magpie literary magazine 2016

Magpie

The Bryn Mawr Middle School Literary Magazine

2016

Front Cover: Annie Freed

Back Cover: Caroline Plant

Editorial Staff 2016:

Meron Allesandro, Katie Butler, Annie Freed, Katherine Giroux, Maddi Mirro, Caro-

line Plant, Zawadi Sankofa, Maya Shah, Riley Woods

Contributors:

Mia Aversano, Lucie Boucher, Vanessa Brecher, Jessica Bryant, Katie Butler, Claire

Churchill, Page Clancy, Carrie Couch, Maddi Das, Cara Denton, Zoe Faraone, Jordan

Flowers, Gabby Forbes, Annie Freed, Shreya Gandhi, Elizabeth Georges, Kat Gillies,

Katherine Giroux, Nafia Hunter, Jesse Kwon, Sydney Leyba, Lana Milman, Maddi

Mirro, Chloe Murray, Mason Philippe-Auguste, Caroline Plant, Rory Powell, Jenna

Resnik, Elizabeth Sacktor, Zawadi Sankofa, Gaby Sequeira, Maya Shah, Lillian Shat-

tuck, Grace Williams, Maggie Winstead, Ariana Yeganeh, Anna Zivkovich

Middle School Faculty:

Beth McDonald, Claire Hruban

by Carrie Couch

Writing Away

Everyone else is writing away,

Meanwhile here I am, wondering what to say.

My shot of a tree isn't graceful or nice

The branches don't fill me with awe,

The meaning of life isn't spelled in its leaves

But aren't poems meant to make you drop your jaw?

Metaphors and hidden meanings, morbid dark and dim,

Not gonna write a poem like that, thought the tree is sufficiently grim!

I’m starting to lose all my senses, my thoughts won't return to my head,

While I sit here and freak,

A good poem I seek,

But I ended up writing this instead.

by Carrie Couch

Best Years of Our Lives

It’s the best time of our lives

With late nights and blue lights

Soaring like social butterflies

Just trying to escape our minds


Awake all hours of the night

We can no longer close our eyes

We can’t slow down time

They’re the best years of our lives

Our hearts are racing against time

Just trying to meet deadlines

Until we reach our redline


Spent planning out our suicides

Hoping that change will arrive

As we lose all will to fight


With no reason to care tonight

We’re empty and we’re drained of pride

With no reason to care tonight


Together but alone, alright

We’re outsiders and out of sight

Still our worst enemies are our own minds


Our hearts are racing against time

Just trying to meet deadlines

Until we reach our redline


Spent planning out our suicides

Hoping that change will arrive

As we lose all will to fight

We’ll let go in our right

Pretend it will all be alright

No worries in our sight

We’ll have the time of our lives

So let’s have a toast to our last night

It’s the last night of our lives

by Mason Philippe-Auguste

by Cara Denton

by Kat Gillies

Loud Silence of an Angel

How easy it is to be quiet.

For her it was always a loud silence,

A silence where saying so little was like screaming.

How easy it is to be forgotten,

When all she wanted was to be remembered.

Whenever she called all she ever heard was white noise.

How easy it is to be broken,

With a heart like glass dropped one too many times.

People grow and change they would tell her,

But all she could ever hear was her own heartbeat.

by Kat Gillies

by Maddi Mirro

The Broken Heart

Sunlight crept through the large windows as I wandered the ever going halls. My tiny cream colored boots clicking with delight each time they touched the floor.

“And where might you be going my girl?” asked Rosemary the cook.

Me and my many siblings called her Auntie Rose since she was like a second Mom to us. Auntie Rose was a busy woman who often wore a simple servant’s dress. Her hair was usually pulled up under her hat, and her brown eyes were always welcoming.

“I’m going to the sorcerer's tower! If, I can find it,” I replied.

Auntie Rose let out one of her hearty chuckles and said, “Child! How many times do we have to tell you the sorcerer’s tower is that way?” She pointed one of her plump fingers to the oppo-site direction I was going.

“Oops! Thanks Auntie Rose,” I called, my blond curls flying in my face as I ran towards the sorcerer’s tower. In the background I faintly heard Auntie Rose call something, but when I turned

around, she had disappeared. Not even pondering on where she went as I headed towards the tower, I skipped through the hallway my dress flaring up with each skip. The hallways of my palace are long, wide, and have many windows. The floor is blue with different golden lines running through it, while the ceiling was a long white arch. Since I am five years old, getting distracted is what I do. Lit-erally, it is like my job whether I am chasing butterflies or all of a sudden I want to play with my dolls instead of helping my Mom and Auntie Rose cook.

So I did just that as I ran towards one of the large windows. This one was my favorite. It was a glass window of a majestic dragon. Its bright red wings were spread across the window with their many different shades of orange and red almost appearing like raging fire. Its head was to the side and its mouth which was spitting out flames was open. The horns of the creature were spiraled out in deep purple, and his tail curling beneath his legs was long and slimy. The dragon’s two pairs of legs and feet each had purple claws which were sharp and cruel. The window was overlooking the acres of jungle which surrounded my palace.

I stood there transfixed at that sight when all the sudden, I heard a familiar voice call to me.

“Sis!” I turned around and saw one of my many big brothers Rowan. Rowan has shaggy light brown hair matched with bright blue eyes. As usual, he has his bow slung across his back and is wearing leather pants and a leather shirt.

“And where are you supposed to be?” Asked Rowan. While I have many siblings, the only ones that actually get me are Rowan and Iris. Of my older siblings, they believe in me and love me.

“Ummm, at the sorcerer’s tower…,” I stammered slightly embarrassed that I had lost track of what I was supposed to do.

“Come on then, I guess I should walk you there so you don’t wander off again,” Rowan gen-tly scolded me.

“Okay then!” I said. Even though I was a little ashamed that Rowan had to walk me to the sorcerer’s tower, I was mainly excited at the thought of walking with my idol and bigger brother. I skipped ahead, scouting the area for evil clowns! No, seriously, clowns are evil. I know it! I skipped around until my brother and I finally reached a long door. The door was a lightish brown and was decorated with golden carvings of things that happened decades ago. In the middle of the carvings, there was a clearing with runes which came from ancient times. A sharp snap awakened me from my daze. I flipped around to see my brother, a smirk on his face to.

“Ready to finally see what is beyond this door,” he said to me.

