Individualist’s Dream Brieana Williams The sky seems so suffocating. As I stare into the blue wasteland; Unrealistic expectations, I wish to fly farther away: To glide on the feathers of dreams Break past the wall of your limits Watch the monotonous bricks fall down, Be intoxicated with freedom. We’re brainwashed our whole lives to think About how the sky is the limit, But we weren’t informed it was YOUR sky. I’ll soar to where you can’t find me. Promise to be my own person, I’ll demolish your expectations Prove that perfect isn’t always right. Zoom past the sky, into the stars. Eager to break free; leave behind Your ridiculous views on what’s right. Leave your wars, violence, and ignorance. I’ll watch as you crank out more bricks. Fill the hole I made in your wall. I’m accepted sitting in the stars. Embrace individuality. I am welcomed here, with my dreams.

~

The Adventures of Kimchi and Mr. Banana Brieana Williams Adult alternative music lightly drifted through the air. The velvet curtain closed us in the picture booth while the screen in front of us directed us on how to insert our dollar. She munches on the cookie she just bought. The pink smiley face of frosting that covered the top of the cookie covered her face. “Ya think they know where we are?” Her New York accent was still strong even though she’s lived in Florida for a while. Crumbs rained down onto the floor. I shrugged as a response and leaned my head back against the bench. A disgusted look washed across her face and she tossed the cookie to the floor. “That was really nasty!” She raked her tongue with her fingers and laughed at the same time. “Told you so!” I smiled and passed her my smoothie, chocked full of bobas. She gave it one look and glanced back to me. “No! I am NOT drinking that. You just said it tasted like booty!” “The smoothie part is good, though, Kimm!! Just don’t suck up any bobas, they’re blueberry imposters!!” The sound of footsteps echoed from around us, babies crying and mothers trying to shush them. The small booth started to shake and the curtain was ripped open. Our new acquaintances began with their hellos. “Run!” Kimm pushed me out of the booth almost causing my smoothie to spill. “Kimm! YOU ALMOST MADE ME SPILL MY SMOOTHIE!” My voice was much louder than it needed to be, but I liked it like that. Kimm continued running away, leaving me to catch up. Her jet black hair, damaged from dying it different colours every other week, swung behind her. Her Kingdom Hearts T shirt was tied in the back because it was too baggy for her tastes and her super skinny blue jeans clung to her legs while the holes in the knees exposed her lightly tanned skin. We passed the kid’s play area and ran into JC Penney’s. “I told you we should stop befriending people in the mall!” “Shut up! You were the reason they started talking to us, you narcoleptic freak!” She mentioned to the game we happened to be playing earlier which always drew attention to ourselves. “You were the one who came up with the laying down game, Brie!” “You were the one who told me to lay down, Kimm!” We were both still yelling and laughing when we walked into the store. She looked at me, mischief written across her face. I shook my head in refusal, knowing what she was thinking. The look in her dark brown eyes, her eyelids outlined carefully with liner dark as the blood of a vampire, showed me she wouldn’t back down. “No Kimm, you know I’m scared of escalators!” She grabbed my arm, her grip much stronger than you’d expect, and dragged me through the store. “Kimm! Please! Don’t!” I tried pulling away but failed. As a last effort I kicked her in the back of her knee. “AHHH! My leag!” (Her accent comes out the most when she says leg for some reason and I am always the first to make fun of it.) I laughed while running away. “Your LEAG, huh?” She quickly recovered and dragged me over to the escalator and pushed me on the steps used to lift people to the second floor. “Kimm, please, I’m begging you!” She laughed at my suffering. My breathing became jagged and short. She pushed me lightly towards the side but just hard enough to cause me to

panic and scream. My scream echoed through the store and we reached the top floor, only so she could make me go back down. She forced me onto the down one. Two seconds onto the ride an employee walked over and stood at the bottom. “What do you girls think you’re doing?” Her voice was strict and angry. The woman paid no mind to the small panic attack I was having on the escalators and Kimm took the opportunity handed to her to run down the rest of the way, leaving me alone. “Kimm! Don’t leave!!! I’ll make a horse attack you!” Horses are one of her few fears) My breathing got more and more drastic while Kimm pushed past the woman. “You two are scaring the CRAP out of the customers. Get out RIGHT NOW! Which way did you come in from, the parking lot or the mall!? You need to leave now.” I reached the bottom and jump off, still scared and run to fetch my “B.est F.emale F.riend F.or L.ife”. The woman followed me, waiting for me to retrieve her and leave. “Thanks for running off, Kimm!” She was trying to blend in with everyone and shuffled through the Hello Kitty jackets. The woman still trailing me began to speak. “You BOTH need to leave right now.” I grabbed Kimm’s arm and we made our way toward the entrance back into the mall. “We should run!” Kimm laughed while she spoke. “Are you crazy?! Thanks to you I’m being escorted out of the store!” I stared straight ahead and Kimm stopped to look at the watches. Things with Hello Kitty on them always caught her eyes. “Keep going!” The woman behind us chirped up, and continued to follow us until we were out of the store completely. “Thanks, Kimm.” My voice was sarcastic. “We don’t want to buy your crap anyway!” Kimm yelled into the store, always feeling the need to get the last word in. I kept walking until we were a safe distance from the store. “I’m sorry Brie!” I didn’t respond. “I lurve you, Mr. Banana!” At the sound of my nickname, the product of staying up way too late and chugging Red Bulls, a smile danced across my face. “I lurve you too, Kimchi!”

