatred. It was so hard to take my feelings as valid when my dad or mom never really abused me. My dad’s anxiety and depression, his mood swings, his eyes; these are what abused me. I was shaped around him. Growing up I changed my actions and restrained myself constantly as to not make him angry or more stressed. I lived to please him. At the same time, I grew resentful and bitter. Bitter because he always took it out on me. Resentful of my sister. In my mind she was the cause of his stress and outbursts. He blamed me for her actions. As a kid, no one should have to grow up walking on eggshells or hating their sibling. Later on as I grew older, crying was a constant in my life. I grew anxious about everything. I judged myself the hardest and pushed myself too far at times. Panic attacks plagued me. I got into self harm because I disappointed myself. I was always doing good in school but that wasn’t enough for me. I grew to hate everything I did, good or bad. My best didn’t cut it for me. I always had to be better than everyone else. If not, I held no value. I fought myself constantly. I was in denial about my own mental health for the longest. At the same time I also saw dad as a constant reminder of my failures. I saw myself in him and I hated it. I still find it sorta hard to talk to him. But we get along now. He’s really funny and goofy. I always liked that part of him. When he wasn’t in a bad mood he was so charismatic and cool. The big picture though was that I hated my dad but I also hated me.

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I always wanted to ask dad if he remembers how he used to treat me and these bad

moments we had.

“Dad?”

“...”

“Do you remember yelling at me a lot as a kid?”

“...”

“Were you ever aware of what your emotions or lack thereof ever caused me?” my voice started wavering. I continued to hear no response.

“As a kid I feared you,” I was beginning to get louder, “I hated being in the same room as you, your faults became mine as I grew up around you.”

“...”

“I hate you, I hate what you did to me!” I was shouting at the top of my lungs, “I couldn’t hate all of because you were also a good man,” tears ran off my face, I couldn’t see anything anymore, “I still loved you, I always wanted to just help”

“...”

“Why didn’t you let me help you! I just want you back…” my voice trailed off.

It’s been a few months since my dad passed. I never got the chance to talk to him about our rocky past. We both moved past it, never mentioning the foundation under which we both evolved from. It was easier to stay silent rather than uncover old wounds.

Alex Molina, Waukegan High School

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16

The Successor

I came into the kitchen grabbing breakfast before school. Ma stood there, shoulder on the doorframe and hand on her hip. “When you gon’ get that D up in Math?”

Silence. I barely studied for today’s math test. “When you gon’ realize you ain’t I’ nowhere going this route?”

I headed to the door, kissing my fingers and tapping Reice’s picture on the fridge. He was standing in front of his store smiling.

“Reice would buss you upside yo head if he could,” Ma said as she watched me .

“Reice is gone,” I whispered as I walked out.

*

I walked into Reice’s Puff and was hit by the smell of cigarette smoke and car fresheners. I grabbed some chips as Shaun smirked at me,”Do you eat anything else?”

“Nope,” I said.

Shaun took over the store after Reice died. He’s always had this rugged, welcoming look. His buzz cut was clean, and I knew he’d recently gotten his beard trimmed. “When you gon’ tell me who your barber is?” I said.

“Yo mama said no haircut with that D. So I can’t say. How you damn near failing Math?”

I groaned and rolled my eyes.

“Reice would’ve made it happen, no matter what.”

“I’m not Reice.” I said.

“One thing y’all shared was ya’ll honesty. Just because he ain’t here don’t mean you go off the rails. You gotta take care of yo mama.”

I smacked my lips. ”This ain’t fair.”

“Well life ain’t fair. Now go to school,” he said, gesturing to the door.

*

By second period I was nervous. I skimmed over the review guide and I realized I barely knew the material. I was beginning to panic when my phone buzzed.

Ahyanna: Here’s the answers to the Math test. I KNOW YOU I DO THE REVIEW!

I saved the text and headed to Math.

Once class started, we got our tests. I had a 68.83%. An online grade calculator told me that an 80 would raise my grade to a C-.

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My body stiffened as I read through the questions. My mind: blank. I looked towards the teacher’s desk. Her eyes were glued to her computer. I eased my phone out of my pocket.