“Yes!” I squeaked. Apprehension filled my stomach at the thought of finally discovering what was beyond this door. For five years now, I had waited not so patiently to see what the sorcer-er’s tower was really like. My little hand grasped the golden handle. I gulped down my apprehension, filling with excitement at the thought of having my first magic lesson and seeing what was beyond this door. After a big heave from me, the door gave a slight creak of protest and swung open. Gin-gerly, I ventured into the sorcerer’s tower, my little boots clicking across the floor. Inside was the most amazing sight my eyes had ever laid on. The walls were covered with shelves which were filled to the brim with books of many colors written in many different languages, and old tapestries, which told tales of ancient battles and events. The floor was made of what probably used to be white

stone, but over time, it had faded to a dull yellow. Seeing how damp the floor was made me glad that I had decided to wear shoes this morning and not go barefoot while I wandered around the halls.

Nervously I walked down the long hallway before me. Like I said before, the walls were cov-ered with books and tapestries but as I went on even more of them squeezed together in one place. Fiddling with one of my curls, I wandered further and further until I came across a circular room. The room was wider and higher than the arched hallway had been. It was covered with not just books and tapestries, but also items, patterns, and runes, which I had never seen. The room was filled with sunlight which was pouring through a green tinted window that replaced the ceiling. To the edge of the room was a dark wood desk cluttered with books, scrolls, and more items which I could not identify, and through those piles of books, I could vaguely see a young man with glasses holding a book.

Hmm…. I wondered, Could that be Professor Heartwood? Professor Heartwood was a very con-cealed sorcerer who had taught all of my older siblings. He was hardly seen outside of the workshop, though Rowan and Iris told me that once you got to know him, he was a very pleasant man. This morning Professor Heartwood had left a note in my bedroom politely asking me to visit him, which is why I am here right now.

“Hello?” I asked, hoping the man would leave his book and talk to me. Unfortunately, all that came from him was a distracted “yeah, yeah.” Maybe I should shake him? That might get him out of his book world! I thought. Soon after that “amazing” thought, I stepped into the large circle only to hear a sudden whoosh! Startled, I jumped back merely seconds before a giant map came down. “This is definitely going to be harder than I thought” I muttered, now noticing that the ground was covered with a variety of objects. In a dainty way I slipped off my boots knowing they would only slow me down and get me caught in the objects. Now that my boots were out of the way, it was time to try to get Professor Heartwood, hooray. First things first, I took a step back into the room noticing that the floor was covered with a soft purple rug instead of moldy stone. With each step I took, my feet sunk into the shaggy rug. Ignoring the squishy feeling underneath my feet, I continued on. My heart pounded when I finally reached the giant map which was lying on its side. The map looked to be as tall as me and was almost as wide as the entire room! I sucked in as much air as I could and attempt-ed to leap over the map. For a terrifying moment I hung in the air, then I crashed into the soft rug. Thankful that it was rug under me and not stone, I continued on my quest to reach Professor Heart-wood. Luckily I managed to dodge all the objects in the way with no problems.

When I finally reached the man, I could clearly see that he had thick brown hair and a long crooked nose. This person was definitely Professor Heartwood, with his long black robe covered with paintings of stars. Cautiously, I made my way to the back of the desk, avoiding any fallen ob-jects. After inching my way to his face, I could not help it. I timidly poked his nose and suppressed my giggles by covering my mouth. The professor jumped up so startled and tipped over his chair. Professor Heartwood let out a loud groan when his face hit the ground followed up with a giant “OWWW.” A few seconds later he blinked, and I came into focus.

“Wh-What are you doing here?” he asked, sounding genuinely confuzzled.

“Umm, you left me a n-” he quickly interrupted.

“I remember you! You are Hudson’s 7th child. Wasn’t your name Ava?”

“Um no it was Av-.”

Again Professor Heartwood interrupted, “I remember now!” he loudly declared. I was seri-ously starting to hate this guy. “It was Avia! What a strange name. Why did your parents give it to you again?”

I was starting to realize that this conversation was going to get even worse if I did not change the subject so I said, “Why did you ask me to come here Professor Heartwood?”

“Here? You? Oh yes! I brought you here to teach you magic just like I taught your older brothers and sisters!”

The moment he said the word magic my heart beat as fast as the wings of a hummingbird. Magic! I had watched patiently as my older brothers and sisters had one by one been called up to Professor Heartwood’s tower and learned the fine art of magic. Cosima was the closest sibling to my age and loves to bully me. Ever since she learned to use magic, she has used all sorts of tricks to bul-ly me in the most horrible ways. Now was my chance to protect myself from her and prove I am just as awesome as her! All of the sudden I was alarmed by a sudden sound. The sound was loud and clunky almost like thousands of pieces of armor rubbing together. Spooked by the sudden appear-ance of the sound, I asked Professor Heartwood, “What was that?” though it came out as more of a panicked expression than a curious question.

“Oh that was nothing to worry about,” he waved his hand dismissively as if proving to me it was not important.

Then out of nowhere came a huge “ROAR RRRRRRRR!!!!!”

Before I even had a chance to ask the question, he said, “Now that is something to worry about.” Frowns creased his face, telling me this was no normal issue. But then again was there even such thing as a normal issue in this palace? Professor Heartwood jumped out of his seat and started to swiftly make his way to the exit. I had no idea he could move that speedy. Seeing as he was the adult in the room, I decided that it was probably safe to stick with him during the emergency. Right? I struggled to keep up with his face as we half jumped, half slid on giant scrolls.

“Where did you get these giant scrolls from?” I asked. The scrolls which my parents owned were never this big.

“Well let’s just say giants create some pretty big things.”

When we finally reached the door, Professor Heartwood stepped forward to open it. But, just before his hand grasped the handle of the door, the door let out a creak and started to fall to-wards him. Just in the nick of time Professor Heartwood leaped out of the way of the incoming door. Professor Heartwood stared at his beautiful door, its golden runes shining in the dim light of the torches. The professor sighed and timidly placed his fingers on the door tracing them around the shapes the runes made.

“I always knew it was old, but I never thought-,” he began to say before I interrupted him.

“Professor Heartwood look!” I pointed at the hallway or what used to be a hallway. Now bits of the ceiling were falling down, and people were screaming as they ducked for cover. Among them were Rowan and Auntie Rose. Above them huge creatures were shaking the ceiling. They had black shaggy fur which died down around their legs and beady black eyes. On the sides of their

heads where a normal person’s ears would be were small black holes. They each had four legs which had large paws, which had sharp claws attached to them. One of them opened its mouth revealing razor sharp teeth coated with blood. Their tails had poisonous bulbs on the end.

“W-” For a second my voice failed for a was to frightened from the sight in front of me. Fi-nally I caught my breath and managed to squeak “Wh-What are those things.”

