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I M P

R E S

S

S I O

N DePaul Literary Magazine

2014-2015

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IMPRESSIONS

Consultants

Editor

Staff

Editor’s Note

Creating art is one of the most trying processes an individual can ex-

perience. There is no dictionary that can translate a person’s inner-

most feelings and convictions into a tangible model. It is up to the

artist to find a medium to express themselves, and then force that

medium to morph into something that reflects their unique reality.

When looking at art, whether it is a painting, a photograph, or a story,

the observer is given the amazing gift of a glimpse into that artists’

soul. There are many beautiful souls at DePaul as reflected by the

creations this club was honored to collect and display in this book. As

this edition of the Literary Magazine came together, I think I can

speak for myself and the dedicated staff, when I say that we were

touched at the effort and creativity that went into all the art we re-

ceived. It is truly a privilege to work with the student body in this

close and personal way.

A heartfelt thank you to the students who trusted this club with their

art, to Mrs. Sullivan for being the guardian angel of this endeavor, to

Ms. Johnson who has become indispensable, and to Mr. Tweed

whose vision and foresight sparked the rebirth of this club. I will al-

ways be grateful for this experience, which allowed me to meet fel-

low students I have come to admire, to work with teachers who have

become my mentors outside the 50 minutes of the activity period,

and to learn even more ways that DePaul is the place to be.

Alexandra Collado

Editor in Chief

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title

Along the Blackened Road………………………………………………………………

Oh My Dear Grandma…………………………………………………………………….

An Embraced Self……………………………………………………………………………

Love………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Dear Jen………………………………………………………………………………………….

Grandma………………………………………………………………………………………..

An Excerpt “From Me to You”…………………………………………………………

Poem by Dom Corio………………………………………………………………………

A Poem by Kaitlyn Fersh…………………………………………………………………

Finally Free……………………………………………………………………………………..

I Love Puggies…………………………………………………………………………………

An Excerpt from “Back to Oz”…………………………………………………………

If…………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Unfinished-The Entertainer of the Golden………………………………………

Write a Poem About Me………………………………………………………………..

An Ode to Simplicity………………………………………………………………………

The Wedding Morning…………………………………………………………………..

A Poem by Alex Buttitta…………………………………………………………………

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title

Elegy………………………………………………………………………………………………

The Love of a Father……………………………………………………………………….

Dear Dictator………………………………………………………………………………….

Mental Mary…………………………………………………………………………………..

Anonymous…………………………………………………………………………………….

Dreams…………………………………………………………………………………………..

Elegy Poem……………………………………………………………………………………

Give to Me……………………………………………………………………………………..

Imperfections………………………………………………………………………………….

My Only Wish…………………………………………………………………………………

Painting………………………………………………………………………………………….

Pretty……………………………………………………………………………………………..

Hide and Seek…………………………………………………………………………………

Ode to City Life……………………………………………………………………………….

Poem by Jamie Haas……………………………………………………………………….

Poem by Brianna Rizo…………………………………………………………………….

I Watch…………………………………………………………………………………………..

Fall of Nature………………………………………………………………………………….

A Poem by Hailey McGlynn…………………………………………………………….

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title

Under Your Boot Soles…………………………………………………………………….

A Poem by Brianna Rizzo………………………………………………………………..

Minds……………………………………………………………………………………………..

The One that Walked Away…………………………………………………………….

An Excerpt from “An Idea”……………………………………………………………..

An Excerpt from “Queen Annabelle?”…………………………………………….

The Shielded Bird……………………………………………………………………………

The Girl with the Fake Green Eyes…………………………………………………..

An Ode to Friendship………………………………………………………………………

A Poem by Erica Lisa……………………………………………………………………….

A Poem by Alex Buttitta………………………………………………………………….

Too Far to Reach……………………………………………………………………………..

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Along the Blackened Road

I walk along the blackened road

Just blind to the world

My shadow falls behind me

With the darkness unfurled

The goal is just beyond

Those dark and cloudy skies

Where the future is bright

And the gold bird just flies

As I walk along the blackened road

In the distance creeps the past

Tis what I was broken from

Just catching on me fast

The goal is just beyond

Those dark and cloudy skies

Where the future is bright

And the gold bird just flies

Austin J. Doby

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Oh My Dear Grandma

By Vanessa Bi

Love, my only love in the world;

What you gave me, I want to use my whole life to hold.

Eleven years, care, teach, inspire, encourage,

Affected my life, led me to a new page.

O, how many times you appear in my dreams

Will I wake again? Shout, cry, and scream.

To ask the angel, could you let my love live again?

If no more chances, let the soul get a colorful life again

Not more like before, carriage is slow, letter is slow, and the sunset is slow;

Me and my precious memories are passed in casual and never glowing

For those who lose their loved ones, heartbreak is painful;

Open your mind and enhance a life which is colorful and wonderful!

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An Embrace of Self

By N. M.

In the event of sorrow and despair,

What is it that makes us who we are?

Is it our possessions, the people in our lives, the mundane things we call

our own?

Because in the event of sorrow and despair, we must embrace ourselves.

It is by virtue of one’s very character

That we can defy the odds.

And rise above any circumstances.

It is through an embrace of personal power that we can be one with our-

selves

And then one with another.

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Love

I think I’m in love with a girl named Peggy Lee

She has no idea what a beauty she could be

With her mousy hair and crooked nose

And her subtle lisp that surely shows

Would never lead her to expect

A consideration of being my prospect

But oh, her smiles so rare and so few

They have no idea of the miracles they could do

If your heart was broken, her smile could mend it

If you needed love, her smile could send it

Within those scattered sightings of her pearly grin

Comes an unfurling understanding that has yet to begin

She has no interest in diamonds, or flowers, or swooning lovers at night

Or perfumes, or poems that fill most women with delight

She only desires pure and absolute acceptance

And with that statement you can comprehend her entire essence

I’m definitely in love with a girl named Peggy Lee

She now knows what a beauty she could be

- N.S.

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Taylor Decker

Dear Jen

“Jen!” A deep voice screamed from across the room. I turned to see my boss, Mr. Paul, with his bull-

dog-like face all red, as usual, standing in the doorway of his office. “Something came in for you. It’s on

your desk.” Mr. Paul was always trying to be scary because he didn’t look it and he thought it was the on-

ly way we would respect him. He waddled back into his office and shut the door. I smiled at his predicta-

bility and walked to the office with bold black letters that spelled out my name and title: Head Detective

Jennifer Holden.

A paper bag sat on my desk with an envelope attached to it. I pulled off the envelope and unsealed it.

Inside, was a letter, written in shaky handwriting. I sat at my desk and began to read.

Dear Jen,

I had nothing to lose. Everything was gone, nothing was left for me. That’s why I did it.

Jeremy and I were married 7 years last month. He was an amazing writer. He liked nonfiction and con-

troversial subjects. He was known for doing research for months before he wrote anything down. That’s

one reason why I loved him. The other was he never chose his work over Liam and me. We were too im-

portant to him. He was funny. He had these sunglasses that, he thought, made him look cool. They were

so dorky. They always made Liam and I laugh. Jeremy would tell us to stop but that would just make us

laugh harder.

Liam always laughed. He just turned five years old. He, also, just learned how to make spit balls and

things like that. He looked like his father, deep green eyes, brown hair, and a very handsome face. Unfor-

tunately, they knew that. I almost always found him and Jeremy pretending to be athletes and models.

That night, Liam wanted to be around Jeremy more than anything but Jeremy was working on the final

chapters of his latest book. Liam started throwing pencils and spit balls with a straw. He started yelling

and screaming, to the point that Jeremy came running down the stairs. I told him that Liam was just upset

because he lost his favorite racecar on the way to school that morning.

No matter what I did, I couldn’t appease him. After what seemed like forever, I stormed out. Jere-

my came down and took Liam and I walked out of the house.

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I just went for a walk. I wasn’t leaving them, I just wanted to take a walk. If I was leaving, I would’ve

taken the car. They knew that. They had to have known that.

When I returned, a familiar figure was in my front lawn. A puff of smoke came from its face that was

looking at the house. A glowing cigarette began the short fall from the figure’s hand to the ground.

When it hit the grass, the glow grew to a flame and that flame began toward my house. My eyes wid-

ened as the flame grew brighter, bigger, and closer to my house. I stood there frozen, unable to decide if

I wasn’t able to move or this was all happening in slow motion.

I finally got my feet to leave the ground and began to run toward the house. I didn’t know what I

could do but the knowledge of Jeremy and Liam inside the house kept logic away. I knocked over the fig-

ure, forcing it into the ground face first. As I tripped over the body the flame roared into a full fire, swal-

lowing my house and turning the night on my front lawn to a horrifying day.

As I looked up at the flames, my heart, my stomach, and my mind disappeared. I can’t tell you if they

sunk or were in my throat. I don’t know where they went.

Finally, after a moment, I was able to scream. I turned around to see the face of the figure, clearly lit

by the flames. My eyes widened. I had no idea how to respond to the face I saw. I thought I was going

to be sick. I turned back and forth between the flames and the face until I was dizzy.

The figure tried to get up but I grabbed its ear and pulled it back down as hard as I could manage.

After feeling something in my hand, I blacked out.