But then...Reice’s cheeky grin popped into my head. I remembered what Shaun said. We were both honest men. If I cheated, what connection would I have left to Reice? I slid my phone back into my pocket.

*

For the rest of the day I couldn’t focus as I waited for the results. Finally, my phone dinged. My heart raced as I tapped on the notification. I got a 73%. My grade went up to just a 68.97. I turned my phone over and groaned, running my hand over my face.

*

Mama was sitting at the table when I got home. Her eyebrow lifted. ”What’d you get on that test?”

“78,” I said, looking at my feet.

“A 78? What’s your grade now ?”

“I’m still at a D.”

Mama sighed as she rose from her seat.

I looked up at her and smiled. “I’ll do better next time.”

“You have to give it all you’ve got. Like Reice.” She said, and watched as I left the kitchen.

I went into my room, checking my phone.

Ahyanna: What’d you get?

Me: 78.

Ahyanna: But I sent the answers...

Me: I I use them.

Ahyanna: Would’ve been an easy A.

Me: I I want an easy A.

I got up, locking my phone and leaving it face down on the bed. Then I sat at my desk, and opened my Math textbook.

Aja Myers, Zion Benton Township High School

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Warmth

I wrap my arms across my chest tighter. With every step, the cold, biting wind threatens to blow me off the sidewalk. The looming clouds stare down at me, and the air is thick with smog.

Perhaps I imagine it all. The wind, the cold, the clouds, the air. The lingering eyes of passers-by before they run across the street to their cars and thank God they have better fates. They see a man whose narrowed eyes hold gloomy desperation. I see myself in each passing storefront window. My hair falls limp over my shoulders. My beard is full. My plaid shirt has become brown at the seams.

Fate is a funny thing. Bet God controls it with a smug smile on his face.

I keep moving, somehow finding enough courage to take the next step. My stomach rumbles. I need money. There’s no denying it. Maybe I can get more food after the meeting.

It usually takes me about thirty minutes to walk to the church. I dread every second of it tonight. The streets are lined with coffee shops, book shops, restaurants, and offices, and their lights are blinding. I see people eating, reading, talking, and families laughing. They look beautiful, and they seem to float without a care for the rest of the world. Oddly, they seem ... warm.

Suddenly, my legs trip over an empty pepsi bottle. My body plunges onto the frigid sidewalk. My backpack digs into my spine. I plant my wobbly hands on the ground as I try to push myself upward. It works.

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I look up and see a child staring down at me. His blonde hair gleams in the street light. There’s a certain sense of innocence conveyed in his hazel eyes that makes me ashamed of everything I am. He tugs at a man I assume is his father. The man’s eyes bore a discomforting hole in me. He drags his son away. The boy whispers something. I hear the man reply, “No. He’ll use it for drugs. Don’t ever talk to people like that.” He walks hurriedly to his car and drives off.

The next two blocks I walk in silence through the wind and cold. The numbness is the worst. I think I should have gotten used to these comments. The “he’s a junkie,” “he’s dirty,” “he probably deserves it.” Each weighs me down. Each sounds like a punishment I deserve, and they stick to me like a cancerous tumor, eating me slowly no matter how hard I try to shake them off.

As I approach the church, I contemplate turning back. However, Jerry, whose huge brown jacket hangs over his shoulders, opens the door to step outside, and I feel compelled to enter. I see the other guys scattered around the small room. There’s Bill, whose hands move wildly to accentuate what he’s saying to Larry, whose wife sent him packing two months ago. There’s Frank, who has ridden the roller coaster of sobriety three times. His calloused palm scratches mine as he shakes my hand and tells me again about his lovely daughter. There’s Harry who leads the A.A. meetings and has been sober for ten years. He’s only forty, but his words and his clean appearance testify a better future for us all.

The table at the corner is filled with chocolate chip cookies that the men crowd over. I remember that it’s the end of another month that we’re sober.

I think of how vicious the cold outside is, but everyone chose to attend the meeting. I’m warm, for now.