~

To Grandmother’s House We Go Brieana Williams

I lightly press my thumb against the dimly lit yellow button. I smile slightly to myself knowing I’ll have fun, I always do. Just then my thoughts of my childhood are interrupted, the door creaked open and the smell of roasted ham and potatoes escaped from the door and danced its way into my nostrils. I was tugged inside and embraced by my grandmother. Her red polyester sweater, with the print of puppies in holiday hats, rubbed against my cheeks and escaping fibers protruded from her shoulder. After I freed myself from her arms I made my way into the dining room to see the rest of my large close knit family. I walked out of the kitchen and the tune of jingle bells began to fade away as I made my way further down the hall. I drug my feet across the stained tiling; the hall seemed to shake because of how old the home was. A light rumble filled the air as I walked past the ancient heaters screwed into miscellaneous spots on the floor board; all of which rusted and half closed. I stepped into the dining room only to be swept away in a sea of arms. Each relative yelled about how much I had grown since the last time they saw me. My eyes swept the room. In the left corner a brightly lit forest green tree stood with presents, enveloped in brightly coloured paper, at its base. Garland, the colour of the holidays, wrapped around the limbs loosely only to be out-staged by the hundred Christmas ornaments the other grandchildren and I helped make over the years. My eyes then dashed to the table and my mouth immediately started watering. Cakes and cookies took over the table like an army, it was impossible to even know what colour the tablecloth was from not an inch of it could be seen. I was caressed by the aroma of cinnamon and unconsciously began to make my way to the table. My teeth sunk into a freshly baked cookie, and chocolate masked my lips. I looked around smiling, my uncle’s face was tomato red from laughter, and my cousins were playing with their new toys. A smile lit up my face and I knew immediately that I was home.

~

Help Brieana Williams Imagine this: The sun is pounding down on your face. Sweat trickles down your forehead and follows suit down the rest of your face until it splatters onto the ground. Your hands are shaking and it feels as if your stomach is eating itself from starvation. Your tongue is swollen and dry because you have had nothing to drink. You sit on the side of the road staring enviably at passing cars; the people in them laughing, talking on their cell phones, singing along to the radio. How you wish you were one of them. The people passing on the sidewalks look at you as if you were a diseased, starving dog, not worth their time. All you want is something to eat to stop your hands from shaking and a place to lay your head where the rain won’t soak your hair and clothes. The thing is you can’t. You will never be able to imagine what it feels like to be in that position until you’re forced into it. You will never know how self-hatred and shame overwhelm your mind when you’re forced to beg for money because your hands won’t stop shaking and you haven’t had anything to eat. You can’t imagine the feeling of failing as a human being because you have nowhere to sleep at night and you have no means of providing for yourself. We all see these people, sitting on the sidewalk with tears burning their eyes and signs asking for money. And what do we say to ourselves? Oh, they just don’t want to get a job or work. Maybe you think they’ll buy alcohol or drugs if you give them money. Or maybe, you’re just too busy to stop. Don’t worry, I get it, I have often thought or felt these things as well. But what gives us the right to keep walking? Wouldn’t you want someone to help you? I would. I’ve been in the situation before; standing in parking lots asking for money. Feeling like I’m not worthy, like I’m a waste of a human. Wondering if I’ll have something to eat that day or have a place to sleep that night. It’s embarrassing, it really is. And most of you will never have to know what it feels like. The worst part is: we take so much for granted. I hear it all the time walking through the hallways at school; “I hate my parents because they won’t get me a new phone.”,“My life sucks.”, “I wish I could just die.” Nobody truly understands how much worse it could be. Even after being in that position, I find myself doing the same thing. Today, after a fun day at the mall, my boyfriend and I decided to stop by Taco Bell. We were waiting for our order when an older man walked in. His eyes darted to the basket of free mints on the counter and he shuffled over. Sweat is trickled down his neck and he carried an almost empty water bottle. After taking a handful of mints for his dinner he made his way to the drink machine, all the while my eyes followed him. He looked over the drink choices in awe and after a few seconds he walked away, he didn’t try to sneak any soda into his bottle. He walked over to a booth and sat down; his hands tore at the packaging, shaking, his skin leathery from the exposure to the sun. We got our order and sat down at a table near his. He popped the mints in his mouth one after the other; they were probably the only thing he had eaten all day. I felt awful to sit down and eat my food near him, when he wishes he had some. I wanted so bad to give him something to eat,