When I woke up, I was in the hospital, still clenching the thing I had pulled from the figure. The memo-

ries of the fire, my family, and the figure came back. I wanted to confirm my fears of exactly who the fig-

ure was. I brought my fist into my vision. I took a deep breath and slowly pried open my own hand.

When the object came into view, I screamed and threw the little gold “E” at the wall.

I got out of the bed and walked over to the door. I picked up the earring again, gathered my anger,

and left the room. I checked out of the hospital. Then, drove to my sister’s rental.

My sister lived on the opposite side of the country. She came to visit and rented a small cottage just

outside the state park.

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I ran inside to find my sister changing a light bulb. When she saw me, her eyes widened. When she

saw me hold up the earring, she dropped the light bulb she was using, shattering it, and began to run.

I chased her around the cottage until she locked herself in a closet. I tried to pick the lock with a

bobby pin, to no avail. I took the gun off the wall and shot the lock.

I opened the door to see my sister, Ema, lying on the ground holding her hand. She must’ve been

holding the door closed as I unlocked it, because the bullet went through her hand.

I took a tissue and wiped down the gun. I didn’t care what happened to her next. I knew what I was

going to do. Either way, I would never know if she was dead or alive. I left her there, got in my car, and

drove to the bridge.

I had nothing to lose. So, I jumped.

My eyes widened at the last line. I ran out of my office and gathered as many people as I could at

the last moment.

“Check cottages outside the state park.” I pointed to half of the cops I had gathered. “The rest,

check bridges and rivers around the area.” Mr. Paul walked out of his office then. “When did that

come in?”

“It was hand delivered only a few minutes before you came.” He said.

We all ran out of the building. I drove to the bridge nearest the police station. There I found a

women standing on the railing of the bridge.

“Kathy.” I said carefully.

She turned around and faced me, turned her back to the water below.

“Are they magically alive?” She asked.

I couldn’t answer. I lowered my head because I saw the report of the house fire. They were both

inside and they never came out. Kathy stepped back as I got word that Ema was gone too.

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Grandma

- Courtney Nilssen

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An Excerpt from Joe Santillo’s short story:

From Me to You

January 12, 2008

“Today is the big day. My birthday! The big 10! Double digits! I can’t believe

that it’s finally here! I’ve been waiting all my life to become an age with double digits!

I wish my dad was here though, just like I wished he was here for all of my other birth-

days. But that’s okay. I wish I could meet him. It was my birthday wish to hear from

him today and ever since I could remember! Maybe I’ll hear from him one day, or

even be able to meet him. My mommy says that he’s on a really important business

trip. Maybe he’s a secret agent! That would be so cool! I wonder when he will come

home to meet me... Hopefully soon. I love him”

I remember writing that 5 years ago today, just a little something I wrote the day of

my birthday. And just like every year, my birthday wish was the same as it is today. Only

now, I know I’ll never get to meet my father. Dennis Williams was his name. My mom

had to tell me where my father really was a couple months after my 11th birthday. She

couldn’t keep it from me any longer, I was starting to catch on.

I was crushed. When I learned what had happened to my father, I was devastated,

but in a weird way, I was even more proud. Her exact words really stuck with me, and

still trigger some emotions. She looked at me, and with a tear in her eye, she said, “Your

dad … he died a war hero”. I’ll never forget that moment. Although I never met him, I

always felt so attached to him, like I was his little boy, and one day he would come home

to me.

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My mom still cries for him occasionally. She tells me their story of how they first

met all the time whenever I ask about him. She never gets tired of telling it, and I

never get tired of hearing it. She always said they had this saying that went “evol

ym reverof dna syawla”. It was “always and forever my love”, backwards. I

thought it was cute. It seems that my mom and dad were the definition of love, to-

gether since they were 15.

He was killed in Afghanistan a few days before I was born. My father, Lieu-

tenant Williams, was set up with his platoon in a broken down building in some

city over there. While keeping watch over a hoard of Afghan soldiers a few miles

away, his platoon was attacked. The Afghanis rushed into the building from the

bottom, through all entrances to reach the American platoon on the roof. My dad

and his soldiers were outnumbered, and the reality was that he would die along

with the rest of his platoon. That seemed to be what would happen, but my father

was a hero, just like my mom had said. My dad was the first to meet the herd of

Afghanis. He killed four of the first rushing soldiers while being shot three times

in the process. Then, being the hero he died as, he charged down the stairs at two

approaching suicide bombers, tackling them down the stairs. When the bombs

went off, he along with 12 other Afghanis lost his life. By doing this, he saved his

platoon, and they were able to push back the rest of the attacking soldiers. My fa-

ther was the reason that 20 men kept their lives that day, allowing them to move

forward and take prisoner the hoard of Afghanis that stood a few miles away.

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My father was rewarded the Medal of Honor for his act of heroism, and I look at

it every day now as it hangs on the wall in my room. I’m honored to tell people

who my father was, and what he did. I know I’ll never get to meet my father, but

I wish I could just get the chance to shake his hand, and thank him, and tell him

how much I love him.

I woke up this morning to a bag at the foot of my bed with a post-it pasted

on the side. It read, “I’ve wanted to give this to you for 15 years, here it is. Love,

Mom”. It was a basic gift bag, big enough to hold maybe a new pair of shoes.

But what could she be giving me now that she’s been wanting to give me my

whole life? Certainly not a pair of shoes, she bought me a new pair for my birth-

day.

I walked over to the bag, and looked inside.

What is all this stuff? The bag contained a pack of gum, two silly straws,

some baby book, a pair of sunglasses, a lightbulb, a pack of tissues, a pencil, a

toy racecar, a bullet, an earring, and a bobby pin. This looked like a bunch of

useless pieces of junk my mom threw together as a joke. Was this a joke? It had

to be. I put the bag on my dresser, and got dressed.

I went out with my friends for a good amount of the day and completely

forgot about the bag full of junk. When I came back home and saw it on my

dresser where I left it, I just stood there and stared at it. I was baffled as to why

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my mom would go through the trouble to put these things in a bag for me when

I could find it all in my house. I still didn’t even know what I needed those

things for in the first place!

I waited all day for my mom to get home so I could ask her what all these

things were. When she finally got home I asked her.

“Oh! I almost forgot the most important part! I was supposed to give it to

you separately, but it slipped my mind. Here.”

She pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. On the front of the enve-

lope was my name, Jason. It was pretty nice handwriting, but I didn’t recognize

it to be my mom’s or anyone’s handwriting that I knew. I took the envelope,

staring at my name on the envelope as I walked up to my room.

I sat on my bed with the bag, and the envelope. I laid the contents of the

bag on my bed, and stared hard at my name again on the envelope. What was I

about to open? This couldn’t be anything serious. I still thought it was a joke!

I opened the envelope, to a letter.

January 8, 1998

Hey son,

If you are reading this, I’ve passed away before I got to see you. I wanted to

make sure there was some way I could talk to you, father to son. As I’m writing

this, you only have a few more days until you join us in a new life! My little man.

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I had your mom keep this letter until the day you turned 15 so you can really

appreciate it. I’m sure you’re growing into a great young man my son, and I’m sor-

ry I couldn’t be there through it all. Just know that I am over you now, watching

every little thing you do! I’ll always be here, as your guardian, helping you through

everything you encounter day to day. I love you my man, more than I could love an-

ything in this world. You were my motivation for everything I’ve done… I really

wanted to make you proud… I hope I have.

Well, being that I’m not around for you, I want to take this time and talk to

you about things a father should talk about with his son. You’re 15 now, and son,

the world is yours. Do everything you can while you can, and enjoy every minute of

it. Live life on your own terms, and never regret anything. Make mistakes, learn

from them and use them to turn yourself into a strong man. I know you will. Make

lasting relationships, and be an honest, true man. It will carry you a long ways.

Although this doesn’t account for all the years I’ve missed, I feel better now

that I know you will hear from me…….

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I remember seeing you every day, with a smile on your face

Wishing me a warm hello, sharing a hug to give your embrace

Not a day goes by that I don’t miss you

That will never change

It’s hard to move on without your love,

It is a concept to me that is so strange,

However, I’m glad you’re not suffering

Your barely beating heart is at rest

God broke our hearts to prove to us

He only takes the absolute best.

By Dom Coiro

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Farwell my friend, to the great days we had

Although since you left I am very sad

We laughed, we sung

great answers we sought

Oh, what fond memories these things have brought

A great amount of tears I have shed

How I miss the days when you were by my side

Remember the days that we toiled and labored

And the warm summer days when we ran with such

gust

Remember the days when we ran with such gust

Our competition we would always leave in the dust

These days I will remember for you were heaven

sent

But for now, in this moment, I will honor you with

this lament.

By: Kaitlyn Fersch

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“Finally Free”

Written by T. W.

Goodbye grandpa, for your battle

Is finally done.

After all of the fighting, you

Have won.

5 years ago, our lives

Changed forever,

That day is one that I wish

I would not remember.

I do not know how to accept

That you are gone,

But it’s easier to understand that

The pain did not drag on.

Seeing you that way, made me realize

What life is all about.

Life is about helping someone,

Even when there is doubt.

Cancer has ended your life and

Time here on earth,

But it will never take away everything

You were worth.