Toluwanimi Akinlade, Grade 11, Zion Benton Township High SchoolNOTE: Earned honorable mention in 8th Annual

Tenth Dems Poetry & Prose Contest in 2018

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Intertwined“Alec!” She screams as she reaches out for his hand. His hand slips, and he falls down into the raging

water. She dials 911. The sirens heard throughout the city. They found his body, and he was pronounced dead by the paramedics at the scene.

Her legs give out, and she falls to the ground. “It’s my fault.” She repeats to herself. An officer gives her a ride home. “Ailynn?” Without looking who it was, she latches herself onto him. He leads her to the living room.

“My heart can’t take it anymore.” She sobs into his arms. He hugs her tighter. The sounds of her cries echo through the room. The room is dark and cold. They sit on the floor in the middle of the living room.

The night passes filled with sorrow. The light brimming on her eyes, she wakes up. With heavy eyelids, she slowly blinks. Her head was pounding. She sat up as she took in her surroundings. Confused as she believed someone was with her yesterday.

Her phone vibrated against the wooden floor. “Hello?” She answered. “Where are you?” She pulls the phone from her face. “Genesis.” Her phone read.

“Hello? Are you coming or not?”The annoyance dripped through her voice.“To where?”

“The conference. It starts in 15 minutes.”She scoffed.“Come if you want.” The line went silent. With a sudden realization, she hurries to get ready. Running through her apartment, she stumbles on her own feet.

While on the ground she sees a rose petal under her couch. “When did I get roses?” She thought aloud. Snapping out of her thoughts, she bolts out of her apartment.

“I’m here.” She rushes into the conference room. With looks of disapproval, she takes her seat. “It took you awhile.” Her coworker chuckles. “Yeah.” She looks down in embarrassment. The room became silent when the CEO came in.

The conference was dismissed. “Ailynn, you’re in charge of the fundraiser.” The CEO told her as he left. “Ailynn, don’t forget about doing the weekly report too.” Her coworker, Elsie patted her back. “Elsie, isn’t that your job?” Alec asked her. “She won’t mind.” She waved at them as she walked off.

“You have a choice to say no.” He told her. “I know.” She mumbled as she walked off. Her day piling up with work to do through the entire week. Project after project piling up on her schedule.

She was walking home with a stack of paperwork in her hands. Her mind drifted off to the

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remaining memory of yesterday night. Passing a local coffee shop, she makes eye contact with a man sitting by the window.

Instantly, filled with déjà vu, she turns around to go inside. She swore he seemed familiar. “Are you ready to order?” The waitress snaps her out of her trance. “Just a coffee please.” The waitress writes it down and leaves.

She looks back to where the man was sitting, but he wasn’t there anymore. She scanned the room looking for him. He disappeared as if he was a ghost.

She takes her coffee to go. In her apartment, she couldn’t shake off this ominous feeling she was getting. It was 11 AM when she finally finished signing and scanning through all the paperwork. Getting ready for bed, she felt her phone vibrate in her hand. She received a message from an unknown number. “Get ready.” It read.

Small goosebumps formed on her arms. She was thinking of whether blocking the number or not. Even small choices made her mind go blank. All these small possibilities came into mind.

Without another thought, she ignored it and went to sleep. Leaving the phone number unblocked.

“Run!” A guy with silver hair screamed at her. A black cloud engulfs him. She stood there paralyzed with fear. A menacing laugh sends shivers down her spine. “Aren’t you going to run?” A deep raspy voice asked her. Her eyes go wide as she finally snaps out of trance.

She runs down the empty road screaming out for help. The road seemed never-ending and the scenery never changed. The black cloud rapidly catches up to her.

Finally, the cloud catches up to her. She reaches out her arms trying to escape the clouds grasp on her.

Ailynn woke up panting hard. Her forehead was dripping with sweat. “It was only a dream.” She covers her face with her hands. No longer needing to sleep, she goes out for a glass of water.

As she turns around, she sees the man from her dreams standing right by the window looking out. His soft delicate features resemble that of an angel. He turns to her. “Are you really living?” He asks her.

She rubs her eyes. Once she opens them, again, he’s gone. A shiver ran down her spine. Still thinking she’s dreaming she goes back to sleep.

A week later, she found herself barely sleeping at all. She was engulfed with a lot of workloads left by everyone. The eye bags under her eyes and her eyes dangerously red. “Are you okay?” Alec comes up to her.

