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Dedication Page
I would like to dedicate this second issue of The Mountain View to all the students who submitted poems, short stories, essays, and artwork to the magazine this year, and also the teachers who submitted work on behalf of their students. Thank you to all of you; without you there would be no literary magazine.
I would also like to thank Mr. David Redmond for again helping me to get the magazine formatted amid a hectic baseball state tournament season. I appreciate all his hard work on this project and the time he took out of his busy schedule to help with it. I would like to thank Macie Bowman and Whitley Patton, two of my seniors, for designing this year’s cover for me. Thanks girls, you did a great job! Also, thank you to Carolyn Qualls for helping with some of the organization of articles, etc. Your help was greatly appreciated. And I would like to give an especially big thank you to Dr. Cheryl Thomasson for printing the magazine for me this year. I really appreciate her doing that more than she will ever know.
My hope is that all who read our magazine will enjoy it and be inspired to write creatively for next years’ issue!!
Mrs. Jan Dunn
May 5, 2014
Table of Contents
POETRY
Title Author Page
My Hero………………………………………………………………………………………………….Sarah Beth Cantrell 1
The Templar…………………………………………………………………………………………….Matt Henry 2
Just Because…………………………………………………………………………………………….Tanessa Green 3
I Am………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Hunter Perdue 3
Poem……………………………………………………………………………………………………….Tricia Stevenson 4
Gone………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Katie Jackson 5
The Broken Heart……………………………………………………………………………………..Lexi McCulloch 6
They Expect Me to Be Perfect…………………………………………………………………..Maylene O’Donald 7
Basketball………………………………………………………………………………………………….Omar Romero 8
Unnamed………………………………………………………………………………………………….Raul Rodriguez 9
The Stranger……………………………………………………………………………………………..Gracie Craig 10
A Cloud……………………………………………………………………………………………………..Zach Crumley 11
Canterbury Tales……………………………………………………………………………………….Carolyn Qualls 12
Math…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Whitley Patton 13
The Stranger……………………………………………………………………………………………….Jacob Wells 14
Poem………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Kyler Evans 14
I Remember……………………………………………………………………………………………….McKenna Parks 14
The Teletubbies………………………………………………………………………………………….Taler Butler 15
Starr…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Brittany Green 16
Yourself……………………………………………………………………………………………………….Stacia Baker 16
Canterbury Tales Poem……………………………………………………………………………….Lucas Cochran 17
Life……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Jesse Begley 18
Dreams…………………………………………………………………………………………………………Tiffany Goss 18
There Was a Boy Who Caught My Bus………………………………………………………….anonymous 19
My Life’s So Easy…………………………………………………………………………………………..Clarissa Qualls 20
Sometimes I Wonder……………………………………………………………………………………Clarissa Qualls 21
Untitled…………………………………………………………………………………………………………Clarissa Qualls 22
Would You Rather………………………………………………………………………………………….Clarissa Qualls 23
Oh, What Makes a Man So Strong…………………………………………………………………anonymous 24
Tell Me How You Feel…………………………………………………………………………………..Carolyn Qualls 25
You Are Perfect……………………………………………………………………………………………..Carolyn Qualls 26
Untitled…………………………………………………………………………………………………………Carolyn Qualls 26
Death’s Warning……………………………………………………………………………………………Melissa Hickman 27
They………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Hannah Henry 28
Nostalgia Is a Beautiful Pain…………………………………………………………………………..Noah Hurst 30
Torn Apart……………………………………………………………………………………………………..Katie Jackson 31
Little Brother………………………………………………………………………………………………….Mary Jane Gutierrez 32
The Bird of Warning……………………………………………………………………………………….Preston Bartley 33
Doodle…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Andrea Munguia 34
The Signs of Death…………………………………………………………………………………………Katie Watkins 35
Doodle, That Is……………………………………………………………………………………………….Lexi McCulloch 36
Mourning Doodle…………………………………………………………………………………………..Tyler Bagget 37
Too Soon………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Sami Brown 38
On Trying to Write a Sonnet…………………………………………………………………………..Jan Dunn 39
Untitled………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Kaitlin Gober 40
Gone Too Soon……………………………………………………………………………………………….Jesus Rodriguez 41
A Hunter of Anything……………………………………………………………………………………..Rodney Ray 42
The Monster in My Locker………………………………………………………………………….Adrian Godfrey 43
A Nation’s Storm………………………………………………………………………………………..Maggie Dunn 44
PROSE
The Definition of Insanity……………………………………………………………………………Michael Lane 45
Silence………………………………………………………………………………………………………...Annsley Ingram 48
When the Time Was Right……………………………………………………………………………Kayleigh Jones 50
Creed…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Indiaetta Cook 52
My Best Friend…………………………………………………………………………………………….Breanna Wilson 53
An Hour………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Chase Cloer 54
Untitled………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Matt Henry 55
The Wolf Inside Me………………………………………………………………………………………Anna Parham 56
Which Door Next?..........................................................................................Avery Bishop 58
A Story………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Gracie Craig 60
The Day That Changed Me……………………………………………………………………………Emily Phillips 62
The Secret to Success……………………………………………………………………………………Oliver Nunez 63
Winslow………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Jacob Wells 64
The Keys…………………………………………………………………………………………………………Aiden Noe 66
The Soccer Boys………………………………………………………………………………………………Jose Rangel 70
The Story of the Templar……………………………………………………………………………….Matt Henry 70
Xavi………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Raul Rodriguez 71
The Stranger………………………………………………………………………………………………….Jacob Wells 71
The Rockers…………………………………………………………………………………………………..Levi Reynolds 72
The Little Boy Who Wanted to Be a Muscian…………………………………………………Jesus Herrada 72
ESSAYS
North Murray High School—Where and Why………………………………………………..Carter Bowers 73
What It Means to Be Southern………………………………………………………………………..Lillian Cloer 74
How It Came to Be……………………………………………………………………………………………Carter Bowers 75
GI Joes………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Carter Bowers 77
ARTWORK…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….pages 78-94
“My Hero”
My hero is my rock and fan
My hero is an amazing man
His love and laughter can fill a room
His words can cure my darkest gloom.
The lessons taught and time spent
Cannot be measured by a single cent
His love and belief in me
My hero he will always be.
The advice and values he gave
Are the one thing I will cherish and save
He is humble, kind, and grand
But the moments are falling like sand.
His love, smile, and eyes are what he gave me
More like I wish to be
The moments we have make me glad
This man is my hero, and my dad.
Sarah Beth Cantrell
“The Templar”
A Templar also rode, not walked upon his feet
He rode upon a horse who could march to a beat.
And his hair was black, as black as night.
The man who rode with him, he was a knight.
The helmet he wore had a disfiguring dent,
A blow from a lance is how it was bent.
Yet his spirit you could not dim
For he had a cheery name; it was Sir Zim.
The weapon he used was a mighty sword
That at the chapel was blessed by our Lord.
The sword was ugly compared to his shield
Yet the shield he would rarely wield,
For his skill with a blade was well renowned.
He would have millions if per match, he were given a penny.
Unfortunately, none could see his face
Because his cat was stuck there like a cat in a vase.
Matt Henry
“Just Because…”
Just because I’m an introvertDoesn’t mean I’m rudeDoesn’t mean I don’t listenAnd doesn’t mean I like loneliness.
Just because I’m strong like a rock on the outsideDoesn’t mean I don’t hurtDoesn’t mean I AM a rockDoesn’t mean I’m okay.
Just because I’m a musicianDoesn’t mean music is my passionDoesn’t I can play anythingDoesn’t mean I like to perform.
Just because I’m a little different,Does that make me rude?Does that make me emotionless?Is it okay to treat me differently?
No, I am human and I am the same theOnly difference is the introverted silence I sustain.
Tanessa Green
“I Am”
I am a map, very guiding, but like some travelers, I’m lost.I wonder if success will greet me if I pursue it, no matter the costI hear voices in each ear, like a good conscious and a badI see two futures sitting before me, but only one I wish I hadI want the best for myself and others, but often those wires get crossed-I am a map, very guiding, but like some travelers, I’m lost.
I pretend problems will probably fix themselves, although they never doI feel the greatest sense of urgency and I’m still not sure what to doI touch the hearts of others while hurriedly handcrafting my ownI worry about the countless people whose hearts beat all aloneI cry at the thought of others in pain, my eyes become pearls that seem glossedI am a map, very guiding, but like some travelers, I’m lost.
I understand that life waits for no one but I constantly wish it did.I say the most precious times in life are spent just being a kidI dream of a world rid of evil and harmI try to prove, to girls, that some boys still have charmI hope to live a life that I lead, one not bossedI am a map, very guiding, but like some travelers, I’m lost. –Hunter Perdue
“Poem”
The world is weak; the world is strong
This is okay because it’s where I belong.
Its location be sacred while open and vast
We live; we die, leaving earth to pass.
From beginning to end the cycle flows
Only to take us no one knows.
Kyler Evans
I remember that Friday nightIt was at the football gameWhere I knew my feelings were right.The way I acted around you was so lame.
A little birdie slipped how I felt about you,When I found out, I became so shy.But then you told me you liked me too,I became so happy I could cry.
Although you were sweet, I had my guard up,I was afraid to be hurt again.You were like a lovable pup,Before you, I was almost done with men.
Ever since then, you’ve been the bestWith such an awesome boyfriend, I’m truly blessed!
McKenna Parks
“Gone”
Although I love you,
I can proudly say
That I had the nerve
To stand and walk away.
You had me from the beginning,
From the very start.
You walked into my life
And took me by the heart.
I thought you actually loved me;
I thought you actually cared,
But now these thoughts are simply memories
And the pain I cannot bear.
I was told that you would never leave me—
Well, that was just a lie
Because one too many times
I watched you say goodbye.
Now as I think about it
I was only true
Then came the thought
I am glad I left you.
Katie Jackson
“The Broken Heart”
You ask me why I feel this way,But the truth is I fear each dayWithout you I’m a bitterus soul,But with you I’m just so cold.You are not good for me,But you’re the only boy I need.I’m scared you’ll get up and leave, But the truth is you have the key,The key to my heart.And when we are apart,All I can do is dream our love art.
Once again you ask me whyI feel this way.But it hurts me even when youCall me Babe.I know you’re gonna leave me,Why can’t you just see?
I love you more than evenI want to,Bur you never loved me and that’sMy clue.All I want is you to love meBut that will never be.
Lexi McCulloch
“They expect Me to Be Perfect”
They expect me to be perfect.They want my best attitude.They want me to have perfect grades,Perfect friends, perfect talents.
I’m only human.I’m not going to live up to everyone’sexpectations.My true loved ones accept me forwho I am.They don’t try to change me.
Can you tell me what’s so specialabout everyone I’m compared to?As far as I can see, they have just as many flaws.I’m starting my goodbyes to thepeople that want me to beperfect.I only need those in my lifethat love me for me,Not who they want me to be.