we had ordered more than enough. But, I didn’t. I just sat there and watched him, until the last mint was gone. After he had gotten up and left the store, taking another handful of mints on the way; my cell phone rang, it was my mother. When I picked up I told her of the awful thing I had just witnessed and how I didn’t help. He just wanted some food. Was I too good to give him some? I had turned into one of the people who often turned me down for food when I needed it. How was I any better than the people I criticized? Why didn’t I help him? The thought raced through my mind the whole way home and it continued until I turned on my computer to write this. Why don’t we help the people we see, sitting on the side of the road, begging for love and care? Why do we keep walking and pretend like we don’t see them, or tell them we don’t have any money when it’s resting just inside our pockets? Who are we to say they don’t need help? If anything, can’t we just give them food if we are afraid they’ll spend the money on other things? Would it be too much trouble to offer them a ride to a nearby shelter? Isn’t there something, anything, you can do to help? If you got nothing from reading this, well, I guess it would be too much trouble to bother helping a fellow human. But, I ask of you one thing; think about this the next time you turn a blind eye to someone begging for your help. If the roles were reversed you wouldn’t want them to keep walking. And I vow, to anyone who may read this, the next time I come across someone who needs my help, I will do all I can to help them, and I hope you do to.

~

In the Dark of the Night Brieana Williams A cry echoed through the house as the living room caved in on my parents. “No!” I yelled and ran over to help. “Please! Mom! Dad! I’m trying to help!” The crying got louder; it rang in my ears like an alarm. What’s that sound? Where’s it coming from? My parents; I have to save them. My brain thrashed through thought after thought. I tried to remove the rubble that pinned my parents to the floor. It scalded my hands. I looked down to them; the skin bubbled up red hot and burned away. Fear washed over my face. Frantically I scanned the room to find the source of pain. Fire, everywhere, the crying continued, I ran up the stairs with help from the adrenaline that pulsed through my veins. The screams of my parents grew louder as I got closer to the source. I reached a door, enveloped in flames. With my shoulder arched I slammed into it, ignoring the fire and how my skin sizzled. The door crashed to the ground and the carpet went ablaze, raging uncontrollably. A crib sat in the corner and inside a baby wept for help. Flames surrounded it like an island. I ran through the flames, my bare feet screaming from the pain. I reached the crib and my parent’s screeching filled my mind. I scooped the baby in my arms and ran back through the sea of fire. I looked back down to the small child’s face. It was me. My thoughts became more frantic. It was unable to comprehend and my throat filled with the smoke poison from the flames. I ran with the baby back down the stairs to my parents. The fire was gone, the house charred and decaying around my feet. The bodies of my parents lay dead on the floor, still semi-covered in debris. The baby I held was gone. My eyes shot open to see that I had fallen asleep at my desk. I tried to calm down my breathing while I rubbed my eyes. After the few minutes it took to wake up I glanced at the clock. The red colour of the numbers and letters burned into my mind: October 31st 8:39 p.m. The exact day my parents died. I pushed the hair out of my eyes and stood up, no longer tired. I slipped my coat on over my tattered band tee and shoved my feet into my beat up old shoes. I made my way through the small house; the walls were covered in knick knacks from all over the world. Out of all the adoptive parents I got stuck with these. I opened the door and was immediately slapped by the cold wind that bit at my nose. I slammed the door behind me and began walking. I didn’t care where I went, as long is it was away from here. Small children in costumes rushed by with bags of candy, one dressed as a bee and the other a cowboy both greatly excited by the “loot” they just received. I walked until I could no longer feel my hands. My breath made small clouds in front of my face. The only people left on the streets besides me were a few straggling trick or treaters that their parents couldn’t drag away from free candy. I made my way to a park across town where I would play as a kid, back when I lived in the orphanage. The trees fenced in the small playground and swing set. The cold weather had stripped them of their leaves and they all stood bare. The place was