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“Yes.” She yawned. “Stop accepting this ridiculous amount of work.” He reaches out to grab some of the paperwork she was holding. “I’ll be fine.” She replies stoically. Alec rolls his eyes as he walks away.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Pulling out her phone, she answers. “Hello?” She speaks. “Aylinn, you should go back for your graduate degree.” Her mom’s voice comes through the other line. “Okay.” She sighs. “Don’t worry! I’ll pay.” With that being said, her mother hangs up on her.

She gathers her things from her office and heads home. As she walked,, she couldn’t shake the feeling of someone watching her. Every time she turned around there was nothing.

Just as she was passing an alleyway, she was yanked back by someone. “Let me go!” She struggled. Her mouth was covered by a white cloth. Her vision slowly became blurry. A tear rolls down her cheek.

Right before her eyes close, she sees the mysterious boy appear. Later that night, she woke up at her apartment. “Was I dreaming?” She whispers to herself.

“I should go to the doctor.” She thinks to herself. “Don’t you understand life is precious?” A voice rang in her mind. She jumps as she hears the voice in her head. “Hello?” She said out loud. She looks down at her feet and sees rose petals scattered everywhere.

Week after week she kept getting these weird dreams, and she kept seeing rose petals scattered. In one of her dreams, she had to choose between her mom and dad. In another, she was drowning with chains dragging her down. The main thing she kept getting confused about was that she swore she saw the silver-haired man in her dreams and in person.

It was late at night when she heard her window crash. She jumps from her bed and locks her bedroom door. There were creaks heard from the hallway. It went silent for a few moments. Next thing there was banging at the door. She dashed and hid in her closet.

“Please let this be a dream.” She prayed silently. With a loud bang, her door flew open. She heard the footsteps getting closer to her. She readied herself to run as soon as the closet door was opened.

Another loud crash was heard from the window. She covered her mouth to silent her breathing. Tears were on the verge of falling. “Get out.” She heard a calm voice say.

“No.” The vivid dream of the dark cloud’s voice went through her head. She opened the door slightly, and she saw two men standing face to face. One she recognized as the silver-haired guy and the other from the coffee shop.

They lunged at each other. Each throwing punches and kicks. Suddenly, the guy from the coffee shop turns into a dark cloud. Her eyes widened as she realized the dreams she was having were real.

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The silver-haired guy made eye contact with her. His eyes widened. She opened the door slightly, and she saw two men standing face to face.

Once the white cloud dispersed, her mouth opened in awe. She was standing on clouds outside of a golden gate. There was a large white castle about a mile away. “Am I dead?” She turns to him. “No.” He starts walking.

“What’s going on?” She follows right behind him. “They’re trying to take over your body.”

“Who is? Why me?”She asks.“Your spirit is weak which means it’s easier for demons to take over your soul.”He turns to look at her.“How is my spirit weak?”She asks, offended.“You live your life based on what you’re told, you never say no, and when have you ever done something you enjoyed?”She looks down as she stays silent.

“Were the dreams real?” She looked up at him. “Some were but some weren’t. I was able to turn things around and make it a dream.”He simply said.

“We’re here.” He stops at the front gate of the castle. “Why are we here?” Aylinn looks around. “To strike a deal to save your life.” He sighs.

The doors open and she walks in following behind. “We’re here to strike a deal!” His voice echoes throughout the castle. “Who are you talking to?” Suddenly, a white light appears at the top of the stairs. As it descended a male figure started to form.

“Aylinn.” It called out. “Come closer.” He reached out his hands. With shaky breaths, she goes to him. “I’ll let you live. You can live a peaceful perfect life here without imperfections or you can live your current life creating your future.”He told her.

“Everyone would choose one, though.” She said. “Yes, but imperfections build our character.” The man responded back to her. “I choose the imperfect.” She gulped as she prayed she chose the right choice.

“Good call.” The silvered hair guy told her, smiling slightly. “Life is built on choices, but choices depend on us.” The man started fading as she started to glow.

He soon disappeared. Aylinn turned to the silver-haired guy. “Your name?” She asked him. “I don’t have a name.” He responded. “How come?” She asked. “I’m your soul. We’re intertwined with one another and so is your demon.”