Professor Heartwood still looked shocked but he managed to grumble “Killerfangs.” Then he started to mumble something under his breath. Quickly he grabbed my hand and started making his way back towards his desk.

“Where are we going?” I asked. “No time, No time, come on!” he replied tugging my hand even harder.

Scared by Professor Heartwood’s sudden talking to himself. I started to back away from him. My friends and family were out there I had to help them not follow Professor Heartwood who happened to be talking to himself. But, before I had a chance to run into the crumbling hallway, a huge Killerfang ran through the doorway blocking my exit. At first, it got stuck in the doorway and let out a piercing wail which was very loud even through my plugged ears. With another heave and piercing cry, the Killerfang broke the doorway sending bits of stone flying in every direction.

“RUN” Professor Heartwood yelled, pulling me farther into his tower. I followed him fum-bling along still too shocked to cry for my lost home, to scream out of my fear and hatred for the Killerfangs, and really to run for my fear of getting crushed or worse. My legs felt like Jill Pie a spe-cial dessert my Mom, Auntie Rose and I used to make. The dessert was wobbly and sticky, and if you were made out of it, it would be very difficult to move much less think or feel. Keeping my hand locked with Professor Heartwood’s, I ran to his desk leaving my boots behind.

“Your boots of course!” the Professor cried. He pulled me behind a Giant map while the Killerfang was not looking and held a shaky hand in front of my quivering mouth. The Killerfang sniffed around trying to find us and then thinking my boots were me he attacked them. Soon all that was left of my boots were ripped shreds the rest in the beast’s belly.

“Now” Professor Heartwood whispered, and we ran for his desk. The Killerfang spotted us and started to bound after us, letting out more piercing howls of protest. My heart pounded so fast in my rib cage that it felt like it was going to explode by the time we reached his desk. Professor Heartwood got to his knees and pushed the chair away from us. Under the space where the chair had previously occupied was a little key hole. The professor pulled a key from his pocket and put it in the keyhole. I heard a pleasant click, and the door swung open revealing hidden stairs.

“In” he said, and I quickly followed him down the winding stair, which just happened to be wet. Great! Since Professor Heartwood had closed the plain wooden door, the only light was one torch which was in the right corner of the room. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could see there was only one plain shelf on the right side of the room near the torch. The only things which occupied the self were three orbs and a piece of chalk. The first orb was covered with paintings of trees and glossy lakes mixed with exotic reds, greens, purples, and pinks. The second orb was more on the plain side. Almost all of it was a deep blue except for a few spots of green some larger than others. The last orb was covered with black and a very dark purple. There was only one spot of fiery orange spot in the center of it. Finally the chalk was just plain white, yes no special decorations on it. I mean it this time.

Professor Heartwood snatched up the four items and laid them on the floor. Using the chalk, he drew a triangle with a star at the top. He then set the plain blue and green one on the star, the black one at the left point, and the colorful one at the right point of the triangle. He turned to me and smiled, then he put a large clock with a ribbon attached to it around my neck. I was about to ask what it was when he hushed me and directed me towards the triangle.

“Go inside the triangle Avia. This is important.”

I fearfully nodded and did what he said. The professor then started to say something in the ancient rune language, he moved his hands in odd directions and patterns while doing so. Soon the whole room filled with bright white light and a gust of wind so strong I felt like it was pulling me away. Then, there was no Professor Heartwood, no castle either, just a windy field full of wheat.

by Ariana Yeganeh

by Lana Milman

Music is Everywhere

Music is everywhere.

You can hear it when thunder growls and claps during a rainstorm,

And when the waves at the beach endlessly brush up against the shore.

Music is everywhere.

You can hear it in the silence,

in the buzz of the crowd.

by Rory Powell

by Maya Shah

The Broken Heart:

The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies.

I don’t think broken is the right word for my heart.

You ripped it out of place and shattered it.

You stomped on the million pieces of debris,

left behind so it would be impossible to piece back together.

I was a human piñata,

full of sweet things and joy,

but got broken into pieces after one too many hits.

The truth is that we are all a little damaged.

Some of us just hide it better more than others.

by Grace Williams

by Annie Freed

by Zawadi Sankofa

Unfinished

“Mia! wait for me! you know I can't keep up with you. The snow keeps making me trip!!”

She glances back at me, her face partially hidden by the Purple snowboard she clutches to her chest, and laughs, “You need to take off those stupid snowshoes then! I told you they suck! They just make you unbalanced!”

Well, SOME of us don't spend half the year on a ski resort, learning how to face the perils of walking in a foot and a half of snow! Mia has lived her entire life in Colorado, and started snow-boarding when she was three! When I first moved here from California, I was expecting winters with maybe a foot of snow. Well, I spent my first winter cowering inside the house, staring at the two foot thick layer of snow. When I met Mia, she made it her life’s goal to get me fully acquainted with snow.

So, here I am, stumbling through the woods, wondering just how big this “new hill” she has been raving about all week actually is. I can see the outline of her coat, and her mane of frizzy brown hair sticking out from under her hat. Then I hear her squeal, “WE'RE HERE! WE'RE HERE! WE’RE HERE!!!!!”

I glance around, and almost faint. Looming in front of me is a HUGE slope, steep and tall, just how Mia likes it. I, however, have a bad feeling about the hill. “Are you sure this is safe?” I call to Mia, who has already started up the hill. ”It looks really steep..”

“That's the whole point! Its no fun unless it's fast!” That’s pretty much how Maya works, the crazier something is, the more she wants to do it.

“Maybe I'll watch you go down first…” I say.

She rolls her eyes. ”I don't understand why you're so nervous around snow! It's not danger-ous as long as you're careful! I mean really! We live in colorado! You need to face your fears! Were gonna be around snow our whole lives!”

“Just let me watch you go down once. Please?”

She sighs and looks at the hill. “Fine. But then you’re going down it with me, even if I have to drag you!”

She drops her small backpack at my feet and starts up the slope, as fast as she can go with her board. I take off my snowshoes, throwing them down beside the pack. I sit down on a nearby boulder and watch Mia struggle to the top of the hill. For a moment I wonder if maybe I should fol-low her, in case something happens, but I know that by the time I finally made it up, she would be halfway up the hill for another go. I watch her reach the top.

“Oh my gosh Eva you HAVE to come up here! The view is amazing!”

“Nice try, but no!” I shout back.

She sighs in resignation and puts down her board. I see her getting into position, sliding her feet into the straps and pulling them tight, getting her balance on the edge of the hill. I take a deep breath as she leans forward. And then, she’s off, streaking down the hill, kicking up a cloud of snow behind her.