All I can say after all you had

Done for me,

Goodbye grandpa, you are finally free

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I love Puggies

Fat and beautiful

Black noses brown fur

Sniff sniff weeze weeze

I hear the puggies coming for me

So short and so cute

Big eyes that shine

Wrinkles with a twinkle

And legs that can’t swim

Puggies are so lovable

But they should probably hit the gym

I love puggies

I love them so much

They fill my heart with love

By: Jacqueline McDonald

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An Excerpt from Alisa Scivetti’s :“Back to Oz”

There came a time in my life when I said “… if I ever go looking for my heart’s desires

again, I shouldn’t look any further than my own backyard.” Well in time things change, and

my heart’s desire became the longing for the companionship I had in Oz. When going back

home I was left with no one. My aunt had died, Toto shortly after, and I found myself long-

ing for my heart’s desires once again. And in this time these desires could not be satisfied

within the walls of my backyard. I needed to find a away back to the happiness and adven-

ture I found within the boundaries of Oz. My heart ached for years after I returned and I

could not fathom being without the family I had made in Oz. The lion’s courage, the Tin

man’s heart, and the Scarecrow’s intelligence all envelops different walks of life I had no

idea I would see. They left lasting impressions on me and I could not impend my journey any

longer. I packed up a small bag of things I might need on my journey and set off to get my

red shoes. A wise woman told me that if I clicked my heels and held in my heart my most

desired place I could get there in the blink of an eye. And with just that in my heart, I

stepped outside into the old flower meadow. I picked up a pink flower, put it in my basket

and closed my eyes. In one celerity breath I whispered, “There is no place like home”, with

baited breath, I opened my eyes, and there I found myself back on the coveted yellow brick

road. The road I was so scared to travel on had become my home. I opened up my basket

and there was the pink flower, I pulled it out and laid it softly on the ground. It would be my

last reminder of home and one object that solidified my travel. I had really made it back.

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My search began with seeking out the Scarecrow. I knew his presence would be somewhere

prestigious. With his new intelligence I knew I could come across him merely by travelling

down the yellow brick road with my body taut and my eyes piercing. Without even walking

for a few minutes I heard a voice behind me, it was intellectually beckoning and peculiar. Up-

on turning around I was shocked at the sight to be seen. My Scarecrow was looking down on

me, like some sort of figment of his imagination. “Who are you child?” he said as if truly not

remembering me. I could not help but laugh at his nonsensical comment and replied “You

must have given your brain back Scarecrow, how could you possibly forget who I am?” He

again looked down on me as if he felt higher in power then I. Again I spit another remark.

“Truly Scarecrow you’ve lost your mind.” Before I could roll my eyes any further he ripped me

into his arms and embraced me so tightly I felt as if I was in another twister. He finally re-

leased me, and just in time because at any moment I might have slipped into a coma. “Why …

How… But I thought you… Dorothy you’re back.” He finally managed to let out the words his

brain had been processing since the moment he saw me. “I did not believe it was truly you

Dorothy, I have hoped for this day since you left. I have so much to tell you but if I were to sit

you down I would need a lifetime.” I could see tears welling up in his eyes. “Well Scarecrow, a

lifetime I will give you, I am continuing my life here… with you, Lion, and Tin man. You guys

are my real family.” He looked at me so blankly and began rambling. “Slow down” I yelled at

him “please speak slower.” And that’s when I was able to understand what he meant by he

had so much to tell me. After receiving their gifts from the Wizard, the once best friends drift-

ed apart. The Scarecrows intelligence made him look down upon the Tin man’s stupidity to

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to want love. Scarecrow ‘s intelligence made him see the pain that love carries and how

love blinds even the strongest of people. He and Tin man fought so much Lion could not

take it. His immense courage ruined his friendship with both Scarecrow and Tin man when

he decided to involve himself. In trying to become mediator he hurt both Tin man and

Scarecrow with the courage to tell the truth. In not even realizing he broke his friends

hearts he pompously roamed away and was never seen by them again. As for the fight be-

tween them, Scarecrows intelligence lead him to believe he could not fight with stupid and

so he left Tin man, with a broken heart, alone. I didn’t know what hurt the most, knowing

my companions had been torn apart by their own selfish desires or the fact that my own

desires lead me to leave, when possibly they all needed me the most.

In much convincing, Scarecrow finally decided to embark on a journey to find the

other two. I feared that his higher than thou thinking would convey an image I knew Scare-

crow was not. His intelligence masked his inner self and even he decided that he would give

his smarts back if he could. It caused him nothing but trouble and he found himself alone in

the forest once again. He found himself in the darkest places within himself he thought he

would never return to. Scarecrow’s intelligence harmed him more than it actually aided

him, and albeit he surpassed the mental capacity of anyone else in Oz all he longed for now

were the friends who wanted him without his knowledge. It was the constant desires in life

that harmed him. He wanted to be happy, and to him being happy was having a brain.

When truly being happy was having friends who loved you even in you make dumb mis-

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Unbeknownst to us we would continue next with the Tin man. The man who now was given

the heart of gold, and enough love that no one would be left untouched by his genuine com-

passion. Our search for him was not as brisk as how I found Scarecrow. We walked for the

rest of that day in Oz into the next night, and right as we went to rest by a river there he

was. Even more rusted and hurting than before, the Tin man laid frozen sitting by the river.

My heart ached and I rushed over to oil up his petrified limbs. First his arms, then legs and

by the time I got to his mouth he was crying and jumping up and down. But by this point

Scarecrow had already started his banter satirizing all the possible reasons as to why the Tin

man was by the river. “Oh, did you want to kiss each fish on its head and wish them the best

day? Or let me guess you could not bare a munchkin struggling to fish so you just had to help

him. And guess what Tin man when you needed him he left you to be by yourself some

more. How does loving others make you feel now?” Before Tin man could even reply I inter-

jected. “Stop it! You are supposed to be friends. Please no more comments.” I was disgusted

at the person Scarecrow had become. “Tin man how long have you been here for?” I asked

hoping he was not stuck for long. “Well Dorothy, after Scarecrow and I fought and Lion ran

away I went to chase after Lion, I knew it was not his fault he was brave and tried to help. I

found him laying at the river and after I tried to talking to him to let him know that being

brave and standing up for what he believed was okay he said he would be going to search for

Oz himself and give back his courage. He could not bear to be the person he was. We decid-

ed that morning we would travel together to look for Oz but that night was so cold and I

froze up again. Lion tried to oil me but his paws were too big to help so he promised he

27

would set out and get help for me. At that point I only could nod my head and then he was

gone. However that was years ago, and never gave up hope he would come back. Because

when you truly love someone you believe his or her word and you never give up on that

person. I have obviously waited patiently since and I believe at this very moment he could

still be looking for help. I know with his courage he’s probably helping others along the

way. That is what courage is truly about, helping others no matter who they are or what

challenge they need to overcome.” I could not help but shed a tear for all the hopes the

Tin man had instilled in the Lion and with that I told him, it was now our time to come to-

gether and help find the Lion. He wanted to be happy, and to him being happy was having

a heart. When truly being happy was having friends who loved you when you couldn’t love

yourself. And so once again the three of us walked, just like how it was years ago. Pieces

were falling into place while others were falling apart……..

28

If

By: Anonymous

If I thought that this would be my last breath,

I’d tell you I’ll love you forever, even beyond death.

If I thought that your face would be the last I’d see,

I’d take a million pictures and save them just for me.

If I thought that your voice would be the last thing I’d hear,

I’d listen attentively and promise not to shed a tear.

If I thought that your touch would be the last thing I’d feel,

I’d embrace you and know this had all been real.

If I thought that my heart would beat its last beat,

I’d thank the Lord for allowing us to meet.

29

Unfinished –

The Entertainer of the Golden

(Coming of Age)

Anonymous

The vaudeville performer laid claim to no gaudy recognition

So his heart felt the effects of frost bite

Smitten by the plight of the underappreciated miner

Despite his immense talent to imbue and ignite

His clothes were modest matching the fabric of his soul

The soles of his shoes worn, sporting an eroded hole

As life unfolded, his faith folded over

A summer baby, but he always indulged in a slice of chocolate cake every

third Wednesday in October

He said the sun hurt his skin

He always became grumpy when he stepped outside and was confronted by

heavy winds.

He wasn’t sure what the term gold meant, but in ’49 when he heard of a

great migration towards the west coast

He grabbed his coat and took his talents east

He said he was content with the antiquated material on his feet

Defeat was never in his vocabulary

But when a back injury struck, he tucked his head in his shoulders and said

he’d had enough

30

When his career had ceased so had his grounded qualities

His mellow persona altered from calm and wavy to over bearing and exces-

sively wallowing

He would invest himself into superficial affairs and manufacture an emotion

towards each new endeavor to act as if he truly cared

But his passion was in performance

The Vaudeville art form was dwindling in America and he felt an inexplica-

ble abhorrence

He could not pinpoint as to who or what this feeling was generated towards

But he did not enjoy living and could no longer ignore this

Endurance is always key in the carnival of existence

Luckily, on the third Wednesday of an October God paid him a visit

In his sleep, the Vaudeville Performer was taken

He felt no pain during the sleep in which he would never awaken

In his final years, he grew old and reclusive, an outcast of society

His name was rarely ever spoken

Though, months after his passing, newspaper headline read…

“The story of the last great performer: The Entertained with the prowess of

the Golden”

31

Write a Poem About Me

Anonymous

“Write about how I’m super nice”

I’ll write about how you failed math twice

“Write about all the laughs we’ve had”

Maybe I’ll write about the times you made me mad

“Write all about my amazing test grade”

Or I’ll write about all the mistakes you’ve made

“Write about my outstanding looks”

How about I write how your friends are books

“You’re only writing all great things, right?”