A bright light blinded her. She woke up to the sound of her alarm. She sat up looking around. Everything seemed to be back to normal. She looked towards the direction of her closet. Rose petals were on the ground.

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With a smile, she got ready for work. Walking in her coworker, Genesis walks up to her. “Do the summary report.” She hands her the graphs. “Genesis. It’s your job, not mine.” Aylinn hands back the graphs.

Walking away Alec comes up to her. “Finally!” He applauds. Aylinn laughs slightly. Throughout the day, she stood her ground.

Her phone rings. “I chose the best school for you!” Her mom says. “Mom. I don’t want to go to graduate school. I’m going to follow my dream and create a fashion line.”The line goes silent.

“Okay.” Her mother finally responds. Happily, she walks up to her boss’s office. “I’m quitting.” She hands over her id and keyboard. “The work I finished is on my old desk.”

As she walks out, she catches a quick glimpse of the silver-haired guy. Smiling to herself, she heads home. “From now on I will make my future.” She promises to herself. Her phone vibrated in her hand. Another message from the unknown number. “I’m proud. Goodbye.”She read out loud.

With a small smile, she deletes the number. Years later, she published her book about her story. Even though it was labeled as fantasy, only she knew the truth behind it. Every now and then she would catch a glimpse of him and she knew the rose petals left were from him too.

One time, the guy from the coffee shop appeared to her. “So you really came back?” He asked her. “Why wouldn’t I?” She responded. “Why stay here when there’s a perfect world already created for you?”

“I guess you can say I realized the importance of our choices.” She smiled. After that small interaction, she never saw him again.

The beautiful thing about life is that we choose how to live it out. It’s our life and nobody gets to live it for you.

Anahi Infante, Cristo Rey St. Martin College Prep School

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The Snails Decision

On a warm rainy night, a small but fearless garden snail moved throughout the garden. The snail was desperately looking for food after waking up from a long goodnight’s rest. Tall green grass was seen everywhere followed by sudden splashes of water falling from the sky. “If only I was faster, I would move through this maze in no time”, complained the snail as he barely moved an inch. The snail kept moving inches at a time. The snail began to lose hope after being lost in grass. “I really want a cucumber, I would never feast on one if I don’t try harder”, thought the snail. Trying harder is what the snail did. The snail refused to eat grass because the snail believed quitters always fail at anything. A winner will do whatever it takes even if it means risking your own life. “If I believe hard enough that I will get a cucumber I will”, thought the snail as the grass came to an end.

The snail saw a wet concrete stairway. Then the snail had an idea. “I will go higher and maybe I might see where the vegetables could be”, said the snail in a confident tone. Just as the snail was slowly approaching the stairs, the ground shook aggressively followed by repeatedly loud thuds. The snail full of fear and confusion looked around and saw the Beast roaming the area. “If I leave the grassy forest I could be spotted and killed. The Beast is believed to be the cause of all the missing snails, but what if it’s a hoax. I could be seeing things because of my hunger. I will go because that’s just a myth, maybe it’s a cloud”, concluded the snail.

Time passed by until the snail had finally reached the top. To the snail’s surprise, the snail spotted tomatoes and cucumbers just across the garden but was too distracted to realize the Beast was still nearby. “It will take me ages to get to the garde but I must. NOTHING WILL STOP ME!”, the snail exclaimed. Going back down the steps and back into the grass maze. Ages went by and the snail had to move faster. The snail aggressively moved as fast as the snail could. The ground shook again followed by loud thuds but the snail ignored the warnings. The snail repeated in its head, “Nothing will stop me, nothing will stop me. I will feast on those vegetables”. Out of nowhere a huge wall appeared literally all of a sudden nearly crushing the snail but the snail kept going towards the garden.

Atlast the snail entered the garden. Fresh tomatoes and cucumbers were above the snail. The snail decided to go to the tomato plant instead. The snail escalated up the plant towards the tomato thinking everything was going to go well just like before. Little did the snail know, luck was no longer on the snail’s side. The snail got on a leaf and was heading towards the fresh and juicy looking tomato as water droplets still fell from the sky making the scene an emotional reunion.