deserted with the exception of a small girl swaying back and forth on a swing. Her long black hair hid her face. A tattered black dress hung to her knees and her fingernails were caked with blood. Scratch marks were etched up her arms and legs. I jerked my jacket off and ran towards her. The faster I ran the slower I seemed to be. My feet pounded against the grass and frost clung to my jeans. My eyes shut as my head pounded against the ground. I opened them to find the grass pressed against my face and the young girl standing over me. “I’ve been waiting here a while, you know. It’s rude to be late.” Her voice was harsh. The same blood on her nails masked her face, fangs shone in the moonlight and as she leaned closer the smell of death and decay attacked my nostrils. I held my breath to keep from gagging and she yanked me up off the ground and back onto my feet. “Wh-Who are you!?” I tried to back away but her gaze kept me locked in place. Her eyes were completely black. It was as if she were the devil herself. She cocked her head to the side and smiled. “Didn’t you miss me?” Her voice seemed mocking. Confusion swept over my face. “I mean, I was there the night your parents passed away, don’t you remember?” My eyes slammed shut and the nightmares came back. Her cold fingers pulled my eyelids open and she giggled. “Your parents wanted me to come and get you. They miss you a lot.” I was unable to comprehend what she was saying it was as if my brain was paralyzed by what an awful conundrum I had gotten myself into. It was as if she read my mind and began to explain. “I was who lit the fire. The big man down stairs sent me to do it.” The wicked smile on her face spread from ear to ear and her razor sharp teeth clenched together. With that, her hand smashed the ground and a dark abyss opened up. The gateways of hell lay right in front of me. Her hands clutched onto my arms and her nails dug into my skin, causing blood to pour out. I tried pulling away but her strength was just too much. With one more yank I flew into the pit where I seemed to fall forever. As soon as I hit something solid my flesh began to burn. It was if my dreams were coming true. The smell of charred flesh floated through the air. My breathing became frantic and my legs thrashed. I was trying to stand up but it was as if I was being held to the spot. My eyes shifted quickly to my ankles. Claws dug into my legs and my blood covered the hands of my destroyer. His tongue lapped over my open wounds while my blood dripped down his chin. This sight was horrific and slowly I began to loose consciousness. Just as I thought I could take no more, wings made from human bones erupted from his back. His teeth lurched into my stomach and he began devouring my flesh. Although I could no longer see what was happening I felt as if I were being torn into pieces, which wasn’t far from the truth. I managed to open my eyes one last time before his claws, acting as daggers, sliced across my face. I could no longer open my eyes. I struggled to breath from the blood clogging my throat. Finally my heart quit pumping the blood and I spit the remaining few mouthfuls out.

Everything went black.

~

Pretty Flower in an Ugly Pit Fernanda Schaefer I once found a pretty flower in an ugly pit. But time went by, and I forgot to water it. When I went back, I saw that it had died. So I sat on the ground, and I cried and cried. But what I didn’t tell you is that this story isn’t true. For I would never walk into a pit just out of the blue.

~ Stolen Sleep Mariah Schaefer I wake up early in the morning from a long and peaceful dream I’m brought back to reality by what sounds like a scream I quickly open my eyes and realize I’m fatigued but the noise never stops I find myself intrigued Panicking, I look around the room trying to find the source of the doom I think it’s someone randomly screaming but I find out it’s just the telephone ringing I get out of bed desperately with my eyes still trying to see I reach the telephone, finally and find out the call wasn’t for me Now it’s too late for I can’t go back to sleep I wait for my dreams to come but they never really reach me

Once Upon a Time Mackenzie Flowers This story starts with the ever-cliché saying, ‘once upon a time.’ However this story does not end with, ‘and they lived happily ever after.’ This is not a tale of a beautiful princess who finds and falls for her prince charming, that would be unrealistic. No, this is a story of a girl who loses everything. It was nothing she did, it was just…fate.

“Kaitlyn bring your father another helping.” Kaitlyn nodded at her mother before putting together yet another plate of food for her father. She wiped her hands on the cloth apron tied around her waist. Kaitlyn brought her father the new plate and took the old one back to be washed.

The plate was almost completely clean from her father licking it clean. Kaitlyn put the plate in the bucket full of soap water sitting on the small wooded table in their kitchen. She dunked her hand in the bucket and fished around for a minute looking for the wash rag. She scrubbed the plate until it was clean and set it out to dry.

Kaitlyn sat down at the table next to her mother and continued meanding her sister’s dress. A knock sounded at the back door and Kaitlyn’s best friend Marcus came waltzing in.

“Marcus, what are you doing here?”

“Am I not allowed to visit you anymore?”

“Marcus, now is just not a good time.” Marcus’s smile faded slightly. His green eyes still held the light that they always had but his face wad slowly changing into a frown.

“When is it ever a good time Kaitlyn?” Kaitlyn stood up and looked at her mother with apologetic eyes.

“I apologize mother. I’ll see him out.” She pushed her best friend out the door closing it behind her. “My father has been dinking again. He already hates you and in his state now he could come up with random reasons to beat you.” Marcus turned slightly away from her.

“I don’t know why you stay here Kaitie.”

“I can’t leave my mother or my sisters. They need me.”

“Your mother—“

“My mother doesn’t do anything except obey my father’s orders.” She interrupted him loudly, “Jessie, Marybeth, and Kahlyn aren’t old enough to do anything for themselves.”

“Kaitie, take your mother and sisters and leave. I’ll help you.”

“I can’t Marcus, you know that.” Marcus was silent for a minute.