Maybe if I nod I won’t cause a fight

“And write about how I’m your best friend!”

Okay. I will… What’s your last name again?

32

An Ode to Simplicity

By: Zack Butler

The grass is green

The sky is blue

The sun is shining

Cars are driving

Birds are flying

Teachers are teaching

Police are policing

Bakers are buying

Babies are sleeping

Water is flowing

Music is playing

Dancers are dancing

And blind people can’t see any of it.

33

The Wedding Morning

By: Anonymous

The best day of my life is finally here. It only seems like yesterday I was a young girl

playing with my dolls on the floor in my room. I went through so many heartbreaks to finally

get to this day. So many broken promises and stood up dates. I thought I would never find

him, the love of my life, but here I am. All dressed up in my mother’s beautiful wedding

dress. It’s finally here, my wedding day.

I still remember the exact day I met my fiancé. It was my first day of senior year in

high school. I think that was the most nervous I had ever been in my entire life. This was the

most important year in high school, what college I would go to next September determined

on how hard I worked this whole school year. When I walked into my Calculus class, I looked

around to see if I recognized anyone in my class, which I didn’t. I quickly sat down in be-

tween two unfamiliar boys. Soon my teacher gave us textbooks to pass to the person sitting

behind us. When I turned around to give that person a textbook, I saw a boy that changed

my life forever. He had the most beautiful dark brown eyes I had ever seen and brown hair.

His smile just made my world light up. From the one second I looked at him, I already knew

that I was in love with him. I never would have known that ten years later, I would be marry-

ing him.

When I finally handed him the textbook, he said thank you and my face turned bright

red and I turned back around as fast as I could. I didn’t even know him but I couldn’t get him

out of my mind. For the next three weeks, he was all I could think about but I still couldn’t

34

get the courage to talk to him. My friends tried to convince me to talk to him but I just

couldn’t, I knew he wouldn’t like me. I wasn’t the prettiest girl in the school, why would

he want me? The next day in Calculus, I finally got the courage to turn around and say hi

to him.

I nervously turned around and said, “Hi” and introduced myself. He said hi back and

did the same. We started talking for a while and he actually was so funny and friendly. Be-

fore I knew it, we had become the best of friends. We sat with each other every day at

lunch and talked for the whole period in Calculus. I knew it I was in love with him, and all I

wanted was to know if he felt the same way about me. One night, we met each other to

walk in the park and that was the night my life changed forever. He told me that he loved

me and that he never wanted to be without me. I was in total shock. For the first time ev-

er, the boy that I loved, loved me back.

Every day after that was completely perfect because we spent it together. We both

got into the same college, which was perfect because we wouldn’t be separated. I don’t

know what I would have done if we didn’t get into the same college. I need him with me

always. College came and went and soon enough, it was time to start applying for jobs. I

wanted to be a psychologist and he wanted to be a high school teacher. It was most im-

portant that we stayed close to each other. I often though about marriage but I never

mentioned anything to him because I didn’t want to scare him.

35

One night, on the day of our 10th year anniversary, he brought me to a beautiful res-

taurant by the ocean. It was so romantic with candles and flowers all around. The dinner

lasted for hours but the whole time all I could do was look at him. We talked for what

seemed forever about all our experiences together and everything we had been though

these last ten years. Then, something happened that changed my life forever. He got up,

stood in front of me and got on one knee. He took out a little black box and when he

opened it, I saw the most beautiful diamond ring I have ever seen. All I could think about

then was the life we were going to have together. The laughter, the tears, and the oppor-

tunity of becoming parents. It was all ahead of us. Now here I am, on my wedding morning,

ready to start my life with the man I love more than life itself.

36

Finding what you love is hard.

For some, they love their family.

For some, friends are just enough.

But what happens when it’s not?

What happens when the love isn’t mutual?

Do you just sink, saying “maybe next time?”

Or do you rise, with the heart full of hope?

How you fight these inner battles, with hope,

Or with despair, determines who you are.

By Alex Buttitta

37

Elegy

By: Anonymous

To one of the most important men in my life;

Our family misses you especially your wife.

You loved playing pool;

I should have told you I thought that made you cool.

The attack was always filled with model airplanes;

I would sit and try and make origami cranes.

I have many happy memories of you;

Especially ones of just us two

You never liked us to walk on your garden;

When we did you always used bad jargon

All is well down here;

With this big family we always share.

Final words for the deceased;

I hope you rest in peace.

Love you Poppi,

I know you will forever watch over top of me.

38

By: Melanie Ortega

The Love of a Father

Inspired by “Song to Celia”

Do you remember anything about me?

When I was tiny and small, I could barely walk on my two feet

Growing up without you was really hard

The stupid things I couldn’t give you, like a father’s day card.

I remember drawing pictures and putting them on the wall

The affection that you could never give bothered me above all.

Those ten minute phone calls were never enough

Putting up a wall to hide my emotions was always tough.

Memories and love is all I ever wanted, dad

You can’t take back what you never had.

I could never forgive you for making me feel like an outcast

Now it is hard for me to believe that love could ever last.

I promise you that I never meant to be a bother

But why would you take this away from me?

The love of a father

I guess you’ll never have a second chance…

39

Dear Dictator

By: Nick Reyna

Dictator, we thank you for your kindness

If only you would show it some more

Your kindness is great and your smile is like a sun

So much we all run… I mean have fun.

Your reign is never ending, never mending, or bending

Please excuse any puns,

I really don’t mean to make fun,

Please don’t take me away,

We thank you for your kindness

We really wish for more.

40

Mental Mary

By: Anonymous

Be quiet during Hamlet

Get your essay in on time

Know your soliloquy

Make your poem rhyme

Highlight and study

Don’t get caught doing math

Mental Mary is real

Trust me, I’ve felt her wrath

41

Anonymous

There was once a girl burdened with heavy bags under her wide, chocolate eyes. They

had been there from the very day that she had existed. Even as she opened her eyes for

the first time, a vision of innocence and curiosity, those dark rings were forming just un-

der the surface. As she grew older, she became a vision of stubbornness. No one would

tell her what color to draw her tree, and get away with it. She had a mind of her own,

which was why she stayed awake, even after Mom called, “Lights out.”

As she lay in bed at night, she saw something beautiful about staying awake while the

rest of the universe was sleeping. She saw insomnia as a marvelous thing. But every

night that she stayed up, contemplating the universe and what she wanted for breakfast

that next morning, she was sewing little specs of dust under her wide, chocolate eyes.

She never thought that her choice of insomnia would later become an unwanted addic-

tion. She never minded the small grey circles that were slowly framing her ever-so-

innocent face. She never cared about imperfections or beauty.

Not until high school did she notice the gloomy curtains draped under her sad, wide,

chocolate eyes. She decided it didn’t fit the air of well-restedness that the rest of the

universe portrayed. She caked on luminous eye-brightening concealer to cover her self-

deemed “imperfection.”

As the years went by and her sad, wide, chocolate eyes became older and wiser. One

night, she stayed up to stare at the view of the city in her big, beautiful New York Apart-

ment. It represented all that she ever worked for, all that she ever wanted or loved.

There was no chance she was sleeping that night. She had a new love to keep her happy,

and it was the city lights reflecting in her sad, wide, beautiful chocolate eyes.

42

Dreams

By: Anonymous

Darkness. It lingers everywhere, consuming all that can be seen and

known. A shadow that is not tangible, but it engulfs everything that is. Its ten-

ebrous demeanor that it bestows upon the land is inevitable, and now a sense

of aloneness overwhelms. With its sullen presence among us, our horrors and

superstitions begin to transpire. Thoughts and emotions of fears and night-

mares begin to envisage in the brain. With them, darkness distorts perception

of reality. The creatures that only dwelled in the deepest and darkest parts of

our mind now seem to come into existence. Terrorized and paralyzed with fear

that we instill in ourselves, we are lost. Consumed into the darkness with the

rest of the world, and it appears as if there is no escape. But just then, as all

hope and reminiscence of the previous world seem to extinguish, a ray of light

permeates through the dark. Emerging from the Far East, this hallow entity

rips through the shadows and reveals the lands once more. Creatures and su-

perstitions of the dark fade away, and a joyous atmosphere returns to the

world once more. We awaken from our horrific nightmares, but only for so

long. The world’s beings endure this never ending cycle, and it is only what the

mind makes of it. We have those which enjoy their dreams from the ending

day’s night, and those select few who fear the dying light.

43

Elegy Poem by Anonymous

My cousin died last week, and I wonder why;

He was only 57, and way too young to die.

He had so much to live for; he was such a nice guy,

Now I can only wonder, as I look up the sky.

I could feel the pain of his daughters, as they began to cry,

I repeated to myself, why did he have to die.

It was a fatal stroke, I thought it was only a dream,

He was so young, why does life have to be so mean?

I feel that he will be greatly missed, and I am so very sad,

I know that for a fact, since I hear it from my dad.