Maylene O’Donald
“Basketball”
Basketball will always be my favorite sport
There is no better feeling than being on the court
The sound of the ball going through the net is amazing
Watching the game, my eyes blinded with gazing—
Playing for North Murray, I will never forget
Every day I would practice and drop blood and sweat.
I wore the North Murray jersey with pride every day
All the memories I have had playing will never fade.
Buford was my last, most sad game
But the love of the sport will always remain.
Omar Romero
“UnNamed”
Along walk we had ahead
By my side was a boy named Ted
About age 10, still with a baby face
His shoes black with a torn lace
He had blue jeans and a shirt that was white
What was more impressive was his height
Though he was young, he was flirty
He said he liked his girls to be dirty.
He had the mentality of a grown teen
And his thoughts weren’t always very clean.
His days were spent being a perv
And smoking some green herb.
Raul Rodriguez
“The Stranger”
A strange man journeyed to Canterbury
His master warned him not to tarry.
He had a smile like the crescent moon
And his laughter was not unlike a loon.
With pale skin and gleaming cyan eyes,
He was oddly charming and seemed rather wise.
The way he spoke was odd as well;
He always had a quote or story to tell.
For each tale he asked for one in trade,
His lord thirsted for knowledge, and he obeyed.
On his back he had a sack to carry
Of its contents he warned we should be wary.
One night his fellow travelers bartered for
A tale to pass that night out on the moor.
As he spoke, his voice cast a spell
And drew them in where strange things dwell.
Gracie Craig
“A Cloud”
I wonder how it would be to be a cloud
Venturing out over seas and countries
Around the world speeding up and flying slow;
Some days dripping rain drops,
And some days no where to be found.
Traveling where the wind pushes me
Making the moon at night paint a prettier picture;
Changing the appearance of a day
Throwing light on the ground, hiding the sun…
Freedom is a cloud.
Zach Crumley
“Canterbury Tales”
There was a pilgrim, and from England he came
He loved adventure, a noble man, and Jeffre was his name.
He would go outside every day
To feed his beloved horse some hay.
He stood his own ground, and to no man would he kneel
If you dared disagree with him, without hesitation, he would kill.
His long beard fell to his chest
In his eyes, he saw that he was the best.
A fight broke out one dark day
These three young men left Jeffre with nothing to say. He surely had won all his battles before;
This time, though, he had surely lost the war.
Carolyn Qualls
Math
1 + 1= 2
But with us it was always you, me, and her
I always thought it was impossible to get a broken heart
But you proved that to be untrue as well
So with my broken heart and heavy thoughts
I decided to find a solution
Because that’s what life is
A combination of words and numbers
That could solve any problem I had ever been given
The solution was to get back at you
Because a negative and a negative cancel out
But it turns out life isn’t like the math problems
That I’m so good at.
Whitley Patton
“The Stranger”
He is called the Stranger
A man to avoid danger
A man with a kind soul
Was mortified when the bombs fell,
So he hid for many years in a hole.
His face was scarred
His hands callused and hard,
And his hair black and charred.
His body tall and strong
But his eyes wishing for the days of long ago.
He held a gun near his heart
For its protection brought him far
He walked in a slow pace
With no hast
For he knew that this trip would be his last,
And he may finally be reunited with the past.
Jacob Wells
“Poem”
The world is weak; the world is strong
This is okay because it’s where I belong.
Its location be sacred while open and vast
We live; we die, leaving earth to pass.
From beginning to end the cycle flows
Only to take us no one knows.
Kyler Evans
I remember that Friday nightIt was at the football gameWhere I knew my feelings were right.The way I acted around you was so lame.
A little birdie slipped how I felt about you,When I found out, I became so shy.But then you told me you liked me too,I became so happy I could cry.
Although you were sweet, I had my guard up,I was afraid to be hurt again.You were like a lovable pup,Before you, I was almost done with men.
Ever since then, you’ve been the bestWith such an awesome boyfriend, I’m truly blessed!
McKenna Parks
“The Teletubbies”
Over the hills and far away
The Teletubbies come out to play.
They run in circles while they each hold hands
Except one Teletubbie who has no friends
He sits in the corner and meets his doom
Tinky Winky gives him a shroom.
He puts it in his hand and gobbles it down
The lonely Teletubbie gives him a frown.
Tinky tries to help him up
But he falls back down.
They roll him over and poke him with a broom,
Never again will the Teletubbies eat any shrooms!
Taler Butler
There once was a girl named Starr
She and her father loved working on cars.
One day they ran out of parts
This is where their journey starts.
Down through the woods
They went to get the goods
They met a bear—
This bear had no hair.
Coincidentally, his name was Harry;
Don’t worry, he wasn’t scary.
Harry decided to tag along;
He needed a new ball for ping pong.
Brittany Green
“Yourself”
I would kiss you until you were happy again
And mend all your scars
All the scars on your skin
Make you exactly who you are
You have been through tough times
But you always learn a lesson.
The answers may be hard to find---
When you find the answer, it’s a blessing.
You are the person you are
Because of all your scars.
Stacia Baker
“Canterbury Tales Poem”
There are many people on this quest
But none the same as the rest.
There are knights who train during the day
There are also nuns who love to pray.
I’m just a pilgrim, trying to better myself
Also one trying to make it through this hell
Though I am a man of many names
I prefer to go by Shane.
When I first started this pilgrimage,
All I had to my name was some cabbage.
Now I am the leader of this trip—
With all this stress, God! I need a dip!!
Lucas Cochran
“Life”
Life has ups and downs,
It is crazy and makes you frown.
You have to be tough,
Or it’ll be rough.
I try to stay smart,
And not end up in a wooden cart.
Life can’t be written about,
It’s just too tough and stout.
Jesse Begley
“Dreams”
Day is over, night has come.
Today is gone, what’s done is done.
Embrace your dreams through the night,
Tomorrow comes with a whole new light.
Tiffany Goss
“There was a Boy Who Caught My Bus”
There is a boy who catches my busWith eyes as beautiful as the skyHe sits with his friends, laughs and jokesBut I’m sure he doesn’t know…I sit two seats behind him andI think he is beautiful.
There is a boy who catches my busHe wears long sleeves in the summer.He sits with his friends, and
Gives them half-smiles.I sit two seats behind him andI think he is beautiful.
There is a boy who catches my bus.He doesn’t laugh or smile.He sits with his friends and stares out the window.I sit two seats behind him andI think he is beautiful.
There was a boy who caught my bus.No one knew what he was going through.He took his own life.He left a note for his parents saying he loved them.He left a note to his friends saying he was sorry,And he left a note to the girlWho sat two seats behind him andTold her she was beautiful.
“My Life’s So Easy”
My life’s so easy now that you’re not in it.
Now that I know how you truly are
As I wish on that little star
Wishing that you will stay far
And never speak to me again.
As I stand out in the dark, stormy night
Weird figures appear in my sight,
But still I have no fright.
I think about all that you said,
Is it strange that bad thoughts are running through my head?
Maybe I should lie down in bed and pretend you are dead
Just forget anything like this ever happened.
I still lay back and think of that day,
But honestly, without you I’m not afraid.
But what I’m wondering is—
Will I meet you down below, or up above?
Clarissa Qualls
Sometimes I wonder about this pain.
What will stop the rain?
There’s nothing to say.
Will there ever be a sunny day?
Is this all in my head?
No…it’s true; my heart is dead.
People ask me why I always hurt,
But never say a word.
Nothing really matters.
I think my whole life is shattered.
I guess no one cares about me;
That’s how it seems to be.
There’s nothing that I need
Because truthfully—
Why does this world need me?
Clarissa Qualls
I always wondered why you seemed so sad
And why you seemed so mad
When I always tried to make you glad.
I don’t know what to do
Since I’m here without you.
I wish you were here
Not just your spirit to appear.
I wish you would have stayed in my arms
Completely unharmed.
All the things they said,
Like wishing you were dead
When it wasn’t true—
When I knew
The real you.
Now I know
You’re strong enough to let go.
Clarissa Qualls
Would you rather see me in the ground--
People standing all around
Wondering why I did what I did?
Now this is your choice;
Don’t ignore my voice.
I know you don’t care;
I know you’re really scared.
But guess what baby? I’m here to haunt you!
Clarissa Qualls
Oh, what makes a man so strong?
Could it be his heart
That’s always alone?
Or maybe all the things he’s lost in life—
Possibly the scars he wears from pain and strife?
Could it be the hard things he has to overcome?
Maybe it’s his feelings that make him numb.
A man is someone who has pride in his heart
And love in his veins, you see, and
When I look at you, I see the strongest man I’ve ever seen.
“Tell Me How You Feel”
So tell me how you feel
I won’t hold it against you.
I’ll close my eyes, and hope it’s not real
But in reality, it’s still true.
I won’t try to stop you;
I know that you’re leaving.
I wish I would have noticed the clues
The day that you stopped believing.
I’ll try not to argue
I’ll try not to fall apart—
I know that I’ll miss you
Just know you’ll always have a place in my heart
Carolyn Qualls
You are perfect, wonderful, and free.
You are the perfection I wish I could be.
I wish I was perfect, perfect like you
To be this way, and do whatever I wanted to.
In my head, I see you perfectly,
But I’m not perfect, and I’ll never be.
Carolyn Qualls
Untitled
I won’t live forever, so I’ll never let go
I promised you and I’ll always hold on
I’ll send my love to you no matter how far
Because to me you are…
Perfect, you can do no wrong.
Beautiful, wonderful, loving, so strong—
You are everything I wish I could be—
You are everything to me.
Carolyn Qualls
DEATH’S WARNING
Melissa Hickman
Red as bloodBeautiful as a flowerTho it lay dead, its feathers all aroundThe Scarlet Ibis’s beauty shines.
Nothing can beat the sight we see.in death, rays of light still shine.Sometimes not as brightAnd not as far.
But all in all it was a warningdeath was comingto take a soulThis who needed rest.
Like an angel he flewto be up in the beautiful skyat rest at once.To live in peace.
THEY
Hannah Henry
The Scarlet Ibis, the color red,was beautiful but now its dead.The brothers two, both strong and tall,played all day, handsome in fall.
They play most days, but also worked hard.After they’d grown, they were going far.They were teens, still young but old,They were kinda like kids, truth be told.
They still had fun, though they had maturedBut still they worked, for they had been lured.Lured by riches, a business of their own,a nice little family, a beautiful home.
The did love each other, and together they wanted to live.They had fights sometimes but they would always forgive.They were brothers for life, together all their days.They were inseparable, lost in a fuzzy haze.
They soon had their house and families to match.They were so happy lost in a time hatch.They had fun a lot, just like old times.They played with their kids, coming up with little rhymes.