“The king is going to find out you know. Your father is only going to get you all in trouble.” Kaitlyn adjusted the dress on her small frame.

“Maybe they’ll just take him away. Maybe they’ll leave the rest of us alone.”

“Don’t count on it Kaitie.” Marcus walked away without another word. He headed back to the house that he shared with his mother and sister.

Kaitlyn put her younger sisters to bed and then helped her own broken mother to her room. She made her way to her room after making sure her father didn’t need anything. She thought about her mother before sleep took her.

The death of Kaitlyn’s brother had hit the whole family hard but her mother got the worst of it. None of them had expected for Andrew to die in the war. He was strong, fit, healthy and a good fighter. He should have been able to come back to them.

Kaitlyn’s mother seemed to lose the will to live after her son died. She completely shut down, she didn’t speak. She locked herself in her room and refused to come out. She stopped taking care of herself and her family. She wouldn’t even move from her bed. She had lost her only son and it had broken her.

Andrew was always the one who always protected Kaitlyn and her sisters from their father. When he died Kaitlyn had to fill his shoes but she wasn’t ready. A girl at the young age of fourteen should not have to take care of an entire household. But she did it, she took care of her entire family. She protected her sisters from their almost always drunk father, everything.

Sometimes at night Kaitlyn would talk to her brother. She told him what was happening in their lives and what her father was illegally doing. And Andrew would listen. Some nights she felt like he was there with her. She could almost feel him taking her into his strong arms and holding her until she fell asleep.

Kaitlyn was welcomed in the market the next day. She went around to her usual placed and bought everything she would need that day. Most people on the road greeted her warmly, after Andrew had died the town rallied around the family to help them out until Kaitlyn could get back on her feet and start providing for her family.

Mrs. Marson gave Kaitlyn free bead every once and a while, Mr. Parks always reduced what she paid for meat and Miss. Tamblake made dresses for Jessie, Marybeth, and Kahlyn. Kaitlyn was grateful, she wouldn’t know what to do if she didn’t have these people helping her out.

When she go home it was silent. Her sisters weren’t playing outside, her mother wasn’t hanging the laundry. There was no sound except the chirping of birds. She called out each of her sister’s names but received no answer.

Kaitlyn walked slowly up the wood door that now stood hanging open. When she stepped inside the first thing she saw was the blood. It was everywhere and on everything, bright red and still gleaming. She dropped her purchases, covered her mouth and continued down the short hall to the kitchen.

Her mother lay across the table, her head rolled off to one side. There was more blood dripping off the table by her mother’s head. Kaitlyn screamed and backed away. Her mother was dead, there was nothing she could do.

“Kahlyn!” She screamed, “Jessie, Marybeth!” Kaitlyn yelled the names of her sisters over and over again but got only silence in return. She ran through the small house looking for any sign of them. Her father was dead on his bed, a stab wound through his heart. Kaitlyn became more frantic, she tried to think of what her sisters were doing when she left for the market.

When she made her way outside she found them. Her beloved sisters lay right nest to one another, the tree of them holding hands bloody holes through each of their stomachs. Jessie was seven and Marybeth and Kahlyn were only five. They were too young to die. Kaitlyn collapsed on the ground before she could make it to them. She screamed again and it dissolved into a sob. She cried and cried. She couldn’t move, her body racked with sobs. Her whole family was dead.

“Kaitie…” Kaitlyn’s head snapped up. She looked around, searching for her best friend. She found hi slumped against the house.

“Marcus!” Kaitlyn managed to get up and stumble over to him before collapsing on the ground again. She pressed her hands to the open wound in this chest. Marcus sputtered and coughed up some blood.

“I couldn’t—save them Kaitie.” He paused to cough again, “I tried, I did…they came, the king’s men. They killed everyone Kait.”

“No…Marcus no!” Kaitlyn started crying again. She laid her head down on her friend’s stomach and wept. She felt him raise his hand and place it on her head. Then her went limp, his hand slid off her and he stopped breathing. Kaitlyn sat up and rubbed her face. She was covered in blood, it was on her skin, in her hair and on her dress.

“It’s your fault!” She screamed at her now dead father, “You’re the reason they all died! You killed them!”