My cousin will be in a better place, which they call heaven,

I wish you well my friend, from your cousin Kevin.

44

Give To Me

By: Anonymous

Give to me thine soul,

And together we can grow old,

Give to me thine heart,

And nothing shall ever tear us apart,

Give to me thine hand,

And our relationship will never be bland.

I shall never leave you bare,

Because I could never lose care,

You are my one love,

You are more divine than a pure white dove,

I want you by my side,

Even after we have died,

I love you with all my heart,

I am just waiting for thine to start

45

Imperfections

Anonymous

Whether it’s your outfit, nose, teeth, or hair

Society forces you to care

To have an inch off your waist or go down a size

Photo-shopped pictures promote high-standard lies

They focus on your flaws

They don’t realize they cause

Hatred towards yourself

You want to be someone else

Eye lashes longer, foundation applied

You hide all your imperfections on the inside

46

My Only Wish By: Anonymous

The fragrance of your hair,

The softness of your lips;

Everything about you,

Is the only thing that I always miss;

Six years have passed,

I love you more every day;

My love to you will stand forever,

I will hold you tight in a way;

Every night when I close my eyes,

I see a flash in my mind;

My only wish in my entire life is to stay with you,

And we will stick together forever entwined;

In spring, we will witness the rebirth of green,

In summer, we will witness the raindrop;

In fall, we will witness the color change of nature,

In winter, we will witness the flawless snowflakes.

47

Painting

Anonymous

This scene in my mind

Is a painting of you

There’s no need for rainbows

Only feelings that are true

I believe with all my heart

That love is anything you want it to be

For something painted with love

Can be special, for you and me

I know this would turn out all right

If I had those colors to start

Colors full of emotions

From which I could paint form my heart

48

Pretty By: Erica Messina

On Every magazine and screen, we see

Stunning airbrushed models promoting a dame,

Encouraging young girls to look alike.

They oppose individuality, and

Promote perfection and consistency,

Demanding to see the impossible.

They strip away what makes you beautiful

And bleach your natural charm.

They offer free samples of bottle magic

And slather on their “miracle” treatments.

They inject their venom into your veins

And promise you won’t feel a thing.

As their poison seers your skin and peels it back,

A new face is revealed, one with foreign features:

The cheekbones are highlighted, the lips are bow-shaped.

You stare back at this creature in curiosity

Because you cannot recognize yourself.

49

But imperfections make you stunning.

Freckles, sunspots, whatever you wish to call them,

Are called “beauty marks” for a reason.

Wear them with pride- they belong only to you.

Those scars you cover up have stories to tell,

There is no shame in letting them show.

True beauty manifests itself in different ways:

A beautiful mind that can create and imagine.

A beautiful soul that shows care and compassion.

A beautiful heart that loves unconditionally.

Think nothing of the decorative shell:

The inner light is what matters most of all.

50

Hide and Seek by: Anonymous

“I found you!” my brother Malachi yelled while poking me with his cane and touching

my face with his other hand. For someone who is blind, my little brother is really good at

playing hide and seek. Besides the occasional running into a wall or tripping over furniture,

he usually finds me quicker than it takes me to find him.

My name is Naomi Williams and I am nineteen years old. I’m currently playing hide

and seek with my brother. My seven year old little brother, Malachi, is blind. Aside from be-

ing blind, Malachi is still a happy little boy even though he cannot see. He does not let being

blind ever stop him from being like all the other boys his age. He has straight A’s and is the

smartest kid in his second grade class. He loves reading and is constantly on his iPad listen-

ing to audio books. Malachi loves to tell stories and one day I think he is going to be a writer.

He loves horses and is actually a really good rider with assistance. Malachi is my inspira-

tion. Who else can get a nineteen year old to play hide and seek with them?

I just came home from college to visit him like I do every weekend and my mom has

asked me to babysit him while she goes to get her hair done. My mom works hard and she

deserves to get out sometimes. She does not only take care of her blind seven year old son,

she also is a nurse. Mom doesn’t get out much, so when I come home I let her go out while I

watch Malachi. I don’t really mind watching him; Mal is fun to be around and it feels more

like hanging out than babysitting.

“Okay you found me, stop poking me!” I say and we both start to laugh. I was hiding

under the kitchen table. It is a very easy place to be found, but with a blind brother I cannot

hide in difficult places.

51

“Just hurry, it’s your turn to count,” he complained. He loves hide and seek and can play for

hours. I do not really mind playing with him because I only really see him on weekends. I decided to

go to a college nearby so I wouldn’t have to be far from him.

“Okay. One, two, three,” I started to count and I heard Malachi running away. I peeked a little

to make sure he was okay. Just as I opened my eyes, I saw he had run into the sofa that is in the mid-

dle of our living room and fell over on to the floor. I tried not to laugh while he got back up and con-

tinued to look for a place to hide. He did this all the time. Mal is so used to running into things that he

does not even care anymore. I started to count again and then I heard the front door open. I quickly

opened my eyes and saw Malachi going outside.

“Mal don’t go out there!” I yelled and quickly ran after him. He was now in middle of the

street and it was making me nervous. I quickly tried to make my way to him.

“Hey, you didn’t finish counting you cheater!” he calls back and starts running faster.

“This isn’t funny Mal get back here!” I yell. He stops running when he hears how serious I am.

He turns to come back, but right in that moment I see a car coming.

“Malachi move!” I yell. I start to run faster, by the time I finally catch up to him and push him

out of the way, I hear him scream and everything went black.

***

I open my eyes and see a white room that I do not recognize. I can tell that I am in a hospital

room by the machines next to my head that are beeping obnoxiously loud. I look around and notice

my mom and Malachi sitting in the chairs next to the bed. Malachi is crying into my mom’s shoulder

and she is trying to comfort him.

“Mom?” I say kind of confusedly. I try to reach my arm out to them, but it hurts too much. I

noticed that I had casts on my left arm and left leg. I don’t exactly know what is wrong with me yet,

but I’m pretty sure they’re broken. I feel pain in those places, but it is not that bad. I am probably on

52

pain killers. The last thing I remember is Malachi screaming and then everything going black. I must

have been hit by the car.

My mom looks up and smiles. She has tears in her eyes that have yet to fall, but I can tell she

is trying to be strong for Malachi.

“Mal look, Naomi is awake,” she said to him. He immediately lifted his head and faced me.

Even though he is blind, he is really good at knowing where to face and following people’s voices.

“Naomi!” Malachi says while still crying. “I’m so sorry. I should not have ran outside. Now

you are hurt because of me,” he says, now sobbing.

“It’s okay Mal, as long as you’re okay I will be fine,” I said to try to comfort him. My mom

got up and helped him over to me. She smiled and gave me a kiss on my forehead.

“You’re a great big sister Naomi,” she said. Malachi reached over and grabbed my arm which

had the cast on it. “Be careful not to hurt her Mal,” mom said and helped him get on the bed. I

hugged him with my other arm and he cried into my shoulder.

“You don’t have to cry Malachi, I’m fine. Look, you can even draw on my cast!” I said while

looking at my mom. “Do you have like a pen or something?”

Mom reached into her purse and pulled out a black Sharpie. Malachi lifted his head and snif-

fled, but took the sharpie anyway. He sat there holding my arm with the cast for a couple seconds

with a concentrated face, deciding what he was going to draw. He finally got an idea and smiled. I

smiled back even though he could not see and watched as he started to draw on the cast. Even though

Mal is blind, we still try to teach him how to make letters and draw shapes.

“Don’t watch me, it is supposed to be a surprise,” he told me. I immediately covered my eyes

with my other hand. I could have just peeked and he would have never noticed, but I

53

wanted to make him happy. I heard him whisper to mom, telling her to come over. I felt the side of the bed

dip even more, probably my mom coming on it too. For a while all I heard was them whisper to each other.

“Okay open your eyes Naomi,” Malachi said. I opened my eyes to see what he had drawn on my arm.

I love you Naomi, was written on my cast with a heart next to it. It was in sloppy handwriting, but it still

meant a lot to me because he can’t even see and he wrote that for me anyway. I was starting to get a little

teary eyed, but held it back.

“Thank you Malachi. I love you too,” I told him and he hugged me.

For a while the three of us sat in the hospital room talking about what happened. Malachi still felt real-

ly bad, but I tried my best to comfort him. I found out that the hit was really bad and the doctors said I was

lucky to not be paralyzed. Instead I just have a broken arm and leg. We all really wanted to go home after our

long day.

“I will be right back. I am going to talk to the doctor,” my mom said and got up and left. Once she was

gone, Mal lied down and cuddled up next to me.

“Naomi, why didn’t you just let the car hit me?” he asked. I looked at him confused. I know he could-

n’t see the look on my face, but I really wish he could. How can he not know why I did that? Does he not

know how much he means to me? Does he not know that I would do anything for him? I really would do any-

thing for Malachi.

“I would do anything for you Malachi. I love you and it would hurt me more if you were hurt instead

of me,” I tried to explain to him. He smiled and tried to feel where my face was with his hands. Once he got a

good hold of my face, he leaned in and kissed my cheek.

“I love you to Naomi and I would do anything for you too,’ he whispered and I almost started crying.