Almost instantly, I can tell something is wrong. I have seen Mia snowboard enough to know what her style is, and what i am seeing isn't right at all. She’s gone from a yell of exhilaration to si-lence, which is worrying. Then I notice that she is swerving and bumping a lot more than usual. I have just started to push myself off the boulder when it happens. I hear a shriek and look up just in time to see Mia’s board catch on something. For a moment, she's suspended in the air, the board teetering on the snow, Then, it slips, flipping Mia over the board. She catches my eyes for a mo-ment, those big green eyes wide and terrified. Then she's gone.

I'm on my feet before she hits the ground. I can hear her skull connect with something in a sickening crunch. I have just enough sense to grab the pack before I'm stumbling wildly towards her, screaming for her to get up. “GET UP!” When i reach her side, I almost faint. Blood. So much blood. And she isn't moving, and there's blood everywhere and her neck is all wrong, and there's so much blood. I see a rock, large, sharp and pointed, covered in it. I give a little shriek. This isn't hap-pening this can't be happening THIS ISN'T REAL!!!!!! But it is real. It’s real and it's happening. I lean over and throw up behind me.

That's when I spot the backpack, and I gasp. HER PHONE! Please please please please PLEASE tell me she brought her phone! I scramble desperately to the pack and dump its contents in the snow. I see a small corner of something purple, and breath a sigh of relief. Thank you for your love of social media Mia. It just might save your life. I grab the phone and run back to Mia. Hope has cleared my brain a bit, and I finally think to check if she is breathing. She is, but it is very ragged and faint. I see the snow around her head slowly, turning redder and redder, and let out a small sob of horror.

Then, I compose myself. “It won't help Mia to cry and freak out,” I tell myself,” She needs help, but the blood is almost too much. I turn on the phone and frantically punch the only number my fuzzy brain can think of: 911. I press the phone to my ear and pray that 911 always has people ready to pick up the phone.

“911, what is your emergency?”

And this is what sets me off. Emergency. Yes, this is most definitely an emergency. I look over at Mia's limp form and suddenly realize just how much blood she has lost.

“911, what is your emergency?” the woman asks again.

“My friend hit her head on a rock and there's blood everywhere, and she needs help NOW!!” I managed not to scream at how infuriatingly calm the woman is. How can she be so calm and slow when Mia is lying here hurt? Doesn’t she understand how much blood she has lost?

“Please calm down honey” she says.

HOW CAN I CALM DOWN?!?!

“Just tell me exactly what happened, and we will be there as soon as possible,” she says.

So I tell her, “We were having a sleepover, and in the morning, she wanted to go snow-boarding on this new hill by Logan’s Creek, but she hit her head on a rock, and now there's blood everywhere, and she won't wake up, and I NEED HELP NOW!!!”

“Just stay where you are honey, and we will be there as soon as possible. Until then, stay calm.”

It takes them ten minutes to find us. In that time I have thrown up twice more and done a fair bit of crying. When they find me, I am sitting next to Mia, clutching her hand like it's ME who is dying instead of her. When they try to put Mia on a stretcher, I refuse to let go. Through the haze, all I can think to do is to NOT LET GO. But eventually, I do. They pry my hand free from hers, and they hustle us both into the waiting ambulance, and all I can do is cry and scream for them to SAVE HER!!!.

Through a partition I can see Mia, hooked up to all these machines, with tubes in her arms and a breathing mask over her face. She looks so helpless, and that is even worse than the blood. Eventually fatigue starts to overcome my body, all the adrenalin draining out of me, all that energy giving way to a horrible kind of acceptance. But then, even that leaves me, and everything fades out.

by Carrie Couch

School

Last day of school

It was cool

Except….

I graduated

Sad

Tears

Not happen

No way

I don’t want to leave

Happiness

Smiles

Screams

I can’t believe

I got in

New school

New day

I didn’t know what to say

Bryn Mawr

Bryn Mawr

You helped me become a star

New people

New friends

How do I make new friends

I know that I have to make amends

I made it

I’m in

First year might be done

But my journey is yet to begun

by Sydney Leyba

by Gaby Sequeira

by Katherine Giroux

Poem of life

In this little time, we live amidst birth and death We find many things Joy, Sadness Love, Anger Fear and Hope Life changes in every second We never know what will happen We smile, We cry We win and We lose No one said it would be easy In this world that we live in, That is full of uncertainty No one said it would be fair Because life, as we know, is unfair We fight and stay strong But we struggle With life’s obstacles We still hold on, Determined to win the battle The secret to it all is to have courage and be kind That is the key to every obstacle life throws at you Be kind to other people And have the courage to do something you're scared of Kindness and courage These are the two keys that open the door to a wonderful life!

by Grace Williams

by Vanessa Brecher

The Confessions of Marguerite

“Your brother was here, you know” the guard started to say and she looked up “Thomas,

was that his name? Nice fellow, shame he had to go.” The girl on the floor looked away again. “I’m

sorry you’re here, hopefully this won’t take long. Alright, what’s your name?” She didn’t respond.

“Come now, don’t be difficult!” She avoided his glare. “I don’t want you to have to go where your

brother went, not a pretty place, for a kid like yourself.”

“I’m not a kid, and I don’t want to tell you my name.” She stared at him for a second before

looking back at the loose dress.

“Come on kid,” she looked up and glared at him. “Sorry, come on...lady?” She looked back

down, smiling. “I’m gonna tell you the truth kid- I mean..uh...lady, Let me explain, you're going to

tell me what your name is and I am going to ask you some questions. If you don’t answer or contin-

ue being difficult we can try this another way.” The girl looked up with fear on her face, she knew

what that meant.

“My name is Marguerite and..”

“That’s a French name isn’t it?”

“Don’t interrupt! I am going to tell you what I know and answer your questions, but don’t

interrupt me! I’ve been here before, I know how this goes.” She was yelling now and the guard was

taken aback by her volume.

“Sorry Marguerite, well, you’ve been here before, and you already know this, but, your

brother, Thomas, has been arrested for being involved in treasonous acts against our great Queen

Mary. How much did you know about your brother’s plans?”

“Nothing.”

“Did he ever say things to make you think he might be involved in treason?”

“No.”

“How about your father, did he ever behave in ways to make you suspicious?”

“No.”

“Where is your father?”

“I don’t know.”

The guard frowned and put his face into his hands. He was getting nowhere with this mule

of a girl.

“Fine, you don’t want to talk about your father or your brother, what about your mother,

what was she like?” At this Marguerite sat up. She paused before speaking, choosing her words care-

fully.