~

The Greatest Week of My Life Derrion Herman

I had always seen movies of what it would be like to go to an actual summer camp for kids my age, “The Parent Trap”, “Camp”, “Band Camp” etc, but I had never actually been to a summer camp. So as an incoming junior this past summer I was unaware of the abundant amusement that I was getting ready to experience that week in July. My youth group and I arrived as one of the first groups at the camp that first morning. My first impression was “Wow this is really nice!”. I had never been to a place that looked so enjoyable. There were indoor and outdoor basketball courts, fields for football and ultimate frisbee, a pool, and I hadn’t even seen the half of it. After about fifteen minutes of being there kids and other youth groups began pouring in. There ended up being about a thousand teens that came. We packed our bags into our dorms and the people that we roomed with turned out to be great. Here’s where the really fun part comes in. All of the youth groups had been divided into eight teams by color. My team was the orange team. Throughout the week each team would compete in entertaining activites to help add points to each teams score. There would also be individual competitions with 1-3 people selected from each team and a mega relay race as the last competition at the end of the week. The games each team competed in were very interesting. In one game we played ultimate frisbee but with a raw squid as the frisbee. Sound gross right? Well it turned out to be a lot of fun. And a few people actually ate the squid as a dare. When teams werent competing there was free time. I spent most of my free time in the recreational center playing either basketball or blacklight dodgeball. I also went swimming in the lake which was really fun too. To top the end of each night off, every one would meet in the main building to worship and hear inspirational speakers tell their story. It was incredible the amount of teenagers that had a loving passion for God and was pleasing to see. After that we would all go to our dorms where you’d think we’d go to sleep, but the nights were never over. My roomates would crack jokes and talk until about 1 am. As girly as this may sound, we even had pillow fights. But not the giggly, feathers flying everywhere type of pillow fights. We hit as hard as we could and would occasionally gang up on one another. Needless to say it was really fun. On the last day we had the mega relay which went across the whole camp twice, and which ever team won would get a lot of points. Each team member was assigned to do something. My job was to knock down 3 three point shots in the gym. The race started off intense. As it came to me I hit my threes and we ran out the gym in first place, but it was far from over. Our team would go from first to second in each task. As it got to the final parts of the relay our team surpassed the team ahead of us to gain first place. The last task was to dissintegrate two bars of soap in a kiddie pool using nothing but your hands. Each team would catch up to this task and this is when it got real. Our team and another team came to our last bit of soap. We ended up winning and our whole team went wild! The last night as the camp staff tallied each of the teams point and began eliminating teams, only two teams stood left. The orange team and the purple team. It was intense. “Coming in second place at this weeks

camp…The Purple team!”. That means that the orange team had one and we all went balistic! As our reward we got to have a pool/pizza party with just the orange team. At the party all I would hear was boisterous laughter and amusement. We all felt glorified to walk out as winners and this would be a day that I would never forget. The next morning it was time for every one to leave and give their farewells. I said goodbye to my roomates and we said that we’d hopefully see eachother next year. My youth group and I left and I felt like I was leaving a world that was surreal and going back to the real world. As I’m writing this summer camp is only a couple of months away, and honestly, I’m ready to have the second greatest week of my life!

~

Inspirational Essay Made Up From Quotes Ishy Singh "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is not our darkness, but our light that most frightens us." "Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows, it's a very mean and nasty place and I don't care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard you hit, it's about hard you can get hit and keep moving forward, how much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done! Now if you know what your worth, than go out and get what your worth. But don't point fingers saying you aren't there because of him, or her, or anybody! Cowards do that and that ain't you! Your better than that! " "Once a person told me that death had smiled at him and all he did was smile back." "One inch at a time." "We will fight back! " " If you want something, go get it, period."

~

Fire Gabi Fisher Fire is a soothing thing, a curious thing— get close and it wipes away worry, but get too close, and you’ll never worry again.

~ Willow Gabi Fisher Ah, sweet Willow! Why hast God abandoned you in your time of need? And in your last moments, your sweet tears fall, circling back to be wounded again.

~

When the Forest Falls and the Leaves Turn Brown Gabi Fisher When the forest falls and the leaves turn brown, The days will grow short, the sun will burn red, And Bloods will run rampant, But when the moon’s orbs turn violet And the Goddess’s will is remade, Then the cat will sing again And the world will be reborn

~

Angel Gabi Fisher Cry for your brothers Drowned at the stream. Cry for your sisters Burned at the seams. Cry for the Angel Whose blood turns to tears, And cry for the Angel Whose child you will bear. Bleed for your neighbor Alone in the haze. Bleed for the stranger Filling your gaze. Bleed for the Angel Whose blood you will spill, And bleed for the Angel Whose love you will kill.

~ Angel Gabi Fisher Mama bird can’t get any rest. Little egg fills up the nest. The years go by, And we must move on. New and bright, a pretty day. Little bird goes out to play. The years go by, And we must move on. Mama bird stays home and cries While little bird learns to fly. The years go by, And we must move on. And far too soon will come the day, That little bird will fly away. And the years go by, So we must move on. Little bird can’t get any rest. Her own little ones fill up the nest. And so it goes On and on.

Dark Martyr kyvin9

“How long has he been in there?” A guard asked, sweat beads racing down his forehead. “I mean, can he get out?” The guard next to him began to laugh.

“Not at all, those chains are the heaviest steel in our nation, and the Sacrum, they bound the steel in their blessings, he’ll never escape.”