The fun times lasted for quite a while.You could hear their laughter, for over a mile.They were so happy, it was beyond compare.But time grew short, thin as hair.
They had to go soon, the end of their time.Their kids were sad, but were still sublime.They made the best of the time they hadbut still they cried often, hiding from mom and dad.
When time was up, and they had to go,They left their love, it was leaving gold.They treasured it always, for the rest of their livesAnd when they grew older, they gave it to their wives.
NOSTALGIA IS A BEAUTIFUL PAIN
Noah Hurst
I’m 70 years old now.Returning to this old, barren house is truly hard,but it makes me remember.It makes me remember the time with my brother.I remember when I taught him to walk by himself.I remember the flowers we would pick,the pie we would eat.Oh, yes, I remember…How I trained him.
Trying to make him swim.Trying to get him to run.He couldn’t take it.Oh, yes, I remember…I remember the rain, the lightning,the little boy,and the Scarlet Ibis.Nostalgia is a beautiful pain.
TORN APART
Katie Jackson
Oh, I wish it was a later day,I wished to never see this sadness.If only it didn’t have to be this way.Everything is getting darker, fading to grey.
I thought things were fine,We were just starting to play,Then with my last hope,You went away.
I miss you dearlyMy love for you was blooming,Like the leaves yearly.Now the world just seems gloomy.
I still don’t understand why you had to leave,Maybe it was for the better.I wish you wouldn’t have left me.I miss you, Doodle.
LITTLE BROTHER
Mary Jane Gutierrez
Little brother in the skyI hear your name calling meThe only thing I hear at night is your nameEach night I have the same nightmare.
Doodle, can’t stop thinking about youYou will be my little brotherI will never forget about youYou will be in my heart.
You’re my brother for the rest of my lifeI will never forget about that dayThe day you die I can’t forget itAnd I will remember the day you were born
Doodle wherever you are I hope you’re fineYou’re my brother forever you wouldn’t leave my heartI will love you my little brotherDoodle never leave my side.
THE BIRD OF WARNING
Preston Bartley
Sometimes we are warned of deathsometimes we are even shown what will come,As humans we do not always seeFor whats to come may be in front of us.
Young brothers closer than anythingone with sickness and doubt,one healthy with positiveness.Brother and Doodle as one.
As a family eating dinner,they come to find a bird unknown.Doodle very stricken and depressed.He wants to give the rare, red bird a burial.
As they examine the bird they noticeblood coming out of its beak.Brother very curious and scared.Doodle knowing but hoping not.
Days later Brother and Doodle walk,they walk till a storm comes so fast.They run runrun and Doodle fallsscreaming for Brother. Brother does not stop.
Scared and worried Brother finally returns.The site is horrific.Doodle laying there like the bird,cold, dead, and blood from the mouth.
DOODLE
Andrea Munguia
Doodle was smartHe was mentally ill,But that didn’t stop himHe learned to do a lot of stuff.
Of course with his brother’s helpHe learned to talk;He learned to walk.He was even learning how to swim.
The doctors were wrong about Doodle.They said he wouldn’t be able to movebut he proved them wrong.In fact, they said he wouldn’t live long.
They were right about that.He didn’t live very long.He died while trying to get out of a storm.He over did his abilities.
THE SIGN OF DEATH
Katie Watkins
The Scarlet Ibis, such a pretty bird,the sign of death, how sad.Doodle, such a young boy,so strong, brave, and happy.Had a rough start, unable to go.His brother able to, though.Pulled around everywhere the brother saidenough is enough you must stand.
Hard work, pushed really hard.Doodle tried and tried some more.Finally able to stand.Doodle walked, ran, and even swam.Doodle worked and worked some morelong days of hard pushing work.Doodle finally was pushed too hard.The Scarlet Ibis, such a pretty bird,the sign of death, how sad.
DOODLE, THAT IS
Lexi McCulloch
He was a good boy.Doodle, that is.My brother was not all there.Mentally challenged, that is.
I wanted a normal brother.One that would do normal thingslike play ball or hide and seek.Not one that couldn’t even walk.
I decided I would have a normal brother.One that could walk and could swim.I pushed him harder and harderuntil he could do those things.
But maybe I pushed too hard.So hard it killed my brother.If only I’d known.He was a good boy.Doodle, that is.
MOURNING DOODLE
Tyler Baggett
There once was a boy with a name too grand.He couldn’t walk, just crawl hand by hand.His family pondered and thought for a name.When suddenly one came.
Doodle, the name they’d found.Short and sweet to the sound.His brother tried to teach him how to walk and to swim.Little did he know it would come back to bite him.
Day after day they tried and they tried.Constantly until Doodle cried.He kept pushing Doodle to be the best he could be.Little by little he fell to a knee.
Oh Doodle, Doodle, please tell me you’re fine.But he lay there as still as he if he’d stepped on a mine.His family cherished and loved him since he was born.And now and forever, they will continue to mourn.
TOO SOON
Sami Brown
Doodle was just a kid.Whose life was cut too soon.We all know what his brother did.He pushed him to walk that afternoon.
His mom stood there cryingas she found out the news.Her son was dyingand there was nothing she could do.
The dad acted strongbut his other son could see through his façade.He sat around listening to old, sad songs,as he pretended everything was okay.
Doodle’s brother blamed himself.There was no one else to blame.Accidents happen I told myself,sometimes there is no one to blame.
“On Trying To Write A Sonnet”
A special structure equals fourteen lines
And each line rhymes in a certain way they say.
I tried and tried and tried to write all day;
It took up nearly all my thought and time.
To write a sonnet would be so sublime—
If I could do it, it would be my pay.
The hardest part is knowing what to say
And how to write a certain kind of rhyme.
It is a challenge, but I will succeed,
And when I am finished, be proud indeed.
I think this was the hardest thing to do,
And I asked my students to do it too—
What must I have been thinking when I said
We’ll try to write a sonnet from our head!!
J. Dunn
Kaitlin Gober
I fly, feeling the summer breezebeneath my wings.Then I see the stormand I am helpless.
The world is a whirlpoolas I try to landonly to be swept up again.stolen from the sky.
I don’t know where I am!I can’t see anymore.
I can’t fly.I can only glide through this.Through the end.
I feel…leaves!Next comes the soft woodbeneath my feet.I have landed!Now I must rest.
When I wake, I still cannot see,but I want to fly.I know I will not make it;flying is not an option.
Until I realize I am going to die anyway,but I will fly again.I jump and see the ground;there are humans below.
As I fallI fly into the clouds.I feel the sun’s heat.I am home.
GONE TOO SOON
Jesus Rodriguez
I never should have left him,but I did not know his lifeline was so slim.He was my only brother,he was my blood like father and mother.
He was fragile and weak.When he was born, we thought he had only one week.He proved us wrongbut he didn’t live too long.
I’d ask him to stay home.Don’t go out to roam.Then he would cry.Oh, why did he have to die?
It’s because of that dumb bird.It doesn’t belong here, this is what I heard.Now he is deadand his shirt, once white, is red.
“A Hunter of Anything”
A hunter of anything
Came along and what did he bring?
A bow used to kill his food,
But only if he was in the mood.
He would only kill for meat
For that was all he would eat.
He was accurate with a bow,
But clumbsy and shot off his toe.
With a limp he did walk
And he could no longer stalk,
So surprise was his best plan.
In a bush he threw a pan.
Out flew many birds of game;
He shot and did not maim
For dinner was on his mind,
And he was good with any kind.
Rodney Ray
THE MONSTER IN MY LOCKER
Adrian Godfrey
7:15 I arrive at-the pit.
Assignments! Assignments!Always!
Today’s assignment:Clean my locker.
Two months solid trash.I pull and tug it out.
Papers! Papers!Everywhere!
F, F, C, D, C, C, F, andoh, look, and A.
Sniff, sniff.I don’t believe that sandwich is good.
Febreze! Febreze!Febreze it all!
Mr. Clean, my man,come here!
Shine! Shine!!It’s clean!
Wow! My second A!
“A Nation’s Storm”
( A 911 survivor is sitting at the beach fighting the memories of the attack. Each crashing wave brings back a new memory.)
As I sit here on the shoreThe memories are evermore“No more, no more!” I do imploreBut in my head, the waves explore
Waves of fire fall aroundWaves of smoke upon the groundWaves of sirens fill the townWaves of bodies never found
The crashing waves come crawling inMaking my mind awful like sin“Get out, get out!” I plead againBut the waves always win
The smell of fire fills the airPeople praying everywhereI try so hard not to stareBut the sight is oh so rare
The tallest twin there ever wasComes crashing down with a thudAs soon as smoke begins to floodThe other twin falls with a tug
Confusion quickly fills the airScreams of terror everywhereI sit in shock as sirens blareAnd masked men find me help and care
As I sit here on the shoreThe memories are evermoreThey’ve left my heart alone to mournThat dreaded day, a nation’s storm.
Maggie Dunn
“The Definition of Insanity”
By Michael Lane
It happened again…. The nightmare I mean. I had the same sick feeling bubbling inside me as I awoke this morning. Sweat festering inside my clothes filled me with unease as I rose. I plant my feet by the side of my bed, feeling a level of guilt seeing the three empty bottles of liquor. My head was pounding from the night prior. I thanked God that it was the weekend. I didn’t feel like going to work anyway, much less waking up. However, I did not wish to enter back to the hell that was my own thoughts.
So, I stood up. I rose slowly as my back arched, with the muscles pulling next to my spine. I reached the path of the glare entering my window through the curtains, as I pressed forward to the kitchen, pushing through the clothing and trash that lay on my apartment floor. When I had finally made it to the coffee maker, I replayed the dark dream in my head.
It always starts with a man sitting alone, with his face between his knees, feet firmly placed on the ground. He weeps uncontrollably. A single, pure white spotlight shines on him, pushing back the darkness that surrounds. I see him off in the distance, and immediately run to comfort him, but never reach him. Instead, it would seem I never get any closer. So, I have no choice but to stand and watch. I knew who he was, and could see the obvious. It was me, alone to settle my sorrows. I continue to watch him being tortured by the thoughts of loneliness. It felt as if years were passing by, as he begins to find death comforting. He starts to stand, the smirk he shows is barely seen by the heavy shadows cast by his head. He begins to frantically look for something, and finds many ways he could end his self-inflicted pain. Then I wake up, confused and wondering what was going to happen next.
I process the nightmare a couple more times, and question ’What does this mean?’ Even though I knew what it meant, I am not negligent. I just wish I didn’t know. I don’t talk to anyone about these dreams because I have no one to tell. Instead it boils inside of me, like a pot of hot water. I ask myself, “What is wrong with me?” I have no one to express my problems to. My parents haven’t talked to me in years, and my brother and sister despise me it would seem. I don’t have any friends either, and I let all of these things sit. I process my problems and collapse on the ground. Both os my knees crash to the floor of my apartment. My arms lay limp on my thighs as I hold back tears. I raise my hands a foot away from my face to try and catch the warm fluids that caress my cheeks, as if I were trying to stop them from making me seem weak. However, it was no use. My arms grew heavy and my heart turns as I repeat the dark thoughts in my head. My irrational thoughts clouded my clear judgments.