“We weren’t close to my mother, she taught us to sew and Thomas got an apprenticeship at

the tailor’s because for it. But she never did much for us. .” He noticed he had gotten somewhere

with her and tried to continue.

“So what did you do every day, when you weren’t with your mother?” She looked up.

“Well there were a lot of things,” Marguerite began, “Before I got a job I didn’t do much.

Sometimes I sewed or just watched the world go by. For a while mama would work in a workhouse

and I went along with her for a little bit when I was old enough I got a job of my own, here actual-

ly.” She gestured around her. “I cleaned the cells and took care of inmates.”

Marguerite finished and looked straight into his eyes. And for the first time he could get a

good look into them. She had dark eyes, but a light complexion which contrasted to her dark hair.

Splatters of freckles covered her face giving it color, but also making it seem even paler. Her cheeks

were no longer puffy from tears, but sagged to show lines underneath her eyes. She had lost many a

night’s sleep.

“You seem to have had a good relationship with your brother, tell me more about him.”

“Thomas is-” she stopped herself, “was...my best friend. He was there when I was born and

he said that I cried whenever I was in anyone else’s arms except his. He was an apprentice in Mr.

Haddock’s tailor shop. Mr. Haddock makes clothes for the rich sometimes. He once made a dress

for Lady Jane’s youngest sister, but that’s nothing, I met Lady Jane. Thomas was so smart. He taught

me most everything I know. The people who came to the shop talked about the kings and queens

and he told me everything he learned. I knew about the late King Henry even though I don’t re-

member him. Thomas told me all about all of his wives. Catherine of Arragon and how he left her,

and the Catholic Church, for Anne Boleyn.”

“Is that all you brother taught you?” he said.

“No, let me continue.” The frown returned to her face, “His son, the late King Edward took

his place. Thomas told me how he was just as devout at his father. He continued the Church of

England. But he died. And then Jane was Queen.” Marguerite finished quickly and looked back

down at her skirt and started to twiddle her thumbs. He knew she wasn’t telling everything,

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“No...I mean....uhh...ummm....Yes...Yes I’m sure.”

“You’re a bad liar. Tell me what else.” She looked back up and began,

“Well Thomas said I shouldn’t go around saying this, but alright...he told me that Mary was

supposed to be queen, Mary Tudor I mean. She was next in line for the throne. And because of

the...the...um...I can’t remember what it was called, Thomas told me....well because of part of King

Henry’s will, Lady Jane Grey was third in line for the throne. Only if Mary died without any children

and then her half-sister Elizabeth died without children would she become queen.”

“Yes, The Third Act Of Succession”

“Well yes, the Third Act Of Succession. No one thought Jane would become queen. Because

two people had to die with no offsprings for her family to inherit the throne. But there was a plot

within the castle and somehow the line of succession shifted to her. She told me she didn’t want to

be queen either. When, you know, I met her.”

“No, I don’t know. You met Lady Jane Grey? How?” He had finally gotten somewhere with

her and learned something, “Tell me about that. But first, your brother, was of the new faith, he was

a Protestant, correct?”

“Yes, he was a Protestant.”

“Good, done with him.” He smirked, “And your mother, what is she.”

“She is Catholic.”

“And what are you?

“I don’t know. There is just so much, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“Alright then,” He move the stool up closer to her, “How then did you meet Lady Jane

Grey?”

“Fine, well I told you I worked here. I would clean up the cells and give food to the prison-

ers. Well, after Lady Jane was declared the queen, Mary came to London. I remember that day. I was

cleaning the cobblestones and Mrs. Brown, the boss came up to tell me about something but before

she could speak a kitchen boy whispered something in her ear. Well, she trotted off, and I was going

to go back to washing the stones, but then the boy told me I had to come quick, that the rightful

heir to the throne, Lady Mary Tudor had come to reclaim her queenhood. I left the bucket there and

I went with him and he lead me up on top of one of the walls and we looked over and we saw her.

Well not her exactly. But we saw her people coming into the city. It was magnificent. I had never

seen so many people come to support one woman.”

“Well, as you know, Mary has become queen. Queen Mary declared England, Catholic again,

and Thomas was upset. He wanted our country to advance forward and break away fromt the pope.

He told me that it was time for change, and that Queen Mary, was pulling our country back. Queen

Mary put Lady Jane Grey in a cell here at the Tower. Thomas said that exploring these new religions

was a mistake. That King Henry had given us the opportunity to be independent and that to go back

to the Pope was a mistake. Well one day Mrs. Brown told us girls that there was a position open in

the tower, a handmaid for Jane. To personally get her food and clean and clear out her cell while she

was staying with us. She said the job was more pay, but also more work. I told her that I would love

to do it, and she gave me the job over some of the other girls. I was so excited. Mother, she wasn't

feeling well and Thomas and I wanted to move away from the city. We were going to buy a little bit

of land out in the country. We were going to make clothes for nobles and open our own tailoring

shop.”

“She was 15, I’m 14, so she wasn’t much older than I was. I always imagined her that she

would be taller. But she was actually quite small. Shorter than I am right now. She had red hair, but

it was so dirty. It used to shine, but was so coated in grease and dirt no light reflected off. Her dress

was fine, made of colorful silks, but stained with muck and mush. She had once been a beauty, but

the tower had turned her into an old shadow. Like a ghost, she was. Her skin was so pale, almost

white.”

“So each day I would visit her twice. Sometimes she would talk to me, and sometimes she

wouldn’t. One day I went home and told Thomas about her. He said that she should be on the

throne, not in a tower. I asked him what was going to happen to her. He told me about how he had

heard that Queen Mary was planning on executing Lady Jane. The next day I told Lady Jane about

my brother. I told her about how Thomas wanted her to be queen and he wanted our country to

move forward. She seemed so upset. That was when she told me how she didn’t want to be queen.

She said she was hoping Mary would become queen and have a child, because she didn’t want the

line to transfer to Elizabeth and then maybe to her. Her father Lord Henry always wanted her to be

queen and taught her how to go about doing it if the opportunity came, but when she found out

what Edward had done she was so upset. I asked her what she did want. She told me that she want-

ed Mary to be happy and to be back at her home in Suffolk. Then I told her about the execution.

She stopped talking. I was dismissed and that was that. That was when I realized Lady Jane was my

friend. I don’t think she considered me, her friend, but she was mine. I never really had many

friends when I was little, or at least girls that were my own age. She was only a year older than I, but

had experienced so much more. She had been exchanged from one palace to another, then into a

prison. I really cared about her, and whether or not she died.”