“But-he is so young. What did he do? And why the mask?”

Turning to face the other guard he began to speak. “Yes, I believe he is only 19…”

Suddenly from behind the bars the prisoner began to speak, his voice was gentle, strong but barbaric.

“Yes, I am only 19, I’ve been in here since I was 14 years old.” Standing to his feet the prisoner took one step forward until the shackles around his ankles restricted him from further movement. His bare chest glistening from sweat and dirt, intricate and ancient marking littered his chest and arms. “I am Sacrum,”

One of the guards aimed his spear towards the prisoner and gritted his teeth. “You be silent! You defiled the name of the Sacrum, the Temple and your family. You have no right to speak.”

“You know,” The prisoner sat back down and rattled his chains. “the moment I get out of here, I’ll come and have a nice chat with you. Personally.”

“Are you threatening a Knight of the High Temple?!” The guard became furious, his hands gripping tightly around the shaft of his spear.

“Not at all, not at all.”

Suddenly butting in, the next guard continued to speak. “So, what happened, if you’re a Sacrum how did you end up in here?”

The prisoner looked to him; a smile crossed his face behind his mask. He had an odd skin tone, almost pale, but still dark like the old natives. Built like a true warrior, every muscle in him developed for power. Strange, intricate and divine markings littered his torso and arms, until they vanish beneath the locks on his hands. “I was taken into the Sacrum temple at the perfect age of six, for the Sacrum Elders saw ‘the divine spirit’ waiting to be awakened in my soul. So I began my training, for seven years I trained with these people, grew into their religion, and followed their every rule.”

“Then what happened?” The guard asked now leaning toward the cell.

“I was going into my eighth year being a Sacrum, I was 14 and there was a mass demonic attack in a small village-turns out, a sect of Demi-Souls were assisting the demons in the attack. Naturally the Sacrum eliminated the threat, but I…”

“That’s enough, prisoner. That event shall not be spoken of, now be silent!” The guard adjusted his gear and sighed. Rolling his muscular neck, the prisoner began to shake his chains wildly, the sheer weight of the chains cracking the stone below him. “Enough!” The first guard cried out. “I will execute you myself, you heathen!”

“Then come on inside, use your spear, kill me!” The prisoner stood to his feet, this time his body seeming to tense, the markings on his body bulging from his skin. “Do it-Knight of the High Temple.”

The guard pressed himself against the bars and spat on the prisoner. “I cannot wait to see you beheaded, it will be a day I shall never forget, nor will the kingdom.”

“I cannot wait either, they won’t kill me.”

Suddenly, from a flight of stairs leading to the upper level, heavy ominous footsteps echoed down below. After a brief second, three men in elegant robes and clothing came into view, their faces stern and intense. “Stand down, Knights.”

“Sir!” The guards both bowed and stepped aside. The robed men stepped up to the cell, but they kept their distance.

“Hello Kaimen, it has been quite some time-five years, correct?”

Kaimen looked to the man, the mask covered his face, but he cringed at the mere sight of the men. “Yes, five years. And you’re all still as ugly as before.”

The other robed man quickly moved forward. “Watch your tongue, Kaimen. You know you are about to go on trial, do you really want us to abandoned you in the court?”

“No, sir.” Kaimen whispered, lowering his head.

“Knights, open the gate, it is time.” The three men stepped back as the guards opened the cell door and cautiously entered.

Holding his hands to them in an submissive manner, Kaimen shook his chains. “Time to let me out.” Taking off the main set of chains, Kaimen was allowed to stand and moved freely, but his ankles and hands were still bound.

The group of men made their way up the cold stone stairs, their heavy footsteps echoing through the thick damp air. Kaimen looked around him, nothing had changed. His mind began to reel, as the memory of when he was first dragged down into that hellish place hit him. “So,” he began to speak. “Am I to be executed?”

One of the robed men responded gently. “Patience, Kaimen, patience.” A large, molding wooden set of doors laced with iron awaited them at the top of the stairs. An ominous, heavy feeling lingered over Kaimen’s shoulders, like the weight of the world was upon him. “Kaimen,” one of the robed men turned to him, with a concerned look on his face. “Speak to no one, look at no one, and stand tall. We will bring you out of this.”

Looking away from them, Kaimen sighed. “Are you to be my advocates?”

“We always have been, do not be daft. Now come, the Elders await.”

The three men where known as the Trinity, the men who protected the young Sacri (plural for Sacrum) when they first came to the Temple. The Trinity had been especially kind to Kaimen when he arrived, and against their will, they tossed him in prison.

“Here we go,” Kaimen announced as the doors opened, and a flood of light spill in. The sudden roar of a crowd overwhelmed Kaimen, the outside, a now foreign place to him.