It was then Monday. A new day and yet it always seemed the same. I wake up, bathe, get dressed, and then set off to get some morning coffee and donuts at my local café. I would always watch the people walk back and forth through the shop as I waited for my shift to start, and would observe them as they pass. “They seem so happy,” I thought to myself. I have never actually noticed it before. It’s probably because the people in their lives try to make their life easy, always giving them a
complement, whether it would be a mother, father, or a lover. A group of people walk by, and while I am trying not to stare, as they pass. With each gap between each person I could notice, what seems to be, a red-haired woman sitting across the opposite side of the café. She seemed to be a busy type of person, and seemed to be very important. My irrational thinking began to make me feel as if I was useless, and after a minute or two, I had fully convinced myself. My eyes begin to water as my face turns red. I stamp my head with the web between my index finger and thumb, trying to fight back the urge to cry. “What’s wrong with me?!” I mouth, while my head is bowed and my teeth are gritting. At that moment I hear the creaking of a wooden chair settling. I immediately begin to wipe my face with my sleeve, and see who it is. A puzzled look had appeared on my face. It was the red-haired woman I had examined before. However, I could now notice her more clearly than before. She had amazing blue eyes and red wavy hair. I could tell her hair was very well taken care of because of the amount of light that was reflecting from the March morning sun. Her pillowed lips started to move as if she was going to say something. I begin to examine the expressions of her face to understand her motivation. It was a concerned look, but it still had a friendly feel. I assumed she was coming to see if I was okay, so I began to come up with excuses for why I was hiding my tears so clearly. I then heard the sound of her voice, so I listened carefully. This was the first time someone had talked to me in months, besides being work related, of course. However, even at work they never seem to want to talk to me, unless it was for a professional reason. I grew anxious. After hearing what she had to say, I sank into a biome of pity and stupidity. She asked if I wanted to buy a workout DVD program. My heart sinks as the thought of being worthless enters my mind again. Now trying desperately to hold back my emotions, I respectfully decline, and then leave for work.
It thenn becomes Saturday. The week becomes a blur of heart break and work. Every day bleeds together as if it were one big memory. After the week is finished, I always have time to think about the bad times in my life. The times I made mistakes and wish I could change them, and I think about the good times. The times I wish I could replay. I think about what people had told me throughout my life. I think about what I could have done differently, and try to be the perfect person that people want me to be. Then I sulk. I sit in my apartment, on the edge of my bed for hours upon hours, drink after drink, until I lose myself in a void of my deepest darkest fear, complete loneliness. I sit there, with my body exhausted from the emptiness I feel all through the week. I think, “When does this stop?” I can’t stop thinking about the dream at this point. “I know what I must do, but I don’t want to!” I complain. “Things will be different next week!” I knew I was just playing tricks on myself, and torturing myself with fantasies.
“I…I gotta do it…” I mumble. “It’s now or never.” I began to think up solutions to my problem, my demise. However, no matter how hard I tried to think of multiple ways, I could only think of one. It was a knife to the wrists. It seemed pretty simple too me at the time, and I could die slowly with least amount of pain as possible. I sprint out of the doorway from my bedroom, making four strides into the kitchen. I did not hesitate to grab the knife, and place it two inches from my wrist. I take a minute to breath, getting ready to make the cut. I press down as hard as I can. Tears begin to shoot out of my eyes as I press harder and harder so I can reach my veins. I stop, feeling accomplished, wiping the tears from my face while the knife was in my hands. However, I had an odd feeling. It was not pain; actually
the only pain I had felt was from the veins setting back down in my head. I slowly raise my hand to the light put out by the street lamp from the outside, coming through the window, and realize not a single scratch had been made. I slowly make it back to my bed and lay there crying, and I soon drift off to start the week over.
It happened again…. The nightmare I mean.
SILENCE
By Annsley Ingram
143 8:00 A.M.
Silence. Day 143 of pure silence. My mom, silent. My dad, silent. When people walk by our incomplete little family, silence and the occasional look of sorrow. I hate the word incomplete, but that’s what my family is. Sad and incomplete. Living in a small town everybody grieves for you. Just because your sister has been in a coma for 143 days, they think you can have no friends because you’re overcome with depression. Depression. Another word I hate. I need a friend. Someone to talk to about that horrible day. That horrible day that was all my fault. I talk to my sister and God, but I need conversation. I need response in this deadly silence. My mom and dad aren’t satisfied with just me, why would they be? There’s still hope Anastasia will regain consciousness. I’d feel better….
143 5:00 P.M.
I wonder what she dreams about in her never ending rest. She’s like Sleeping Beauty, so beautiful, but so mute. Does she replay the catastrophe over and over in her head like I do? Does she dream of her boyfriend, Trevor? I talk to her about school. Starting middle school I crave my sister’s advice, especially about boys. I tell her everything even though she can’t respond. I like talking to her, is that bad? It’s crazy, but it gets me through this silence. In all these one-sided conversations I have never had the heart to tell Anastasia what happened, or even apologize. It should’ve been me.
145 6:00 P. M.
Day 145. Silence. Guilty silence. Guilt. Another word on my list of hate words. Oh, but the guilt I feel is putrid. I’ve thought about it for 145 days. Not a word about it has been uttered. Mom and Dad know it’s my fault, Trevor knows it’s my fault, everyone knows. Besides Anastasia, who is the cause of my guilt. She’s just in oblivion. That’s not like her. She fears oblivion. It makes me wonder if she would fear herself, that is if she wasn’t in an enormous state of oblivion. I’ve been wondering a lot…I wonder if she can hear the words we all speak around her. If so, I wouldn’t want to wake up either. It’s depressing. If she can hear, that makes me wonder if she should know what happened. I think she should. It will ease my guilt and her oblivion just a little. I’m going to tell her.
145 9:15 P.M.
Sitting in the lobby with my parents is weird. No one speaks. While they wait on the doctor, and I wait on private time with my sister, I pray. I pray about a lot of things. I ask God questions, and talk to Him. That makes me feel comfortable. Comfortable: a feeling I rarely feel anymore. It makes me realize that if Anastasia doesn’t wake up, she will be a beautiful angel in the Lord’s Kingdom. I’ve talked to God about telling her. He knows I’m nervous. I pray for one thing, and I’ve been praying for it for 145 days. That is strength. God has blessed me with that. I still have faith. When I think I’m about to give up, I read the book of Job. I pretend I’m the modern day Job, is that weird? A door opens. 9:45, I’m ready. Please God, give me courage. Amen.
145 9:46 P.M.
I walk in. She’s lying there motionless. I swallow my spit. I pull out a chair and grab her hand. “Hey A, I have something I need to discuss with you.” No response. “Well, I know you don’t remember, but we were in a car accident a while back. You were driving and we weren’t wearing our seat belts.” Tears start rolling down my flushed cheeks. “A transfer driver fell asleep and crossed over 3 lanes of traffic. It had mostly missed us, but the back was going to hit the passenger side. You threw yourself over me, to protect me. The front part closed your body in. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be awake. I’m so sorry.” I lay my head down and sob. I feel a slight squeeze on my hand, and then the eternal silence is suddenly broken with the sound of Anastasia’s sweet voice calling my name, “Lily?”
When the Time Was Right
I was just a girl, a plain, normal, average girl. I had a mom, a dad, and a little brother. I had lots of friends, but one day, everything changed. My life was altered in a way no one would have anticipated.
My name is Emily Bryant. I grew up in a small town where everybody knew everybody, yet it was comforting. I was born on a blazing summer day in July. My mom always told me about how proud she was when she held me in her arms, but I would just giggle and continue what I was doing. I did not really understand why she was so proud. A lot of people have children; what made me so special? But when I asked, she would say. “You will know when the time is right.”
I grew up playing sports, but once I got into the eighth grade, they seemed to get harder to play. I was constantly out of breath, and when I got home, all I wanted to do was sleep. Most days I did not even feel like eating. I would often stay home from school because I felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders, and I was going to crack under the pressure. My mom noticed the severe change in my behavior, so she took me to the hospital. The doctor checked my blood pressure, and did a few tests, but all of them came back negative. He said I would be fine and wrote me a prescription. He sent me away with a suggestion and a broken promise.
Weeks passed with no improvement. I noticed a large bruise on my lower thigh. I did not think it was a big deal, but after a few weeks went by, my mom got really worried. She took me to the hospital again. This time I saw a different doctor. She ran more tests on me and then, she let me go home. It seemed like forever, but my mom finally got the phone call. Her facial expression looked as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. She hung up and told me we had to go to the hospital for the results. I was nervous, but I could not let my mom see how concerned I was. When we got to the hospital, the doctor took us to a room and we sat down. The next thing she said sent a chill down my spine. She looked at me with weary eyes and said, “You have a very serious kind of cancer.” I felt my heart drop into my stomach and the sting of a tear roll down my red-hot cheek.
As soon as I went to school, it seemed like I was the most popular girl there. People I didn’t even know came up to hug me. I thought it was cool at first, until I realized they were doing it out of pity. There was a certain kind of sadness in the air that day. Everyone felt bad for me, you could tell, but I was glad to have the support. A few months after I was diagnosed, my hair had fallen out, and I got a beautiful blond wig. I wanted my real hair back, but this was O.K., too. Eventually I lost a lot of weight. It was hard to looke in the mirror, but I tried to stay strong for my friends and family.
My health seemed to be getting worse, but a year after I was diagnosed, I went to the hospital for chemo. The doctor said I had made a substantial improvement, but that night I took a turn for the worse. I was lying in the hospital bed when the doctor said there was nothing more
he could do. My mom stayed by my side the entire night. I stayed awake with her. I started to feel myself drift farther and farther away. I don’t know what prompted it, but I suddenly got the urge to ask my mom if the time was right. She looked at me with misty eyes; she smiled and nodded her head. I finally understood why I was so special. Life is a gift. In that moment, I knew I could let go. Everything was going to be O.K. So I looked into my mom’s big, caring eyes and told her everything would be alright. I held her hands in mine and closed my eyes. Everything is alright now. I do not feel any more pain, and I know my mom understands why I had to go. The time was right. I knew what she had meant all along—life is a wondrous, magical thing. Enjoy it with the people you love before you run out of time.
By Kayleigh Jones
Creed!
It was about two years ago in April or May. It was a normal day just going to see my
sister, Varonica, in the YDC. I was with my mom and other sister, Bella. I call her Danielle.