“The next day Mrs. Brown sent me back at an odd time. She said cleaning time today would

be a little earlier. That I didn’t need to bring her breakfast. She sent me up that morning. Jane was

wearing a petticoat and she sat on a lavish silk pillow. There was a another girl, she sat in the corner.

There was an old man in a robe who was tying a cloth around her eyes. There was another man with

a big axe, setting up a block of wood, the chopping block. I had never actually seen anyone be exe-

cuted. I had cleaned up the rooms where it had happened. And I had heard the screams of men as

they died. But never before had my eyes witnessed death like that.” Marguerite stopped. “I don’t

think I want to go on.”

“Alright, just give me a summary, what happened?”

“Well...the man put Jane on the block and lifted up his axe. She didn’t plead for them him

stop or spare her. She didn’t shake with fear. She just let it happen. So calm just accepting her fate

like that. When the man raised his axe the other girl in the room fainted. It fell down and I looked

away.” She looked down. “That’s it, I didn’t see any more.”

“And after she was dead, what did you do then?” he asked, feeling more sorry than ever for

this girl.

“I cleaned up. I got my bucket and I washed away the blood, I wiped down the block and I

washed her clothes.” He sat up, having crouched down, his back hunched during the story.

“So, your brother, he was involved in a plot to kill our great Queen Mary, would you say he

did this because she is not the rightful queen?”

“I guess so. But, if I tell you this may I leave?”The guard thought for a moment.

“Yes, yes, if you tell me you may leave.”

“I think it was more than Queen Mary not being the true ruler. He was so upset with every-

one who was on the throne. One minute they were Catholic, the next Protestant. He said that it felt

like England had finally come to her senses and chosen a religion, free from the church in Rome. He

had been exchanging his beliefs for so long, because of the royal family who explored new beliefs

and way of life he had now encountered one religion he thought was for the better. He was just dis-

appointed, when we went back to being Catholic. And he was so angry, when Queen Mary took the

throne. I remember he spent a lot of time in a pub with some friends. He would come home from

the tailor shop and have dinner with Mama and me and go out. For a couple weeks after Lady Jane

died. I asked him once what he was doing and he said, making things right. That’s all I know. May I

go now?

The guard leaned back in his stool. This girl really had no malice in her. Just a love for her

brother. She had no plans for evil devoted to anyone. She was just caught in this situation of her

brother’s folly. He had been so confused with his encounters. No one could figure out what religion

was anymore and all of these constant exchanges were tiering. Marguerite was an innocent in all of

this.

“You may leave,” he said not paying attention. She smiled at him, for the first time, he no-

ticed. She had not smiled once while she was there. She smiled and she walked out the door.

by Elizabeth Sacktor

Delaroche, Paul, Mr. The Execution of Lady Jane Grey. 1833. Oil Paint. National Gallery, London, UK.

by Anna Zivkovich

OCTOPUS OCTOPUS

OCTOPUS OCTOPUS

WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME

I HAVE LOVED YOU FOR TEN MILLION YEARS

AND NOW I AM DYING

DO U HAVE MEDICINE

OCTOPUS OCTOPUS

by MaryKatherine Weigman

by Jesse Kwon

by Annie Freed

Poem

Concentration

We had no food; no water

Sixty- four

Our bellies swollen red

No repeats

I thought of all the yesterdays

Or hesitations

Only yesterdays

Down in the valley

We ran from the bombs

Where the sweet grass grows

Flying down light candlelight

Sat I

If candlelight could kill

by Lucie Boucher and Naomi Fotenos

Here for You

I'm here for you

I know this may be out of the blue

But I'm here for you

I just hope it's the same for me too

Through thick and thin

We're in it for the win

Even though I probably don't deserve it

I know I'm not perfect

But can you be with me please?

I don't want you to leave

You're much better than I am

I want you to be my fam

Through any weather

We’ll be here together

Well I hope…..

It really sounds dope

So let it be

Just you and me

So we can conquer this world together

by Gabby Forbes

by Jesse Kwon

Summer

Summer is the time for joy and happiness

When birds fly and sing

When the sky is as blue as the sea

And the flowers as colorful as paint on a canvas

Summer is when meadows cover the earth like a blanket

Summer is time when we go to the beach and wait on the sand until foam and water touch our toes

The smell of salt water and the hot sand under our feet

Where the pink and white shells float in from the sea

Summer is when the wind blows across the trees

When we see the buds blooming from the earth

When the sun is high in the sky

Summer is when we close our eyes thinking what the next day will bring

Summer is the time for joy!

by Grace Williams

by Maya Shah

Rats Are Cooler Than You

The humans are loud. They yell and they shout at each other and I don’t know why. We have disputes, but there are reasons. Someone hurt someone else or stole something. We appreciate what we have and don’t need any more than what keeps us alive. We take from the humans some-times, but it's not because we want to take. We just want to survive. The humans don’t need every-thing they have. And with what they do have? They’re not even grateful. They’re so wasteful.

Sometimes it’s hard to be a rat. Every night I wake up with my family, and we have to make sure that the humans still don’t know where we are. Sometimes we leave and find a new home if we think they’re suspicious, but usually we just look for food. The humans hate us. And I don’t under-stand why. Whenever I go to sleep, I think what would happen if we hated them. Would it be bal-anced and things would be easier, or would that make everything even more difficult for them and us? And that’s the thing, we don’t hate them! We don’t hate anyone. But the humans seem to hate everyone who is different. Humans hate other humans. We would never hate our fellow rats, but we also don’t love them. The humans hate too many, but they also love.

That’s another thing I don’t understand. In Baltimore, there is so much hate. It seems as if so many people have given up on the world, but when they go home, they still love. They can hate so much and still have room in their bodies for love. The people in Baltimore aren’t proud to be there. They look down on the city and complain about it. If we were to do that, it would be because we genuinely didn’t like it. But no, these humans love their city, even though everyone in the city always complains about everyone else in the city. No one in Baltimore sees Baltimore the same way, except for dirty and loud and dangerous. But they don’t leave. They stay. And I think it’s because they love it.

by Elizabeth Sacktor

by Elizabeth Georges


by Maggie Winstead

Nothing.

Gradually I climb.

Higher and higher,

Until I reach the sky.

But the sky is not the limit this time,

So I continue on.

I travel past the stars,

Past the planets,

Past all possible reminders of life,

Until there was nothing.

Nothing but darkness.

Darkness,

And the memory of light.

The light,

So blinding it was.

The light that I escaped.

To go into the darkness.

Into the darkness I now continue.

I go until there is nothing left.

Nothing this time.

No darkness,

No light.

Just nothing.

Now I am something.

Something among nothing.

And I am finally glad.