The city surrounding the temple was immense, massive and always filled with people. Kaimen’s trial was a dated event, and the entire came torment him. Their riotous jeering and cries of distain filled the brisk morning air. The trial was in the Temple courtyard, a beautiful and majestic place, it was called Eden.

“Do not look to them, Kaimen. Just walk.” One of the robed men stated. They began to cross through the sea of people, a clear path made for them by a long line of Temple Knights. “Curse you, Kaimen-demon!” Someone yelled from the crowd.

“Murderer!”

“You cursed child, return to the abyss where you came from!”

Kaimen paid no mind to those who hated him; he only walked quickly through the courtyard making his way to the other side. Food began to fly towards Kaimen, heads of lettuce, tomatoes, and potatoes, anything that could be thrown, was. Kaimen gently ducked and dodge the projectiles with ease, letting the guard who spat on him take all of the damage. “I appreciate how well you protect me, Knight.”

“Be silent!” The guard ordered him as a head of lettuce hit him. Kaimen shrugged his shoulders and rattled his chains, trying to find something to get his mind off of the situation.

The walk to the other end of Eden seemed like an eternity, a torturous one. A weight like a stone developed in Kaimen’s stomach, he was nervous; prepared, but nervous. Once they reached the other end of Eden, the Trinity dispersed, and the Knights stood next to Kaimen. One of the Trinity turned back to the crowd, raised his arms and yelled. “Silence! Bow and pay respect to the Elders!” The ground seemed to shake when he spoke, a force unlike any other rushed over the crowd, making them silent.

Arching high into the air was a flight of marble stairs, they led to a large platform. Three thrones were set in an arrow shape, all uniquely designed. Suddenly, from what seemed to be from thin air, three men appeared. One was an elderly man, short, long flowing white hair, draped in an elegant black robe, its collar almost engulfing his whole head. The next man was middle aged, tall, muscular and covered in plated silver armor. His face held many battle scars, giving him the essence of strength and courage.

The last man was young, almost the age of Kaimen. He was slender, with sharp features and braided blonde hair, he wore simple clothes, nothing elegant and over done, he seemed common, but there was a presence about him that demanded the utmost respect. “Bow to the Elders! We are humbled, by your presence.” The Trinity all said in unison.

Taking their seats, the old man in the front, the warrior on the right and the young man on his left.

One of the Trinity stepped forward and began to speak: “My Elders, we come here today for the trail and judgment of Kaimen Del’arose, the 7th Sacrum of the High Temple. Five years ago, Mr. Del’arose lost control of his Divine, and massacred an entire town. He states they all became infected by demons and that they needed to be cleansed.”

The Elder to the right sat up and spoke. “Mr. Del’arose, do you admit to this crime?”

Kaimen was silent for a moment, his head hanging low. “Yes, my Elder, I admit-but I know what I saw, what I felt-all of the villagers fell to the darkness.”

“Then please explain to me why your fellow Sacri, failed to see this as well?” The warrior Elder questioned. “Why did only you see this?”

“If I could tell you, my Elder, on my honor…”

“There is little honor left in you, Kaimen. You taint the name of the Temple.” The Elder interrupted. “We call upon the six Sacrum, as witnesses.” The crowd began to whisper and talk amongst themselves, the Sacrum, rarely ever appeared before the public, as if they were legends.

A sudden dense, overpowering aura filled the air. Kaimen inhaled deeply, and slowly exhaled as he shook his chains again.

From what seemed to be thin air, six figures covered in hoods emerged behind Kaimen. The crowd gasped, the Sacrum literally came from nowhere.

Turning and facing them Kaimen bowed respectfully. “My fellow Sacri, long has it been since I’ve seen you, you all look well.”

One of the hooded figures stepped forward, and removed his covering. He had short buzzed hair, multiple markings covering his face and neck. He was a handsome man, but the still expression on his face suggested a life on pain. “It is good to see you as well, how is life behind the mask?” The man asked sarcastically.

“Dark,” Kaimen replied with a slight laugh. Kaimen’s mask was different. It was a pale golden color, the same markings on the side of the mask, but the face was terrifying. It was an engraving with few lines and shapes, that came together to make something of a screaming face. A face filled with malice, shame, fear and power-and if you stared long enough, some say, you can hear a faint screaming in the skies.

“Aimon,” Kaimen took a step toward the man, and leaned in close to his ear. “please, don’t let them kill me. Please.”

Gripping Kaimen’s shoulders, Aimon pulled him in closer and gently responded. “We cannot lie, Kaimen. We all saw what you did, though we still are slow to believe it, but the Elders will not accept false statements from us, I am sorry.”

“But it wasn’t me,” Kaimen shot back tensing up. “you know who I am, what I am-and that was not me Aimon.”

The two pulled away from each other, Aimon only shaking his head slowly. “What can I do against the Elders, we swore an oath, Kaimen. You of all people know this-but I will try. Something, for you.”

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