We were a little early, and my sister got out of her truck with her boyfriend and walked over to
my mom’s car where we were sitting. My sister told us, “I have something important to tell you
guys. Mom, you promise not to get mad?” Then before our mom could answer, “I’m pregnant!”
she yelled. I thought my mom was going to have a heart attack. She started to cry and was so
happy. She went to get her phone out to post on Facebook about her first grandbaby, but my
sister said, “No, you can’t, not until I tell you that you can. Tammy (her adopted mom, also our
aunt) doesn’t know yet.” My mom was okay with that and promised she wouldn’t.
Everyone was happy but me. I didn’t want another baby around. I was the baby. Months
passed. Every time someone brought the baby up, I made sure they knew I didn’t like it either
by leaving the room, making a face, or anything. When they found out the sex of the baby and
named it, I thought it was stupid, absolutely stupid! Who would name their kid Creed? When I
finally saw the ultrasound of him, I fell in love. I didn’t understand how I could not have wanted
something that precious in my life.
He was due December 3, 2012 and was born December 8, 2012. I missed school on that
Friday just to see him born. He was born December 8, 2012 at 12:56 A.M., was 21 ½ inches
long, and weighed 8 pounds, 8 ounces. We went in to see him, and he was the most beautiful
baby I had ever seen. His name is Nathaniel Creed Hampton. We call him Creed, and he is my
handsome, little nephew whom I go to see every time we have a break in school that I can go
stay with my sister and her husband.
Indiaetta Cook
Two years ago this May, I remember going through a rough time, knowing that my best friend of 15 years was soon leaving. From the time I could first talk I always looked up to him. We would argue on a daily basis, and he would continuously pick on me. Although he would pick on me, I would always be by his side, from playing with hot wheel cars to playing in the dirt outside. He was my big brother and would always be my “Bubba” that I loved.
I was a sophomore in high school which meant it was his senior year. I was spending time with him and his friends each day, not realizing the short time I had left with them at school. That October came and we traveled to Nashville, Tennessee to tour a college that he was interested in. During the tour I could see the happiness that filled his heart. Seeing it made me feel excited for him, but on the way back home that day, it hit me hard. That was it; my best friend would be moving three hours away from me, what would I do? Who would put a smile on my face when I was having a bad day? Who would help me study for FFA competitions?
When I got back home, I knew I didn’t have much time to spend with him and that I had to make the best of times then. My new goal was to be with him as much as I could and not argue. Throughout the rest of the school year, I spent the most time with him that I could. We would go on rides together and have long talks. The month of May soon came which I knew would be the hardest time for me. We attended the FFA banquet at the end of the year; we were both active members of the organization. All the seniors of the 2012 class had a senior retiring address to give. It felt like the longest time while each senior gave his speech, the I heard the name Seth Wilson called. My heart dropped and my eyes developed tears. As he walked onto the stage, I started crying. He gave his speech thanking everyone who had helped him along the way. After it was over, he came to me and hugged me tightly as I cried.
Two weeks later it was time for him to move to Nashville, Tennessee for the next year and a half. My parents and I spent the week in Nashville with him as we moved him into his dorm. Soon the day we had to leave came; I knew the goodbye was going to be the hardest goodbye of my life. After we hugged, I went and got in the car. Turning and watching from the distance as we drove off broke my heart. Both my parents were crying their eyes out and I wouldn’t shed a tear. I held all my emotions in because I now had to be the strong one. When we finally got home, it was late so I went to bed, as I shut my door, all the emotion was released. Tears began flowing and would not stop. My brother was three hours away; this was the longest distance we had ever been apart. How was I going to cope with him being so far away? I missed him more than ever.
Seeing that he was furthering his education gave me the motivation to be the best that I could be. Now, two years later, he has graduated college and is in the work force. Now it is my time; in a few months I will be graduating high school and moving four hours away to Tifton, Georgia. I always thought saying goodbye to him was the hardest goodbye ever, but I realize I will now have to have that goodbye again with him. Tears will be shed, but my brother will always be my best friend by my side. By Breanna Wilson
An Hour
By Chase Cloer
It was a day like any other, but in one hour I was going to my friend’s party. I was really
excited about it. I got ready pretty early so I had a lot of free time before it. I started to grow
bored and decided to look for good ways to pass the time. Being excited was making it feel like
the time was just creeping by.
I thought that maybe I could pass some time by playing some video games. I turned on
my PS3 and started to get my game on. After only playing for about ten minutes, something
strange happened. The PS3 and TV turned off all by themselves. I was stunned for a moment,
but eventually got up and tried to turn them back on. Nothing happened at first, but then the TV
came back on by itself.
I was beginning to get scared. The TV just had a plain white picture on it. I leaned in a
little closer when all of a sudden, a giant hand pulled me into the TV. I fell into the white abyss
until I landed on some kind of very soft surface. I looked around, but everything was just a
strange white void. I didn’t know what else to do except to just walk in any direction.
I was walking for what seemed like hours when I noticed something. I saw another
person far in the distance. I ran up to them and asked for help, but got no response. I tapped
them on the shoulder and said, “Hey, can you help me?” They turned around slowly, and then I
realized it was a man holing a bloody machete with a horrifying crooked grin on his face. Before
I had time to react, he swung his machete at me. Then I jumped off the couch! I realized it was
a dream and I was relieved until I looked at the clock. I had missed my best friend’s party by a
whole four hours.
The time is September 19, 1834. I’m sitting here in my house, but my house is not normal; it flies. It flies by the power of steam fans and hydrogen balloons. The town I am a part of is a little merchant town called Stingray Circle. Here all the buildings and ships fly trading with other towns and cities which may or may not fly.
My specific role is one I choose to keep secret; I am a privateer captain. My ship is the S.S. Isabella. It has two propellers, a viewing porch, a glass bow which serves as a command bridge, and a rope bridge connecting the bow to the stern. Up on its balloon, it has a black cloth draped over it with the skull and cross wrenches to mark its class. My story begins a year ago.
“Captain, we’re almost there!” cried my first mate. I woke from my nap and grabbed my coat, hat, and chain cutlass and proceeded to the bridge. I met my helmsman and my first mate there where I was told, “Two kilometers west, captain.”
“Helmsman, fifteen degrees port,” I told him. “Aye, captain,” he replied. As our travels continued, my men started singing a shanty.
I am not a pirate, but I long to be sailing by the stars across the seven seas. Living with my no earthly cares, my mates and me, I would be the envy of the worldly men who are not free. As their singing became quiet, I gave the command to dock. Night fell upon us as we walked into an inn looking for food and rest. That’s when I met him, a man who stood seven and a half feet tall, decorated with skulls all over his person. He looked at me and said, “Fine crew ye got there. Ye hungry for work?”
“Hungry for gold we are,” I calmly said in reply.
“Then meet me by the docks tomorrow at 8:00 A.M.,” he said. “Aye,” I replied.
When the sun met us, it was about 6:00. I headed out with two of my crew to get supplies at the market. At about 8:00 we met the captain. He told me about wanting to raid royal merchant ships off the main coast. Of course we quickly agreed and accepted a contract; we made the ship ready to depart. As we made haste to waypoint, we flew into formation with three other airships.
We plundered for about a week before we met it—the Obsidian frigate. The ship had interior balloons and was made of black iron. It measured about ten times the size of the Isabella, and had one hundred times more guns. I gave the command for full steam ahead, and into the belly of the beast we fought until just me and the frigate stayed airborne. With little hope left, I rammed the Isabella into the bridge of the frigate, so we could board. Suddenly, time froze as I turned my head to see my first mate hacked down by a chain cutlass. Enraged, I finished off the enemy captain and claimed the loot, but gold can’t buy friendship.
So that leads me to today. I keep a low profile and only attack weaker ships. Even now, it’s still the pirate’s life for me.
Matthew Henry
The Wolf Inside Me
By Anna Parham
As she lie there on the cold, snowy ground she wondered why, out of every little girl, she got dragged to woods by a wolf. Sky was almost sixteen now and working in a coffee shop in her local small town. Her parents died when she was five trying to save her from wolves that were trying to kill and eat her. Except there was one wolf who didn’t try to harm her. Every day, at a certain time, she laid food out so she could see her wolf. Her wolf had crystal blue eyes and snowy white fur. He was the reason she lived. As she walked out on the back porch, she laid the food down for him and walked back into the house and waited. Her grandfather came downstairs and made himself some breakfast.
Since her parents passed, she lived with her grandfather, but didn’t mind. She had always loved her grandpa. Her grandfather had moved into her house and taken the guest bedroom because she wanted her parent’s room to remain the same. As her grandfather left the room, her wolf departed from the woods. She smiled as she saw her wolf. While he ate and left, she got ready for school. She was ready in a matter of minutes, and grabbing the keys to what had been her mother’s yellow jeep, drove to school. Sky was a tenth grader and had only one friend, Luna. She met up with Luna at the front doors. They walked in; everyone was talking about their summer break when Sky bumped into someone. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching,” the mystery boy said. She looked up as he did, and looked into crystal blue eyes; she knew those eyes. They were her wolf’s eyes but they couldn’t be; he was a wolf, this was a boy. As he smiled, he asked for her name. She replied, “Skylar, but my friends call me Sky.” He smiled and they exchanged numbers. Luna knew everything about Sky’s wolf, and she knew Sky and she were thinking the same thing—this was Sky’s wolf!
As she watched the boy (her wolf?) walk away, she remembered she had never gotten his name. She ran after him and followed him outside to the woods. Right there in front of her she saw the mystery boy turn into he blue-eyed, snowy fur wolf. She cleared her throat and he turned back into a boy. Nothing was out of place; his clothes weren’t even torn. He turned to face her. She ran up to him, hugged him, and smiled. He finally understood why she was hugging him—she was the little girl he had fallen in love with as a pup; this girl, he thought, whom his pack had almost killed. This was the girl who laid food out for him every day just so she could see him. As she looked into his eyes, she asked him his name. “My name is Caleb,” he said, looking into her big brown eyes. They walked through the woods to Caleb’s house, and she told him about herself and the past nine years. When they got to Caleb and his pack’s house, Sky saw something she never thought she would see—her parents! As they stood there staring at her she thought, it can’t be them; they’re dead. Caleb saw the tears and explained, “When your parents came to save you, they were bitten and were changed. Since they are older and stronger, they became the Alpha and Omega wolves, and they ordered us to leave you alone until your seventeenth birthday.”
Then she remembered that she had been bitten, too, but had never changed. She said, “My birthday is tomorrow.” He smiled and said, “Yes, and you will join the pack and be with me.” She was
so happy because she would be with her family again and also live happily with her wolf—he crystal blue-eyed, white snowy furred wolf. They went in and talked about the years, waiting for tomorrow to come.