“Oh hi there little sssnail” was heard that caught the snail’s attention. “Up here, want me to show you sssomething” was heard again. The snail glanced up to see a Garter snake. “I won’t hurt you, I’m your friend”, said the snake in a creepy tone. “Go away”, yelled the snail. The snake got closer and closer towards the snail. “Everything is going to be fine”, said the snake. The snail warned the snake to back off or he will fight back. The snail went on casually but the snake got closer and closer until the snake ATTACKED. The poor snail was caught in the snake’s mouth as the snake slowly gulped him whole. Only thing that remained was the snails empty shell.

Silvano Guerrero, Waukegan High School

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New Desires

My feet slam against the pavement. My lungs burned, inhaling oxygen faster than my blood can transport it to my organs and back around. I needed to get there. I needed to make it. She wouldn’t let me live it down if I was late. It’s the first one.

My legs pumped harder, rounding corners and through red lights. Beads of sweat began to trail down my forehead faster now.

I stopped running.

What was the point? All for something she wanted? But would it matter in the end when they came for us? Would it matter that I know that she wouldn’t do the same for me. Why am I running so hard to save her when she wouldn’t even look for me.

I gazed at the direction I knew she was in. My head turned, slowly as I drifted between her and the sidewalk below me. I don’t know what to do. Do I save her? It’s the right thing to do, and I know that. Why do we try to save such bad people? Why is it that I can’t seem to stop walking to where she is?

I forced my feet to stop moving, and took the time to think. Suddenly, I felt heavy and I collapsed. The cold cement beneath me seemed to ease the ache in my legs.

I’m not going after her.

I pulled myself off the ground and walked into the gas station across from me. The water I bought felt refreshing as it flowed down my throat. The burning in my lungs slowly faded and the breath that I couldn’t catch found it’s way back to me.

I was done trying to save her. Now I’m gonna save myself.

Dre Batie, North Chicago High School

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Meet the 2020 Judges2020 POETRY JUDGES

Lois Baer Barr, who led our panel of poetry judges, was born in Louisville, Kentucky. She is sheltering in place in Riverwoods with her husband and, soon, a new puppy. Her fiction and poetry have been published in Spanish and in English in many journals, webzines and anthologies as well as two chapbooks. She likes to write, bike, hike and study flamenco.

Luisa Espinosa-Lara, one of our poetry judges, was born in Bogota, Colombia. She moved to the United States in 2000 and lives in Highland Park with her husband and two sons. She earned a Masters Degree in Liberal Studies with a concentration in Spanish from Lake Forest College. Currently, she works for North Shore School District 112 as a Family Engagement Specialist for Title I schools, supporting predominantly

Latino families.

MJ Gabrielsen, who again served as one of our poetry judges, is a writer and an editor for East on Central Journal in Highland Park, IL. Her poetry chapbook, Watching Earth, was included in the 27th Annual Poets House Showcase in New York City in 2019.

2020 PROSE JUDGES

Jacqueline Nicole Harris, who led our panel of prose judges, is a writer and self published author from North Chicago. Her book, ON LIFE, won the E-book best poetry award from the BCALA in 2017. She is an author of short genre fiction and is currently working on her first novel. Jacqueline works a regular 9 to 5 and gives back to her

community with her time whenever she can.

Joseph Starks, who served as one of our prose judges this year, is a Columbia College Alum with a degree in Business and minor in English. Joseph was born and raised in Chicago. Having a love for both business and music while a student at DuSable High School, he was able to secure a scholarship to Columbia College. There he soaked up everything there was to learn about his two loves.

Nina Nicole Geater, who again served as one of our prose judges, is a poet and spoken word artist who lives in Waukegan. Nina has been writing and performing since grade school. She has recently started a program for youth called My Write to Speak, which empowers young women through poetry and public speaking.

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WINNERS

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ZOOM-PICS

3030

ZOOM-PICS

3131

ZOOM-PICS

3232

ZOOM-CHATS

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ZOOM-CHATS

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ZOOM-CHATS

Paid for by the Illinois Tenth Congressional District Democrats (www.tenthdems.org).