If I didn’t already know it, I knew in that moment that my little brother was everything to me. Sure, we fight

sometimes and have our ups and downs, but having a sibling is something really special. I know that Malachi

and I learned something valuable from this experience. Our bond as siblings is strong and the need to protect

each other will always come first. That is truly extraordinary.

54

Ode to City Life by Erica Messina

The city rests comfortably, cloaked in black smoke,

Reveling in the security of its own smog.

Its buildings stand erect and proud, as if in praise

Of an unknown entity or idea, their spires

Pierce the sky and tangle in the clouds

The pavement underfoot lies unevenly, its surface

Rough and cracked, its color faded, like the skin on

Work-worn and beaten, yet strong, dedicated hands.

Graffiti decorates the walls and buildings, adding

Personal touches to the ever-changing setting.

Its heartbeat is cacophonous and deafening-

Sirens continually sound their alarms while the

Street musicians play and the traffic blares it favorite tune.

Meanwhile the city’s denizens continue to go on about

Their lives, oblivious to the chaos around them.

55

It’s foreign and strange and absurd to some, yet

Mundane and natural and reasonable to others; it is

Either attractive and welcoming or repulsive and hostile.

Many argue that the city is dirty, untamed, and dangerous;

And others are proud to call that “toxic” environment home.

56

By: Jamie Haas

Look at her lips sketched in red

A sharp ebony wing encircling her eye

Glossy hair cascading down her waist

A golden waist thinner than my thigh

Look at her on the beach

A brilliant sun glowing in the sky

Teeth as glistening as the ocean

Catching stares from every guy

Look at her strutting about

Taking on New York City

With grand allure and enviable poise

Beautiful, charming, and pretty

Look at me pathetic

Sobbing at her page

I was never that flawless

When I was her age

The admiring comments on her pictures

The pixels glowing on the screen

Have me screaming inside,

“Why can’t that be me?”

57

The petty things

Cause such a scare.

Lurking monsters

That were never there

Warlocks cursing

And witches casting.

Ghosts haunting,

And Ghouls blasting.

All the dead

That make you scream

Have nothing on

Mere memory

Ghosts of memories;

The most gruesome of sorts

With their truth they bind.

With their fraud they distort.

Haunting and taunting

They tatter and taint.

Nothing like memory

To bring back hate.

“I’ve changed! I swear!”

So many time decreed.

But memories, old memories-

They beg to disagree.

Don’t fear the dark,

The man under the bed.

Don’t fear the werewolves,

Or horrific stories said.

Don’t fear the occult

Or screeching banshees.

Fear something real.

Fear Memory.

By: Brianna Rizo

58

I Watch By: Samantha Balducci“

I watch

As time passes

From summer to fall

And the grass changes from green to brown

While red and orange leaves tumble to the ground

And the trees show their bare arms

Swaying in the wind

I watch

As time passes

From fall to winter

And snow begins to fall

In perfect crystals each unique

Covering the earth

The dull sun reflecting off the perfect fluffy surface

I watch

As time passes

From winter to spring

The first signs of life emerging

As birds begin to chirp

And rows of colorful flowers bloom

Permeating the air with their sweet smell

Green grass finally can be seen

I watch

As spring turns into summer

And the hot yellow sun beats down

While children are laughing and splashing in a pool

And towels are being hung out to dry

The world is basking in the heat

Enjoying these short months

Before summer turns into fall

59

Fall of nature by Malyack

Short breath, hands are shaking

Without you my heart is aching

Starting to worry, think too much

Until I feel your gentle touch

When all along, it’s you I’ll miss

Waiting for your sweetest kiss

You are my angel, a gift from above

The only one who I truly love

60

By: Hailey McGlynn

I sense something inside is out of place,

I fear something, some things will never be the same.

I know with time the things we love fade away,

Being here now, what’s changed cannot be repaired.

These walls are now painted,

These pictures are different,

The scent is unfamiliar,

And yet I won’t believe it

But how could this place be so vacant and quiet,

When a brand new family is now living inside it,

I remember the sheets of the bed in the room on the left

Now taken hold by somebody else

It’s crazy how fast some months can go by

A decade of memories must fly past your eyes

But all must go on, this house is not a home

Moving through life is all that I know.

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Under Your Boot Soles

By: Yannis Alejo

“If you want me again look for me under your boot soles.” He read it aloud several

times before beginning his quest. The quote was from the book Leaves of Grass by Walt Whit-

man. This was the only book Olly saw his mother ever pick up. It wasn’t like the science fiction

novels he liked to read but a collection of poems mom often read from. He wasn’t even sure

what the quote had meant exactly. The wording used in poems confused him and he was not

very good at recognizing symbolism, but he felt like the quote related to him in some way.

And so he made the quote mean what he wanted it to mean and it made the entire situation

a lot better for him.

Finally he got up and walked over to his mother’s desk. Olly grabbed an old chipped

mug off the desk and searched its contents until he found the short, wooden pencil with the

tiniest bit of eraser left at the top. This was his mother’s favorite pencil and with it he wrote

out his letter, then carefully placed it in an envelope and dropped both the pencil and the en-

velope in a bag. With the bag in his left hand Olly opened the door to his mother’s room with

the other. The door creaked open and he realized he hadn’t been in this room for a long time.

He climbed into bed and reminisced on how his family would all sleep together under the co-

vers when the kids had nightmares. While lying in bed and staring up the ceiling, Olly’s eyes

planted on the light fixture. He realized that would be the first thing his mother would see

when she woke up. What if mom misses that? I’ll bring that to her, just in case, Olly thought.

And with that he stood on his tippy toes, unscrewed the bulb and put it in his bag, careful not

to shatter it. Before jumping off the bed, Olly’s eyes spotted tissues sitting on the nightstand.

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Mom was very sick…I should take those too.

He made his way to another bedroom next. Tiptoeing into his sister’s bedroom, Olly

crept over to Lucy’s bed where she lay napping. Looking down on her small head, he

spotted the bright pink bobby pin and plucked it out of her hair. Mom had a whole pack of

pink bobby pins she used to do Lucy’s hair every morning, and Lucy wanted to donate one

for Olly’s mission. Olly had one hand on the door knob, ready to leave, when he heard a

soft voice call his name. He turned around to see Lucy awake, drowsily rubbing her eyes.

“Tell her I love her for me, please”, she yawned, and he promised he would, kissed her on

the forehead, and left the room.

Smiling, Olly dropped the pin in the bag and continued on. Not paying attention to

where he was going, he stepped on something and immediately slipped backward. Winc-

ing, Olly checked his bag to make sure the lightbulb was okay and it was. Then he searched

the floor and found the red Hot Wheels car that had caused his fall. It wasn’t any regular

car though; this was the toy given to him on his 6th birthday by his mother. That was al-

most 6 years ago and Olly still remembered it well. He took the toy car and plopped that in

the bag too.

He figured it was finally time for him to leave so he headed to his own room. Grab-

bing his boots and hat, Olly noticed the mess of Nerf gun bullets scattered across his floor.

Mom had always picked them up for him but he decided to clean up for himself this time.

At the last minute he placed one in the bag.

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Olly crouched down to sit on the couch and put his shoes on when he felt something

prick his bottom. It was the missing earring Mom had lost. She will be glad to know I found

her other earring, he thought as he put it in the bag. With one foot over the threshold of the

front door, Olly’s eyes stung from the bright sun beaming down on him. Getting an idea, he

ran back inside grabbed Mom’s sunglasses, placed them on his face and ran back outside,

shutting the door behind him.

As Olly walked to his destination, he stopped at several places. First he went to his

family’s favorite drink place and ordered his mother’s usual. As Olly sipped the last drop of

strawberry mango spring smoothie, Mr. Walter Jones, the owner, came over and made small

talk. Olly could tell he was acting strange. Mr. Walter Jones spoke slow and soft, in contrast

to his usual loud and enthusiastic self. He felt sorry for Olly, but Olly ignored this behavior

and ordered another spring smoothie. Extracting the straw from the tall glass, Olly jumped

off the stool and put it in his bag. He waved goodbye to Mr. Walter Jones who gave him a

sympathetic smile and was gone.

It was getting dark out so Olly put the sunglasses in his bag and began to hurry. He

was becoming extremely worried and anxious because he realized his journey was almost at

an end. Looking around, he saw scary shadows and thought he heard noises that frightened

him. Like his mother, Olly was a panicky person. Before letting his panic attack get out of

control, he closed his eyes and tried to think clearly. In situations like these, his mother

would be there to calm him down with her soothing voice. The thought of his mother

helped a little but he realized his mother wasn’t going to help him this time. He directed his

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train of thought in a different direction. What would Mom do? Right away Olly knew the answer and could-

n’t help but let out a laugh. His mother was a nervous chewer. Olly kept smiling as memories of his mother

reaching into her bag for a stick of gum entered his mind. He raced to the nearest corner and bought a pack

of gum. It took one stick for himself and put the rest of the packet in the bag.