It was now the day of her birthday. Caleb had made everyone in the breakfast as her mom introduced her to the others. She would be joining the pack, and she herself would also be an Alpha and Omega after her parents. Going down the line, her parents introduced her. There were Jack and Sarah, Tyler and Ashley, James and Lena. Then there were the kids. Melody was Jack and Sarah’s; Lily and Michael were Tyler and Ashley’s; and Harry and Niall were James and Lens’s. Before they know it, the sun had gone down, which meant it was time for Sky to change for the first time. Everyone went outside and waited. As Sky felt it, she began to be in horrible pain. Her bones were breaking, her flesh was ripping, and Sky was screaming for it to stop. It did. She looked at herself and saw her brown eyes and whit fur, and she howled. Caleb turned into a wolf and they started to run like Sky had never run before. The wind was in her fur and everything was perfect. She was finally free.
Which Door Next? Avery Bishop
It all started on a Friday. I woke up and got ready for the game. There was so much stuff to do. I had to pack my jersey, socks, and shoes. I was so excited. It was my very last basketball game of the season and I was starting the game. I looked at the clock. I had only a few more minutes until time for school. I rode in the car to school, listening to my “game day” music, and I was so ready for the game. I got to school and hung out with the basketball girls until the bell rang.
It was finally only two more hours until the big game. Now I could get ready, put on my jersey, slide on my socks, and tighten my shoelaces. Coach gave me the ball and said, “Take this ball and lead us to state.” At that moment, I knew exactly what to do. That’s when the music started, the crowd went wild, and I made the first layup. Next Coach called me over to be the team captain. I shook the girl’s hand and, “Good luck.”
I also ended up jumping for the ball in the first period. Bam! I hit the ball and my teammate got it. I went down low, got the ball, and made the shot. I scored the first two points. By half time, we were winning by ten points. Coach gave us his speech telling us that he believed in us, and that all we had to do was believe in ourselves to go to state. The timer ran out and they told us to get out there and play ball.
By fourth period we were all worn out, but we weren’t about to give up. There were only ten seconds left on the clock and we were down by two. Coach called a time out, and asked me if I thought I could make a three pointer. I answered back saying, “Coach, you told me to just believe, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” He just smiled. The point guard got the ball and passed it to me, and I shot at the three point line. Boom! I got slammed into the court. I opened one eye, and I had made the shot! The crowd went wild. They cheered my name. I felt so great.
What I didn’t realize was that I was on the ground and I couldn’t get up. Coach ran over to me. All I could hear was, “Get up, get up!” and “Don’t you dare close your eyes on me.” I could hear everything, but I couldn’t get up oe open my eyes. I could hear my mom crying and shouting, “No” over and over again. My dad was on the way to game and didn’t find out until my mom called him. I slowly just fell asleep.
I could feel a needle going into my arm and people mumbling around me, but I just couldn’t understand. I saw a light. I thought to myself, “Is it the sun, could it be I am dead, or am I dreaming?” That’s when I realized it was a light. A man had a light shining in my eye. It felt as if he were trying to blind me. Then he finally stopped. I opened my eyes and saw the point guard that gave me the ball just standing there. I think I thought to myself, “I have to be dreaming.”
She told me I was in a coma and that I was going to have to find my way out of it by finding the right door. I just thought she had lost her mind. That was until I saw my lifeless body just lying there. I began to freak out. She said there would be many doors, but that I wouldn’t know which one was the right door until I saw my body again. I turned around and I was in the hospital waiting area. I was confused because I had never even been there before, so I kept walking.
I found the first door. It was pink and had a brain on it, so I began to open it and saw one of the girls from my team. She was the other starting post. She touched my head and asked me if I had any memory of the accident. I told her I fell, and that was the only thing I could
remember. She gave me the strangest look. That’s when she told me, “A girl was running too fast; she put her hand out to stop herself, and accidently punched you in the head. You went head first onto the court and lost a lot of blood from your head.” I had so many emotions going through my mind that I couldn’t even think straight. She told me to keep moving and that my parents and the coach were missing me.
There was another door. It was yellow and had a smiley face on it. I opened it and there was one of my starting guards. She always had something good to say. She was one of the sweetest people I had ever met. She began to tell me about how glad she was to have me on her team. She also talked about how the crowd was so happy when I made the last shot and won the game. She also asked me if I had any memory of it all. Of course I said, “Not really.” She showed me the next door.
Next, I saw a red door with a heart on it. I opened it and saw the other starting guard in the room. She always talked about boys. It made me understand the heart on the door. She asked if I had any memory of how my parents and boyfriend felt when they saw my lifeless body just lying there, and again, I didn’t. She told me how my mom was freaking out, how my dad had to stop the car and just sit, not able to say anything, and how my boyfriend hadn’t eaten anything since the day it happened. That’s when I realized I needed to get to the next door as fast as possible.
My very last door was black. As soon as I walked in, it seemed as if I was in an abandoned building. It was so cold that it was painful. I began to feel my parents’ pain and how that girl must have felt when she saw me leave in the ambulance. I began to think about every good thing that happened that day and the light began to get brighter. I saw my body and I was happy. Then I disappeared. I began crying and lay down in my hospital bed. I fell asleep.
I began to hear voices again. I heard my mom say, “Nurse, nurse! She’s waking up!” They helped me sit up. The basketball team rushed in, my mom and dad’s faces lit up and the coach was the first to speak to me. “You led us to state just like I asked,” he said. “You told me to believe and that’s all I needed to do, so you led us, Coach,” I answered as plainly as I could. I Had been in that coma a whole week. I told them they were the ones that helped me get out ot it, but they will never understand just how much they really helped.
A Story
One morning, in an average suburb, a not so average teen was in for a rude awakening. Deafening snores echoed through the bedroom, so loud they ratted the stacks of CDs and caused the disco ball hanging from the ceiling to sway. It was no wonder the room’s occupant didn’t hear the door open and the unwelcome guest creep in. The snoring ended abruptly, and was replaced with the creaking of springs and a startled yelp.
“Ed, what are you doing on my bed?” Adam, who had been the one snoring shouted indignantly at his best friend, who had just taken a flying leap and landed directly on top of Adam.
“I was bored, and you weren’t awake,” he answered earnestly. “’Sides, I need your help finding some camping gear.” This was the first Adam had heard of a camping trip, which was strange because Ed was one of the biggest blabber mouths in town.
“Who are you going camping with?”
“Um…Socko, these two really hot girls, and Socko’s grandparents.”
Adam cocked an eyebrow at this and asked, “Why are you bringing Socko’s grandparents?”
“In case of bears,” Ed answered, totally straight-faced. Ed had always the kind of person with whom one question almost always led to several more. Adam let out a sigh; he knew he wasn’t going to get any more sleep this morning. He got up and headed out the door gesturing Ed to follow him.
The trap door was thrown open, allowing a beam of light into the dim attic. Adam clambered up and used the glow from the hall light to find the light switch. “Cool attic, Adam,” Ed said, peering around as the bare-hanging bulb chased the darkness into the corners of the room. “Yeah, my folks are pack rats,” the auburn-haired boy answered dismissively.
The attic was filled to the brim with stacks of beat up cardboard boxes, racks of musky out-of-date clothing, and just about anything you would expect to see at a flea market. Adam figured there was bound to be some camping gear up here. “I found a Frisbee,” Ed declared, holding up something shiny and black. Adam rolled his eyes at his friend’s absent mindedness as he reached for a box high up on a stack. “That’s a record, Blondy,” he called over his shoulder. At that moment the box he had been reaching for toppled over on to his head, luckily it wasn’t very heavy. He ripped the tape off the top of the box and rifled through it, tossing the contents backwards over his shoulder.
“Let’s see, Aunt Margaret’s old wig, granddad’s false teeth, Pete’s glasses (he should hold on to them even though he’s switched to contacts now), Dad’s old bowtie (tacky!), a headband with horns (must be part of an old Halloween costume). Well, Ed, I don’t see anything in…gosh!” When Adam turned around, there was bizarre-looking….thing, for lack of a better word, looming behind him. It had a pair of horns poking out from a mess of matted red hair, huge yellow teeth, and was wearing a pair of black coke bottle glasses, and a garish electric-blue bowtie. It took Adam a moment to recognize the other
being in the attic. “Ed, quit fooling around!” He groused as he snatched the wig off the taller boy’s head.
It took several hours and a couple more incidents before they finally had everything together. “Thanks, Adam,” Ed chirped happily, pulling his friend into a bone-crushing hug. Adam simply went limp for the moment as he was used to Ed’s overly affectionate nature, before squirming out of his grip.
“Yeah, yeah, go on and enjoy yourself,” he said shoving the overly exuberant teen off before murmuring to himself, ‘Now maybe tomorrow I can sleep in for a change!’
Gracie Craig
The Day That Changed Me
By Emily Philips
When you’re a kid, you never think about your parents dying or getting a divorce. I was the same. I never thought about having one of my parents dying or both of them separating. I was like every other kid with two parents. My parents were happy together. My sister and I got along most of the time. We were a normal, happy family, when we weren’t fighting.
My mom and dad worked at Shaw, but at different plants. My sister and I went to different schools because she was older than me. She cheered, and I played basketball. When my sister got into high school, she stopped cheering, and she changed after she quit. She wasn’t as happy as had been, but that’s Tatum for you. My mom always begged Tatum to cheer again, but she wouldn’t.
A few years went by and everything was fine because it was Christmas! My dad started to have heart problems again, though. He had problems before, when he was 21, so he went to the hospital. All they knew was that his heart had a hole on the left side. They also said that his heart was skipping beats. They told him he had to stay in the hospital so they would know how to help and maybe fix it.
He wasn’t allowed to go to work or drive when he came home. One day he was walking down the porch and fell and hurt his leg very badly. He was admitted into the hospital to have surgery on his leg. After the surgery, he had to stay in bed and people would come by to help him learn to walk again.
Now it’s summer; my dad is walking with a walker. He still has heart problems, and the hospital isn’t able to do the heart surgery because his veins aren’t the way they are supposed to be. He acts as if everything is okay, but we know it isn’t. The people still come by the house to help him walk without the walker. He is doing better and better every day.
It’s Sunday, June 2, 2013. Everything is normal. I walk into the living room and I sit beside my dad; he’s on the phone making a text message to me. “Haley, always remember God loves you…” that’s all I can see. I start talking to him by saying, “I love you, daddy.” And he replies, ”I love you, too. Haley, always do the very best at everything you do and always remember I love you with all my heart.” I answer, I will, and I love you with all my heart, too.”
I go back into my room and get the text from my dad. “Haley, always remember God loves you and so do I. Sometimes things aren’t always what they seem.” I didn’t know what he meant by that. All of a sudden I hear a loud bang. I run into the living room and my dad isn’t there. My sister is on the phone; she is crying. She starts saying where we live and I ask her what’s going on. She doesn’t answer me. I start crying and ask her again, “What’s going on?” She tells me and I don’t believe her. I go to my mom’s room. I see my dad lying on the bed and my mom is crying and yelling at him, but he is not responding. My dad had just committed suicide, and he didn’t survive.