No more fear.

No more hiding.

No more being nothing.

No more nothing.

Now something.

Something among the nothing.

by Jessica Bryant

Skyfall

Sarina and I ran down the hallway of our school, being chased by God knows what.

“Sarina, get up on top of the trophy shelf and climb up into the air ducts!” We climbed up

and sat, panting.

“Hey,” Sarina began, “You seem to know my name, but I don’t know yours. In fact, I didn’t

even know that you went to this school, anyways.”

“Um…..I know that this may sound really creepy, but I have no idea what my name is or

anything that happened before we were being chased by that hellish demon.” As I finished my sen-

tence, the world opened up and swallowed me whole.

My screams echoed in my ears as I woke up on a hospital bed with no memory at all. I tried

to sit up, but my muscles would not comply. I heard footsteps coming down the hall and willed my

body to be able to move. I miraculously jumped up and ran to the window. I looked out and saw

that it was a 6-foot drop. I took a chair from the room and smashed the window. The door opened

as a man in all black with some sort of blaster walked in and I jumped out the window. I surprisingly

survived the fall. I ran as I heard ear-shattering blasts and there were explosions right next to and

behind me. I ran inside the nearest building, seeking refuge. I asked people to call the police, due to

the fact that I have no phone, but I didn’t even get a backwards glance.

The passersby didn’t seem to notice me or the explosions, but in my fear, I thought that they

were only being rude. I ran to the basement and hoped for the best, but then again, this was not my

day. There was another bomb so conveniently placed in the basement. I ran for the stairs and got to

the main lobby of the building and suddenly, my memory was restored.

I was working for the man in black but had gone rogue and now, he wanted me back. As I

looked around, it seemed that people could actually see me. As I looked around in awe, my arms

were grabbed and handcuffed behind my back. I was too confused to see who it was. I was pulled

into a room. The world went black forevermore, and I never saw who took me.

by Katie Butler

by Annie Freed

Life Begins

Life begins with an open door that leads to a hallway

You look down the hallway you see a bright light

You hear a slight ticking sound; you choose not to pay attention to it

You decide to take your first step into the hallway; it isn’t that bad

So you decide to take more and more steps and the hallway begins to get brighter

Even though some parts of the hallway were dim and you trip and stumble

There was always a light at the end

You walk even more and your knees start to become weak; you can feel your hair turning gray

You hear the ticking sound again and don’t pay attention to it

But you then realize that it is ticking even faster but it doesn’t matter

The light started to become dim, and you cannot see any light at the end

You start to feel wrinkles in your skin, and the ticking begins to get faster and louder

You realize it’s the beginning of the end

The end is getting closer and darker

You try to turn back and do all it over again, but it is like the end was the magnet and you are the stray piece of metal

You try your hardest to get away but you are trapped

The timer’s ticks get even faster going at the speed of light and at an earsplitting volume

You start to feel a sharp pain in your chest; you get more and more dizzy

Your legs go weak and you fall to the ground

That’s when you hear the timer’s last tick and suddenly everything got very…

by Nafia Hunter

by Shreya Gandhi

Me, Myself, and I

I have three people in my life

They’re named Me, Myself, and I

We go everywhere together

We are tied real tight with a tether

We tell each other everything

And wear all the same clothes

We look the same and act the same

We go like feet and toes

We love each other with all our might

Our bond, to us, is real tight

We’re somehow connected...literally

I just remembered! They’re all me! :)

by Maddi Das

by Annie Fried and Zawadi Sankofa

Damage

What happens when you lose a piece of yourself?

Do you just keep picking away like petals to a flower?

or do you come crashing down like building blocks?

or can we rebuild that missing link that we’ve been searching for?

Maybe it depends on the person or maybe the amount of damage

The amount of damage that breaks you apart brick by brick

or the damage that makes you forget about the good life you were living

and plays with your mind every chance it gets

but the real question is can you get through it?

Can you break the dark chains of all the hurt, depression and anger

and come out victorious and say, “I fought and won this battle”

or just give up and let the pain wrap you up in a sheet of ice cold bondage

where no one can hear your deep and soulful cries?

Maybe it depends on the person…..or maybe just the amount of damage

by Gabby Forbes

by Maya Shah

by Maddi Das

by Cara Denton

by Jordan Flowers

Leaves Taking in their last breath Falling slowly to the ground Soft like snow as they blow around Moving Dancing with the wind Slowly falling back again As the khaki brown mixes with the green grass The oddly shaped spiked edges crumple Children running wild Stepping on the fragile leaves Ripping, Tearing Yelling, Screaming Sounds of leaves can be heard Crumpling As the leaves shrivel up The grass still beautifully under it As the leaves see their last sight of the clear sky Their dark brown spots come in soon A sign that their days have almost ended Piles of leaves are soon made As they are buried with their friends Crushed under the weight of a child The life of the leaf flashes before its eyes as its journey continues on by Jordan Flowers

Alone Again

The sky is black and the ceiling is gray

And lonesome thoughts are bound to stray

Wandering now and singing their song

Break my heart and string me along

Yet time stands still and I’m all that’s left

I want to stop my heart and cease my breath

A hate so strong I wonder how

Please make it stop and kill me now


by Cara Denton

by Claire Churchill

by Katherine Giroux

A New Life

If I had a new life

I would make it a delight

I would never complain

Or rearrange

Everything would stay the same

It would be simple

Like a tiny dimple

I would laugh too much

I would take life’s advantage

And I would be in charge

I would manage

Life would be easy

And breezy

Even if you want a new life

Just remember, everything will be alright

by Zoe Faraone

The Thorn on a Rose

What has happened to my life?

I did all I could.

I used to have a mom and dad,

I always thought I would.

I feel like I am out in space

with no place to call home.

I must not let them know my pain,

their own pain is enough.

So I will keep my words inside

and make my outside look tough!

I will smile and act as if nothing’s wrong

and boil inside instead.

Because no one cares much anyway,

no matter what I've said.

Divorce is a thorn on a rose,

and the rose is life.

by Annie Freed

by Maya Shah

by Anna Zivkovich

I Don’t Understand

I don’t understand

Why people can’t respect the law

Why lovely people get killed

Why people can’t be loved

But most of all…..

Why we can’t accept transgenders

Why we can’t accept gay people

Why we can’t accept people for who they are

What I do understand is

Why people are different

That I can make a difference

That you can make a difference

And together we can make a difference

by Sydney Leyba

Rain

Rain isn’t just water falling from the sky.

It doesn’t just come from a cloud.

It means so much more.

Sometimes when there is rain there is thunder.

But sometimes there is also a rainbow.