Olly took his time entering the cemetery. He stood before his mother’s tombstone and placed the

bag down. He didn’t move his feet again for 20 minutes. Under the soles of my boots…, he started. He took

Leaves of Grass from his pocket and placed the last item inside his…her bag. Then he started talking. He told

her about his day and how he made honor roll that quarter. He mentioned how Lucy threw a fit when the

tooth fairy did not give her money after she lost a tooth. He made sure to tell her Dad was doing fine and

how he is not as a good a cook as she was. He told her how Lucy said she loved her, how the whole family

loved and missed her. Then he said his goodbyes, promised he’d visit soon, and began to walk away. Before

getting to far, he stopped in his tracks and reminded her to read the letter in the bag. He headed back home

when his job there was done. The letter had said:

Dear Mommy,

Hello, it’s Olly. I’m using your special pencil right now, I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to bring it to you so you don’t have to wor-

ry. I am actually going to bring some things I think you would want or need. I’ll put them all in a nice little bag for you too. I don’t

know what the items will be yet but I’m sure you’ll like them. One thing for sure will be your poetry book. There’s one quote in

there that I underlined after you got sick and left. The quote is “If you want to find me look under your boot soles.” When I read it,

I thought you were trying to talk to me. At first I thought it was very literal, like it was saying if I want to find you I just have to

look at ground, where you were buried at. But I didn’t really like that interpretation and I figured out what it actually meant, to me

anyway. It means that you’re not completely gone. You’re still everywhere. I can find you anywhere I look. I can see you in things

around the house, outside the house and in my memories. Like this very pencil is you. I don’t have to look somewhere deep and far

to find you. I just have to look right under my own nose, under my own feet, my own boot soles.

See you soon,

Olly

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By: Brianna Rizzo

One with the creamy foam

Whispering to the sand

Making coral reefs her home

Is the Child Born of the Sea.

Her feet covered with sand

And hair woven when shells

The breathless world watches

Her emerge from the dark swells,

The majestic Daughter of the Sea

Not a mermaid, no.

But something much, much more.

Her breath is from the tide

And her soul from the shore.

Up the sand she walks,

Her gait so smooth with flow.

All are struck with awe

As her mysterious beauty shows,

This Child Born of the Sea.

No greater power found

In all corners of the Earth

That even Father Sea listens

To his Daughter filled with mirth

The Daughter of the Sea

Does wonders with her hand

Her sweet touch so gentle

Darkest Deep does her command,

Great Child Born of the Sea.

When to her Home she returns

Mighty Ocean stops and waits

His Daughter’s back arched

Her swanlike dive He anticipates.

And Great Father Sea

Embraces His Daughter

His tossing limbs holding,

Erasing all bothers.

“Keiki Hanau Moana”

So good to see your return

I wish I didn’t have to share you

With the rest of the adoring world,

Kaikamahine Kai”

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Minds By Nicole D’Ambrosia

The word sanity is often misused

The opposite word, crazy tends to be abused

Why does it matter what goes on inside one’s head?

Sanity is a word that is better off unsaid

A viewpoint about what is sane is all about perception

Not everyone’s thoughts go in the same direction

Many people suffer from “insanity” every day

It is inevitable and is always here to stay

But sometimes being ‘sane’ gets boring and old

With ‘crazy’ minds better stories are told

Being ‘crazy’ is a blessing and a curse

Sometimes being sane can be even worse

There are some people who just get called insane

This can cause issues and we’re the ones to blame

When you call someone crazy, you don’t know what they’ve been

through

And it’s unfair to label for things that are untrue

Sanity is a topic that should not be thrown around

We all have insanity in us, just waiting to be found

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The One Walked Away

To the woman I loved so dearly, a girl who just drives me crazy

You came to be, a part of me, like the leaves on the trees.

Sometimes we let our emotions get the best of us, but making up was always a

must

Almost 2 years passed by, I was always there the times you cried

Lay your head on my chest, please put your mind at rest,

Cry it all out, I promise you I love you no doubt.

Innocence was key as to why I fell in love with thy,

You are the only girl I want, something you have other girl don’t.

“1, 2, 3, 4” by the Plain White T’s, do you remember when you use to sing it to

me,

Laying on the couch right beside me, I play the piano just for you to fall asleep

You broke my heart, you betrayed me

Inside it drives me crazy, slowly eating my mind away

I swear I’m just praying for the day you come back, saying you miss me and want

me back

Then I remember that one day, you were the one that walked away…

-Sean Varona

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An Excerpt from Noelle Maddalena’s short story :

An Idea

On a clear Summer day, Michael was on the beach reading Beowulf underlining

quotes and points he found interesting with the yellow pencil he found inside it at the near-

by corner store. Recalling the last 22 years of his life, Michael could not even remember

hearing about the book; mostly because he never read anything besides cereal boxes and TV

Ads. However, today, he was feeling inspired and decided to take off from work and dive

into the story. As he walked along the banks of the shore, he unintentionally kicked some-

thing. At first he was unaware of what it was, until he bent down and brushed the sand of

the clear glass of a discarded lightbulb. Then it hit him; up until now, his life has lacked

spontaneity, and he felt a change was in order. The smooth, clear glass reminded him of his

girlfriend Amber’s diamond earring she left at his house, along with her bobby pins. She

was always leaving her belongings at his place, and Michael took it as a sign that things

should get more serious. So, with that idea in mind, he devised his plan. With a wide grin,

Michael set out to buy his girlfriend the most beautiful engagement ring.

After he arrived home to shower and shave, Michael reached into his bag to grab his

phone. At the very bottom, was a single Nerf bullet and deep blue Hot Wheels Car. The

mood in the room shifted, and immediately Michael’s head was filled with memories of bat-

tling and playing with his little brother… before his disheartening death.

“I wish you were here buddy…” Michael whispered to the toys. He could not help

but feel the sickening pain as he often felt, when he remembered times with his brother,

Danny. The tragedy was too fresh, and he couldn’t pull the Band-Aid off just yet. Keeping

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his brother in mind, Michael called Amber.

“Hi sweetie!” she crooned.

“Uh, hey babe, how are you?” he said nervously because he did not want to hint to her

about the proposal.

“I’m out with my parents right now. Are we still up for later?”

“Tell them I said hello, and yes, but I hope you don’t mind I have changed the plans a

little bit.” He twiddled with the lightbulb he found earlier.

“Oooh a surprise, huh? All right, I will see you at 6!” she said she loved him and hung

up.

For a moment he stood there, and finally set off to get the perfect ring. At first Michael

tried local jewelers, but nothing felt special enough.

Around 4:30PM, Michael found a jeweler off the nearby highway and with surplus

confidence, he went in. He walked around the displays scrutinizing every ring until he found

one he felt was just right. The way the ring reflected the light reminded him of the way the

sunlight gleamed off of the waves at the beach earlier that day.

Before Amber arrived at his house around 6, Michael cleaned himself up and popped a

piece of gum in his mouth, and the rest in his burlap bag. Then for the second time that day,

Michael had an idea for the proposal; he would tell Amber that in an envelope was the ear-

ring and bobby pin she left behind the other day, however when she opened it, it would be

the ring!

“Hellooo?” he heard Amber say as she walked in. Anxiously, Michael searched his

room for an empty envelope. Crash. While he tried to look, he accidentally hit the lightbulb

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that was teetering on his bed onto the floor. Little shards of glass lay scattered across his

shag rug, and unlike before, they now were brittle and unpromising. He stood there, hovering

over the pieces. However for the time being, Mike kicked the pieces under his bed.

“Hey sweetie, in here!” his voice cracked. He packed the ring, his sunglasses, and some

tissues (just in case) in his bag and went to meet his girlfriend.

“Mike, do you have any straws? I just dropped mine outside and I hate drinking from

these cups without a straw…” she trailed off, searching his kitchen cabinets.

“Here, I have a spare in my bag,” he joked as he pulled one out and hugged her.

“Thanks, so where to?”

“The beach! I decided we’re going to grab some food on the boardwalk and lay out on

the sand and relax,” he said as they headed down the street towards the stores and restaurants

on the boardwalk. While his girlfriend chatted incessantly about her day and dilemmas, Mi-

chael only half paid attention to what she was saying. He was almost certain she would say yes,

but there was always the fear of rejection.

“Did you hear what I said? Michael, did you forget to take your meds?” she questioned.

“Huh, uh yeah,” she was referring to his antidepressant and antipsychotics. He wasn’t

loony or anything, he was just scarred by his brother’s suicide only years earlier. Trying to

change the topic, he offered, “What do you want to eat?”

She shrugged, “Good, babe, and Woody’s Fire Grille sounds fine!”

The couple walked to the take-out window, hand-in-hand, and ordered. Mike usually or-

dered the Double Wubble Burger, and Amber the Marguerite Pizza, however this time, they or-

dered grilled chicken, side salads, and dessert………….

71

An Excerpt from Victoria Schmidt short story:

Queen Annabelle?

The sun slipped past the linen curtains hanging in my room, causing the enor-

mous area to illuminate in colorful patterns. Even though the sun filled up most of the

room, and cascaded the objects within it, it would forever feel empty. In the corner,

my dog, Ella, rolled around in her bed trying to get in the most comfortable sleeping

position. I smiled, as when she finally placed her head down on her silk bed the

wakeup call was rung. In other words, this was her favorite call because this meant

that there was food for her. She ran towards the door, just in time for Geffrey to open

it and allow her to quickly exit. In came Geffrey carrying my breakfast.

“Wow you remembered the tea,” I said.

“How could I possibly forget?” Geffrey responded.