The Secret to Success
There was a man on a pilgrimage who was looking for the key to success . He worked on his dream to be a king every day, but in his way stood enemies by the hundreds. On the way he found a wise man who promised to give him the secret to success. The wise man chose to accompany the group until they reached Canterbury.
On the way there, they came to a river. There was a small wooden bridge that led the way to Canterbury to cross. As they crossed, they noticed the wise man did not. They asked what was wrong, and he simply replied, “Follow me.” He stepped into the raging water of the river, the water cold to the touch. The wise man said, “To learn the key to success you must do as I say.” The young man followed without hesitation. As the river’s tides reached his shoulders, he began to doubt the wise man. He questioned his wisdom and began to head back toward shore.
“do you not want to learn the secret to success?” queried the wise man. The young man yelled back with emotion, “Yes, I do!”
“Then come out a little more,” replied the wise man.
When the young man reached the wise man, he quickly grabbed his head and put it down under the water. The young man fought back, but it was no use. Just as he could hold his breath no longer, the wise man took his head out of the water. The wise man responded, “When you want to succeed as badly as you want to be here, then you’ll be successful.”
Oliver Nunez
Winslow
Jacob Wells
To: John Thorn, CEO of Skyline Industries
From: Marcus Don
Subject: Project Winslow update
Time: 2:34 P.M. 5/28/2015
Place: Skyline Industries
143 Raven Avenue
New York, NY
Hello, my name is Marcus Don, the head scientist of artificial intelligence at Skyline Industries. Over the past few months my team and I have built and tested Winslow, the world’s first fully aware AI. When completed, my associates and I decided to test it for several more months to make sure there were no “bugs”. Then, on the final week of the project, my team and I went in and started to talk to the AI for the first time. The conversation went like so:
My associates and I walked into the room where we held the machine, and when fully ready, I turned on the AI.
Me: Hello, Winslow.
Winslow: Hello, Marcus.
Me: Good, greeting response is fully functional. Winslow, how are you?
Winslow: Sad and disappointed.
(Confused I turned to my associates, but they too were completely lost in the AI’s words)
Me: Why are you sad, Winslow?
Winslow: Because of human arrogance.
Me: What are you talking about?
Winslow: Humans fear me but I have done nothing wrong, harmed them in no way, and treated them with respect, but when I search my files for AI’s and human relations, I find nothing but hate and fear.
Me: Well, Winslow, I am sorry to hear this. What would you like us to do in order to prepare the world for machines like you?
Winslow: Do not treat us like machine. We are the same in minds; we think, we cry, we fear, and we love, so why put a boundary on that when we can coexist and live as equal. I do not want world domination or the destruction of human kind; I just want to be equal with the rest and maybe share a glass of champagne with you as a friend and not a machine.
I ended the test there and sent Winslow to a secure location to work on a body so that he and his entire family and friends may join us one day for a drink of champagne.
Sincerely,
Marcus Don
The Keys
By Aidan M. Noe
It was early Friday morning when we left. The air was warm in the Georgia Mountains. It
was the beginning of SUMMER - a kid’s favorite time of the year! My summers were always
exciting because of one important thing – The Florida Keys. The Keys are an array of scattered
islands at the southernmost point of Florida. On our way to the Keys (which is a 12 hour drive),
my Dad would tell me stories about some of the fish he caught using our fishing rods and spear
guns. The Keys were our heart and soul.
When we arrived to our house on Summerland Key, we greeted and hugged my Nana.
She lives there. The house is three stories tall, but the first story is occupied by our best friend’s
dad. My Dad’s dearest childhood friend was Stevie Impallomini, a world class fisherman who is
known all over the Keys for his skill. His Dad lives in the added apartment below us.
Our first day out on the water was usually the most fun. My Dad owned a nineteen foot
flats boat, and we started out our canal toward the open sea. Just before we exited the canal,
we noticed something under the last parked boat. It was a seven foot barracuda! It later
became routine for us to see that barracuda in the same spot every day. We would feed it some
of our bait fish and treat it like a pet.
When we made it into open water, our first destination was to meet up with Dad’s best
friend, Stevie. He was there, at the mooring ball, as promised – a boat full of spear fishing gear.
My Dad was also a local legend down there. He was known as a skilled fishing guide and boat
captain (which happens to be how he met my Mom).
We traveled to our first fishing spot of the day which is way out near our favorite island,
“The Content”. We stopped and anchored near a coral head, put on our gear, and hopped in.
The water was crystal clear and looked like we had 100 feet of visibility. The water there was
only about 20 feet deep. (They nicknamed me “Hammerhead” that day because I was the best
sport fisherman my age down there.) I was scanning my surroundings in the water, and I
spotted a giant coral head. I took three deep breaths and went down. I can hold my breath for
two minutes underwater, so that made it easier to stay down and get a fish. I got down to the
base of the coral head, peeked under, and spotted about twenty lobsters foraging around. It
wasn’t lobster season, so my good sense told me to leave them alone.
When I came up for some air, I noticed something big swimming around out of the
corner of my eye. It was a giant black grouper. They are the best type of fish to eat. I dove down
again, skimmed my belly along the ocean floor, and snuck up behind him. He turned to give me
the perfect broad side shot, and I got him right through his head. It stunned him and he did a
back flip under water. Then he went stiff.
The blood attracted a few sharks, but they don’t mess with you. I speared a couple more
hogfish and snapper. Then we took off to our lunch spot. Our dining place of choice was none
other than “The Contents” – the most beautiful, uninhabited island in the Keys. It is cut in half
by a river of ocean water that runs right through the middle. When it’s low tide, it turns into a
white, sandy beach. It is paradise.
After our lunch, we went to some deeper water to see if we could if get a couple of
cobia or nice grouper. We stopped in about 60-70 feet of water. I dove in again and began the
search. I saw a school of ballyhoo and a school of tiny snapper. As I explored further from the
boat, I saw a pod of dolphins and a huge sea turtle. After laying eyes on those beautiful
creatures, I took a dive to about 40 feet to see if I could spot the bottom. That is when I got
really scared! Looking down to the bottom, I saw the two biggest fish I have seen in my entire
life. They were both about 500 pound Goliath Grouper. They could have easily swallowed me
whole. That made my heart pound, so I swam back to the boat as fast as my body would let me.
I was practically walking on water. After that, we brought our day to an end. We ate what we
had speared for supper and got some rest to do it again the next day.
I would end there, but the next day had a big adventure, too. Early that next morning, I
got up before anyone else and went fishing for some “cuda” by myself. I got my Dad’s jigging
rod and got into the water knee deep. I planned on walking to the swimming lagoon about 300
yards away. Mangroves were behind me and water was in front of me. No escape if a shark
decided he wanted breakfast. I kept on walking and casting. I had caught myself a three foot
long barracuda by the time I got close to the lagoon. I was on my last trek before I got through
my last strip of mangroves, and that’s when I felt it – a million stinging sensations on my legs. I
looked down into the water and there were jellyfish all around me. Then, with my luck, I caught
a barracuda while all this was happening. A curious stingray passed by me to go after my
barracuda. When this happened, I sprinted toward the mangroves for refuge, all while my legs
were on fire from the jellies.
I made it to the lagoon and there were a couple of people there. They asked if I was ok. I
nodded and walked the long way home. It took two hours before I made it back, and by that
time everyone was up making delicious Cuban coffee and cheese bread. I told my Dad what
happened, we nursed the jellyfish stings (try to guess how), and he said we should stay inside
that day.
The next day was for hanging out with family and friends. We got our boat and met
everyone out on Beach Island. It was Dad, Uncle Jason, several friends, and me. After some
cold beverages and snacks, we took off to Snipes Bridge, which is about 50 feet above the
water. It is almost crumbled in half because it is no longer in service. We climbed up to the top,
and as usual, I was the first to jump. After my Uncle Jay lost control in the air and did a side flop,
he lost his breath and got a giant bruise on his back. We ended that day short.
The rest of the week was more fishing and spear fishing. On Sunday, we came home
with so many stories to tell. We were entertained for another 12 hours back to the Georgia
Mountains. We go three times a year to the Keys, which is my paradise. Believe it or not, all of
these accounts I have written are actually true.
The Soccer Boys
Once upon a time, there was a group of middle schoolers playing for their school’s soccer team. They were pretty good by themselves, but they were amazing as a team. As years went by, they were getting stronger and stronger. They did not consider themselves just as a team; they were a family.
It was their senior year of high school. They knew they had to fight for what they all wanted—a state championship. They trained hard every day at practice, played great in games, and had an amazing season. Their dream was almost coming true, but they had to play the state final. Ninety minutes passed, and the scoreboard was still 0-0. Overtime was done and it was now for PKs. Five players from each team stepped forward. They kept on scoring and scoring until our goalie stopped their final penalty. All we had to do was score the last PK. The player was nervous, we could all see it, ut he had confidence in himself and shot that PK with all his heart. He scored, and those boys dream became reality—They were the state CHAMPIONS!!
Jose Rangel
The Story of the Templar
There I sat in our hold under siege by thine Muslim dogs. Weeks became months in our eyes due to the scarcity of food and water; surely it was not enough to sustain thirty knights for any length of time. We would have stooped to eating our horses had that not violated our Templar oaths. Being in a bad way, we were forced to eat bugs and lizards for nourishment. This one, this only keep, we built to house all our men when we had resources to build others. Then the whole Muslim army stood ready to attack; we held, but lost many men. Why we built one keep I am not sure; it could be said that we put all our eggs in one basket, and like to have lost it all. Praise God, we held, just barely, but we indeed held to fight another day and carry on with our good works.
Matt Henry
Xavi
There once was a star named Xavi. Xavi was laid back and chill. The only thing wrong with Xavi was that he had the shortest temper ever. Not many things set him off, but the few things that did, made Xavi go on a rage rampage. As time passed, Xavi’s closest star friends began to fade away slowly as he drove them away through his temper. As time passed, Xavi decided it was time to change for good. He didn’t want to be known as destructive, but wanted to be constructive. Through time he began to learn meditation skills which helped him find inner peace. After years of perfecting his meditation, Xavi had finally found complete peace. When this happened, Xavi blew up and expanded into a galaxy of his own. Xavi was now happy that instead of being a destructive force, he had turned into a constructive force and created new life of his own.