It just depends which way life takes you.

Life isn’t perfect.

Life will go up and down,

Just remember that there isn’t always thunder when it rains.

But sometimes thunder can be good.

It helps you fall asleep on a stormy night.

But thunder can also mean dark clouds, a dark day.

Sad feelings cloud up in your mind.

You cry in the rain because no one can see your tears.

Rain has feelings too.

Rain, oh rain.

Who are you?

by Lillian Shattuck

by Anna Zivkovich


Rain Dancers

Rain dancers.

Puddle Splashers.

Sky Laughers.

Wind Prancers.

Watch the water hit the ground,

it falls quickly down and down but now, the downpour, slows...

So. Much. Fun.

by Zawadi Sankofa


Zeus

The darkness of midnight creeps over the sky.

The wind blows,

Fighting everything in its way,

Forcing people into their homes and creatures in search of protection.

The rain comes,

Pounding, gushing, flowing,

Ruling everyone.

Lightning strikes the sky with bolts of fear and destruction,

Blasting trees, houses, and buildings.

The wind comes stronger,

Whirling around and around,

Destroying everything in its way.

A tornado they call it.

The mortals are afraid,

Afraid of everything that can hurt or kill them.

But I, as an immortal God, am not.

I am angry,

Angry at everything that has come my way.

I Am Zeus.

by Lana Milman

TERRIBLENESS.

You and I,

Were meant to be.

I think.

You laugh at my senseless jokes,

Encourage me to never give up,

and fight by my side.

You even hold my hand when times get tough.

We march around with our heads held high.

We walk and talk until the sun disappears.

Now it’s night and the cold overwhelms me,

But huddled together, I feel your warmth. I know I’m safe.

You whisper in my ear.

Although I cannot make out your words,

I know what you said.

So I whisper back,

I love you too.

One look at you and I bury my face in my hands,

I know I’ve made a mistake.

You’re crying. It’s not obvious, but I can tell.

A single tear slips down your cheek.

But you smile, they are tears of joy.

Tears that prove I have done the right thing.

Tears that prove there is something between us.

Tears that prove that true love is real. I know.

We’re meant to be,

You and I.

by Jessica Bryant

by Maya Shah

by Cara Denton

Should I Go? Look there and look away Pros and cons we tend to weigh And then return to the cliché Should I roam or should I stay Trembling hands and tightening breath Counting times in which I’ve wept In and out I try to breathe But still feeling far too weak And then return to the cliché Should I roam or should I stay I’m pacing and wracking my brain I’m wearing down and going insane What should I do? What to do I need answers, I’m so confused

And then return to the cliché

Should I roam or should I stay

Is there a light that I cannot see Is this how life is supposed be Is there a reason that I’m still here Is love truly stronger than fear

Is there a light that I cannot see

Is this how life is supposed be

Is there a reason that I’m still here

Is love truly stronger than fear


by Maddi Das

by Anna Zivkovich

by Cara Denton

In the middle of a bare, quiet forest


The color filled birds fly over my head

Through the gray, bleak sky

Through the bare meadows

Through the snowy breeze

I sit by the blazing fire

And I continue to stay warm

As my hands fly over the fire

They are filled with heat

A sip of the sweet, creamy hot cocoa is taken

The soggy marshmallow that floats is bitten

Cold and bare

Yet I’m warm and sweet


by Maya Shah

A dream

Filled with sparkle and wonder

Magic and fantasy

Glowing

A passing light

Floating overhead

Anything will come

Happiness

Sadness

Horror

Just a dream

That glows in the night

A light of wonder

Passing

by Maya Shah

by Chloe Murray

by Cara Denton

by Mia Aversano

by Lana Milman

The Shadow

I follow you everywhere

because you’re perfect.

The prime example

of what I thought I could be.

I wonder if one day

I can make you understand

how I feel

or who I really am.

I’m still there

when you don’t want me anymore,

when you’re done with me,

and even when you think the sun is shining.

I’m always watching you

in whatever you do,

because somehow I know

that you’ll shed light

on my darkness.

You are the leader,

and I the follower.

But I have one thing you don’t.

A heart. A choice. A chance.

I can make myself invisible to your evil eyes,

but I’ll always be there.

Just you wait and see.

I can disappear for days,

for weeks even.

And you, poor little you,

must stay.

I can wander wherever, whenever,

but you cannot.

My thoughts are in my control,

but you’re stuck

within society’s boundaries.

You think you’re so cool,

the best at everything.

Well you are cool.

Cold, I mean.

Do you realize how much you hurt people?

How much you step on me every single day?

I see right through your lies

but you never notice me.

I’m tired of it,

but I can only be myself

and deal with it by myself.

You don’t have to see me

if you don’t want.

-- The Shadow

by Jenna Resnik

by Page Clancy

Sailing Impression

I step onto the dock. The wind blows joyously at my arrival and flies to the end of the

dock to tell my ship. As soon as my eyes set on her, she rocks excitedly and the waves around her

lap against her to join in on the celebration.

I step onto her deck, taking in the feeling of setting my feet upon her sturdy wood. The

salty breeze blows at my face, hurrying me to go hoist the sails so it may take me and her across

the seas. I raise the sail and take position at the front of the ship where I take up the wheel and

unravel the bounds holding us to land. Eager to escape, my ship lurches forward and the wind

pushes in her sails, propelling us to the never ending sea.

We venture out into the morning fog, just the wind, the ship, the water, and I. The wind

soon tires though and goes off to play with the seagulls which beckon to it with their playful

shrieking. The wind takes off with them and soon they are gone. The wind is gone, and the

waves, the ship, and I sit together on the surface and bask in the bright new light of day. The

waves grow bored of our stillness and disappear to join the wind and gulls. My ship will not leave,

the wind, the land, and the waves may grow bored of me, but she will stay true and protect me

from the dark depths below.

My ship and I are alone and have work to do. I raise myself and grab my fishing rod. A

fake worm will do the trick. I lower my rod in and wait for hours. My ship and I wait for the tug

so we may pull up our treasure. A yank on the rod almost sends me head first into the water, but I

am prepared so I yank back. My ship cheers me on and bumps up and down in the water. One

final pull and the fish is up and out. What a beauty it is! A true yellow-tailed snapper right from

the tip of its light blue mouth to its brilliant yellow tail which it was named for. A foot in length, it

will feed my family for dinner.

The wind comes back to assist and the waves follow in pursuit. They always come back,

but my ship never leaves. She is loyal. She is what you call a friend. She is my friendship.

by Katherine Giroux

by Shreya Gandhi

magpie literary magazine 2016

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