Geffrey Rosemund was my favorite person in the household. He has known me since

my crib years and he never failed to put a smile on my face. Geffrey is a butler in the

Harrison household, but I consider him to be more of an uncle figure than anything

else.

“You have a busy schedule today Miss Annabelle. I would get up right this in-

stant and get dressed if I were you,” Geffrey stated in a nagging tone. I simply shot

him a glare and chewed on my freshly made toast.

“I’m only 17. It’s not healthy to wake up this early in the morning,” I stated.

Geffrey simply snickered and responded; “It’s not easy being royalty.”

I rolled my eyes and let out a big puff of air as I knew it was officially time to

go do my “duties” as royalty. I finally decided to get up. I quickly brushed my curly

brown hair and washed my face looking at my crystal blue eyes in the mirror. I put on

one of my grandmother’s favorite blue dresses and heels. Honestly, I wish I was not

a royal figure. I wish I didn’t have to wake up to big lavish rooms surrounded by lin-

en curtains and butlers bringing in my breakfast. I wish I didn’t have to wear heels

every public place, because it was the “appropriate” shoe wear for a princess. For

once, I wanted to wake up when I wanted to, make my own breakfast, and wear what

I wanted to wear and not what others expected me to wear. I just wanted to be a nor-

mal person. However, I came to the realization that that’s not possible in the Harrison

household.

I made my way down the stairs just to find my little brother Collin, who was 5

years old, playing with a blue racecar in the hallway. He was the youngest of the fam-

ily and his hands never let go of that blue racecar. Grandpa gave it to him just before

72

before he passed away, and he treasured it immensely. I continued my stroll into the kitchen

where my older sister, Abigail, was sitting, looking at her phone.

“Abby, I swear all you ever do is look at that phone. It’s just an electronic.”

She looked at me defensively and I already knew a fight would break out. Abby and I

were not the best of sisters. We fought a lot while growing up and we still do. She has a

completely different outlook on the world; she constantly needs the attention of paparazzi,

and loves to attend social gatherings and events. On the other hand of the spectrum, I enjoy

sitting at home and being away from people, sometimes, even my own family.

“Well you know Bella, it’s nice to know what people are saying about you,” she shot

hotly back at me. I grabbed the orange juice from the fridge while saying,

“Abby you care way too much. Who cares what they think?”

“Well sorry that we are royalty and are held in the public eye Bella. Not everyone

wants to be closed in their room avoiding people!” Abby shouted. Suddenly a true warmth

was felt through the room as my mom walked in.

“Girls, I swear every time you are together you are constantly fighting! I would ex-

pect this from a 7 and 11 year old, not a 17 and 21 year old!” My mother smiled as she fin-

ished her statement and both of us chuckled.

The last person to enter the kitchen was my oldest brother James. He was born first,

so he believes that means he is automatically the brightest and the “favorite” child. He is

following in my father’s steps, and is truly a younger version of him. James is 24 and han-

dles all the publicity for the family. He tells us the schedule every morning, including this

one. I tend to daydream while he is saying the schedule. Even if I did pay attention, I would

be sighing and moaning about the day’s events before they even took place. I was brought

back to a focus when James was calling my name.

“Annabelle did you hear that?” James gestures to Abby, Collin, me, and himself and

says,

“The four of us are due for an appearance at the Vets for Pets event in Ireland this

afternoon. The plane is departing in a half hour.”

“Okay. Where are mom and dad going?” I asked curiously. My mother responded

pushing her rectangle rimmed glasses up towards her nose,

“Me and your father are attending a meeting with the Duke of Wales this morning. It is

taking place in his mansion. We will be taking the car.”

73

Soon, everyone was off to their respected destinations. The four of us boarded the

plane with little Collin crying because his blue toy car was left behind in the house. I sat in

the jet preparing for departure while fixing the bobby pin in my hair. The plane flew high in

the sky and I was looking down on the clouds and London, which looked so small from this

high up. I was playing with my favorite pair of earrings when James asked me if I wanted a

drink. I shook my head no, and he went to go grab himself a glass of water. I turned to-

wards Abby who was again sitting on her phone. Is there even reception this high up in the

atmosphere? I sighed and turned back to the window, but my head quickly spinned back to

James when I heard glass shattering.

His face was as pale as snow and his eyes bulged out of his head as if he has just killed a

man. The water trickled from the shards of broken glass and soaked into the red velvet car-

pet. All of us sat in silence just starring at James waiting for some detail on what just hap-

pened. His lips quivered, and he struggled to speak, but when he finally did, he quickly spit

out

“Mom and Dad are dead.”

Five months went by, and nothing has been the same since mom and dad died. The

day is too vivid for me, and it continues to haunt me every single second of every single

day. The plane we were on immediately turned around and headed back to London. All of

us were in complete disbelief until we finally saw them in the hospital. The worst part of it

was having Collin ask me day after day where Mom and Dad were, and all I could say was

“They went on a trip. They won’t be coming back anytime soon.”

The funeral was probably the breaking point for the entire family. All of us lost

something that day, but seeing James scattered like that was truly horrifying. James could

always put on a content face for a sad event. He was the type of man that hid all of his emo-

tions, like at grandpa’s funeral, not a single tear was shed from James’ eye. However, at this

funeral, James was going through boxes of tissues. The truth is that James couldn’t avoid

the fact that he couldn’t do anything about their death. James always believed he could fix

everything, and this time he truly couldn’t.

Abby’s feelings about the media and paparazzi completely changed after the an-

nouncement of our parent’s death. She finally saw how corrupt their ideals were and how

far they were willing to go to produce a story. However, the media did ask one good ques-

tion; “who was going to be the next heir to the British throne?” Our parents left a will be-

hind, but they did not specify who they were leaving the thrown to in their name. What they

did state was that the decision was to be left up to grandma, or as known to the public as

Queen Catherine IV. As soon as Abigail and James came to the realization that the decision

of the next heir to the thrown was left up to our 92 year old grandma, all jealousy and scan-

dals broke through. Both of them were fighting tooth and nail for the throne, and were will-

ing to do anything to just get a crown placed…..

74

An original Haiku by Genesis Pena

The Shielded Bird

A blue bird trapped in a gold cage

Unable to escape

Until the record stops playing its sorrowful song

75

They say there’s talk

Behind the lockers and the lies

Beneath the surface of shallow whispers

That carry secrets from below

There’s talk of a girl

Whose voice carries beyond realms

With a certain loudness to its whisper

Among the thousands of lost souls

And in her eyes there is a pool

Of realizations and dreams beyond com-

pare

But those are hidden from us all

By the green curtains over her eyes

The girl with the fake green eyes

Is partially hidden from reality

Like the fist golden leaf of autumn

She waits hidden from humanity

For the girl with the fake green eyes

Is truly a rarity they say

A wonder hidden from the world

While it prepares itself for her

Behind the fake green eyes

Is a certain rapid fire

A blazing inferno that leaves the rest

Trembling in her awe

The Girl with the Fake Green EyesBy: Toluwani Adedeji

Behind the green costume

Is a gentle little lamb

Who is lost, looking for a shepherd

Guiding with certainty and light

They say to those who are lucky

She reveals herself to them

The unseasoned costume stripped away

Leaves a player in a game

Who leaves her story without a frame

Etched into the sand

On the softball field of endless dreams

She stands the only swan among ducklings

She stands poised and ready

Sights set on flying high

Soaring to greater heights than offered to her

Instead of leaving a fragmented memory

So then the portal is shut

The green doors are closed

Shielding the world from the mysteries

And the contents of her heart

The earth finds beauty once again

To help it cope with the loss of the girl

So among the whispers and shadows she stands

Among the hustle and bustle and commotion

Until there are more things, more souls, more whispers and mur-

murs

And then only her- the girl with the fake green eyes.

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An Ode to Friendship

There is a tale of five girls,

All of whom were friends.

They laughed together blind-eyed,

As if the fun would never end.

Then suddenly, out of the blue,

Reality shattered their world.

High school crashed down,

Forming a void in every girl.

Their paths, once intertwined,

Now rarely crossed.

The laughter disappeared,

For great friends had been lost.

They slowly picked up the pieces,

Reuniting the “original five.”

But popularity held one captive,

Swept her away like a tide.

The four friends now wonder:

How could this be?

No one will ever know.

Friendship is a mystery.

77

By Erica Lisa

I see you there across the room

My heart still skips a beat

So caught up in you, I fail to see

The person you came to meet

That person isn’t me anymore

She’s prettier and sweeter too

I just wish you could see, just realize

How much I still love you

Seeing you smile and seeing you laugh

Brings up memories of how we were before

But that’s just it, they’re memories

Things will never be the same anymore

So instead of approaching you and telling you how I feel

I’ll fake a smile and walk past

Because I see how much happier she makes you

And for that, I hope you two will last

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Rise up

Love greatly,

Get hurt,

Do it again.

Do it anyway-

No one should determine YOUR happiness,

anyway.

By Alex Buttitta

79

Too Far to Reach by Malyack

The star shining in the night sky

Is what you are to me

So wondrous that I would die

Just to look upon thee

Illuminating emptiness

Oh precious mystery

To observe with great interest

But never truly see

In that never ending abyss

Where you forever will stay

Desiring your sweetest kiss

I’ll spend each lonely day

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Scholarship

Faith

Community

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IMPRESSIONS

DePaul Catholic High School