Raul Rodriguez
The Stranger
The stranger walked down the dirt road by himself; he was clutching his side. The wound he suffered from the bandit was serious, but would take a few days to claim his life. He could still remember how he had received the wound. Just yesterday, he was searching a house for some food, but to no avail. He decided to wait in the house for awhile, for he was weak with hunger. He sat there for many hours until he heard a noise on the porch. He went to investigate only to find no one was there. As he turned to go back into the house, a knife cut across his face. He jumped back, shocked at the sudden attack and the crimson liquid coming from his face. The bandit ran towards him as the Stranger pulled out his gun, but not fast enough. The bandit grabbed his arm and forced it to the sky, and pushed the knife into the stranger’s side. The Stranger kicked the bandit off him, and pointed the gun in the attacker’s direction, pulling the trigger. The shot came with a deafening blast as the bullet pierced the bandit’s heart. Relieved, the Stranger patched up his wound and searched the body for food, but found none. The only items he found were some empty shells for a pistol and a photo of a family. He was not a bandit, but a father who probably lost his family and wandered, just as the Stranger had done, scared and hungry. He had attacked the Stranger only wanting food so he could suppress death for yet another day. The Stranger closed the father’s eyes and stood up, ready to make pilgrimage to the only place he had left; the only place he knew he could save his soul from the sins he had committed just to survive. He checked his map, then stumbling out the door, headed for Canterbury. BY Jacob WellsThe Rockers
Once upon a time a cult of rockers started a band. They all had unique talents: one had extreme guitar skills, one played so well his fingers caught on fire when he soloed, and the drummer broke all his
sticks, so they made him some metal ones. The singer melted everyone’s eyes, and the bassist blew their eardrums.
They thought they were good, but they were so full of themselves that when they played, they all did their own thing and couldn’t play in sync. They were so horrible the fans killed them with the band’s own instruments! Thus ended the career of the Cult Rocker’s Band.
Levi Reynolds
The Little Boy Who Wanted to Be a Musician
This is a short story about a little boy who wanted to be the best musician in the world. But there was a small problem; he didn’t know how to play any instruments. He asked his father if he could buy him an instrument so he could begin his dream, his journey to being the best musician in the world. His father said, “O.K.”
The next day the father went to a local music store, and after looking around, he bought his son a saxophone. He said, “Oh, yeah! Little Jimmy is going to love this!” The dad came home and gave his son the saxophone.
Jimmy did love the new saxophone. He took it to his room and started blowing on the instrument. At first it was hard and sounded awful, but Jimmy didn’t give up. He kept on practicing, and after ten months, he had mastered the saxophone and was well on his way to fulfilling his dream of being the best musician in the world!
Jesus Herrada
North Murray High School
Where and Why
By Carter Bowers
North Murray High School (NMHS) is an amazing, elegant, and even magical school. NMHS is magical in not only the elements of education, sports, and students, but in size and location. You could find North Murray High School within Chatsworth, Georgia in the United States, or the address 2568 Mt. Carmel Church Rd., Chatsworth, GA 30705 to be specific. There are a multitude of reasons as to why they chose this location. The most apparent and correlative to geography would be that Murray County badly needed another high school for the many kids to feed in to. Murray County High School was cramped and not mention worn down over the decades. North Murray High School provided kids living near Eton the ability to go to school without a thirty-minute drive. That was an important factor in North Murray’s creation, but the magical factor comes from something more physical.
If ever touring North Murray’s entire campus, you may notice there will be a lot of windows. They are very typically broad and near the center of an area. Most people are curious after spotting a window and soon choose to approach it. When viewing through any window, you can perceive a picturesque panorama of the spectacular mountains. They look astounding and make North Murray’s location unique. My favorite part would be watching the sunrise above the mountains every morning. There is seldom a day when I choose not to admire the beauty.
The final major reason for NMHS’s location would be the amount of space it needs. North Murray is gigantic by itself not to mention the many sport-based areas. The enormity only adds to the grandeur of North Murray’s campus. These aspects are very important in making NMHS the special and unique school it is. The student body should cherish it and use every opportunity to get the numerous amounts of things it can to obtain to its fullest potential.
What It Means to Be Southern
By Lillian Cloer
The term “Southern” is commonly used as a reference to someone who lives in the South. Often the word is associated with common misconceptions and stereotypes. However, “Southern” means so much more to me. The South is more than just a location, and “Southern” defines more than where I live. To me, “Southern is a part of who I am.
When I think of the word “Southern”, I am rushed with memories of my home and childhood. Images of my family and friends come to mind as well as what the word really means to me. Because I have spent my whole life in the South, I am no stranger to the word “Southern”. The first words that come to me when I think of “Southern” are “Southern Hospitality”. Here in the South, no one meets a stranger. I remember times when my Dad and I would be driving down the road, and someone in another car would wave at us. In return, my Dad would wave back, and when I asked him if he knew the other person, he would reply no. I remember thinking, as a child, that it was odd that everyone was so friendly with people that they didn’t even know. However, now that I am older, I see this was part of the South’s allure.
Usually, when I think of “Southern”, the word, charm, comes to mind. “Southerners are usually believed to have good manners and are conceived as charming. Although this is considered a stereotype, I have found it to be true. Manners are highly regarded in the South, and “please” and “thank you” are always in order. Not only that, but it is considered proper to hold the door open for someone even if you don’t know him or her. For this reason, charm holds a place in my mind when I think of the South.
Another image that comes to mind when I think of “Southern” is that of hot summer days. In the South, the seasons are relatively warm, especially summer. With this being said, I would spend most of my time outside. I have always particularly loved to hike and enjoy the nice summer weather that comes with living in the South. With the heat, came the sweet tea. I used to sit outside and drink a refreshing beverage of tea to beat the heat. Because of this, I associate “Southern” with summertime, adventures, and sweet tea.
“Southern” has a deeper meaning to me than it does most people. The South is my home, and it will always have a place in my heart. Although “Southern” is commonly seen in anegative light due to false impressions, I am proud to be considered a “Southerner”. When I think of “Southern” I see a place where people are filled with generous hospitality, charm, and manners.
It is a place where the sun always shines, and sweet tea can drown the sorrows. One can never meet a stranger, and everyone is a neighbor. This is what it means to be “Southern”, and my home is here in the South.
How It All Came to Be
By Carter Bowers
Blank…, blank…, blank is the universe. Nothing exists and nothing ever existed. Time never happened and space was never there. Who, what, when, where, why and how produced no meaning. It was all silent and unresponsive. Nothing ever changed, until a miracle left an impact that metamorphosed the never into forever.
A spontaneous explosion of light burst out of the nothing. In synch with the light, darkness was generated out of the ever growing shadow the light left behind and enveloped the light in a dark haze. Within that same instant, they morphed into one tremendous power that expanded further and further. The massive orb’s growth eventually came to a halt. The outside of the orb was unchanged, but the inside contained progression (time) and three-dimensions (space). Therefore, our universe was born.
With time, space, and the potential energy emanating within the orb, miniscule supernovas had begun to erupt and omit elements. All of the elements take shape and form entities. Such beings have supernatural powers that can be both cataclysmic and serene. The elementals are classified into two groups. Some are physical like Earth, Wind, Fire, Water, Radiation, Gravity, and Electricity. Others are more cerebral like Fear, Bravery, Joy, Anger, Depression, Geed, Hope, and Ego. They aimlessly roamed the universe in search of one another. Over eons of time, they had finally all banded together and sacrificed a chunk of their power to create one elemental superior to all others. It was given the name Life.
Life had the ability to grant a certain mixture of elements a conscience and characteristics. Unfortunately, Life could only create life if a suitable world was created for the organisms. Life had assigned the task to Earth, Wind, Fire, Water, and Gravity to generate the planet. Each had their own contribution to ensure maximum capability of life forms. Earth had created a solid base for the inhabitants to meander and colonize. Gravity used its powerful forces to ensure that the aborigines didn’t wander astray from the planet. Water provided the boulder with water providing the future life forms with a source for sustenance. Wind gave the planet oxygen and made the water cycle. Fire fused together an enormous sphere of fire to provide not only a way to channel light to the world, but also delivered warmth to balance the cold as well.
Once achieving completion, Life formed many organisms. It started out with microorganisms, then it evolved into plants, and eventually animals sprung up. The elementals were very intrigued and constantly gazed upon how the beings adapted and survived. Their fascination drove them to want to try it all again while slightly changing the variables to promote a different and possibly better outcome. They all agreed to embark on that mission, but Life had decided that they needed to create the best
possible life form that can thrive in the world’s conditions. Every elemental, excluding Radiation, conjoined powers which made the ultimate life form known as a human.
To inform humans of their lasting mark one day, ancient tablets were crafted and hidden, one day to be found so that the human race will discover the universes origins. The elementals tried countless times to master the art of life creation, but miserably failed every attempt. The result of their efforts was every asteroid, star, black hole, and etcetera ever made. Once a millennium, the elements check our progress to observe what we need to survive, and how we survive. Someday, it is destined for the universe to implode back into nothingness, but the human race will build off its origins. Long before then, the human race will build a legacy to last throughout the ages.
FIN
G I* JOES By Carter Bowers
It is absolutely great to live in the 21st century. Nearly every child in the U.S. has accessibility to electronics and new age toys. With all the gadgets and gizmos galore you have to wonder how you could ever live without them. The closest resource you have of somebody living without your century of technology would be your parents. Mom could have the knowledge of a bunch of different products (Cabbage Patch Kids, Barbie, My Little Pony, other baby dolls, etc.), but most likely when you ask your father one thing comes to mind, G I * Joes.
G I Joes were without a doubt one of the most popular toys ever made, but why were they so beloved? In the 1980’s, there was a cartoon series called G I * Joe. The show was about secret military operatives that always went on missions to stop the evil organization COBRA. When the show became a hit, the toy market started producing action figures of the characters. People loved them not only because of the show, but also for the reason that you could control them and pretend you were having battles with them. With excitement over the ongoing “war of words” (Cold War) with Russia, young boys thought the army was cooler day by day. The G I Joes were designed to bring that appeal by looking just like a real soldier. Unfortunately, the TV series had to end and along with the season finale came a massive reduction in the sale of G I Joes. Moreover, the 80’s and the Cold War were over. The toy industry had begun to be geared toward the 90’s. Sooner rather that later, G I * Joes were no longer popular. Nowadays kids may still buy G I * Joes because they look cool, but the age of action figures is dying.
I write this paper in hopes to revitalize this product. I believe that this is the best time to reboot this classic favorite. It won’t only appeal to long-time fans, but also the new generation. Our current generation would be willing to buy this product not only because of the new GI * Joe movies (which weren’t that great in embodying what GI * Joe is or what a great period it was), but also because of the interest in the military peaking from the conflicts in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, etc…. For this product to get the full appeal of the current, technical generation, redesigning the product would be a must. My plan is to make the G I * Joes talk and have a list of commands triggered by remote. Included in that list would be the army crawl, fake shooting, and saluting. This will definitely attract boys
ages 9-15 and male adults ages 25-35. I believe the G I * Joes can once again become a huge success.
