A STRONG SMELL WAFTED IN TO THE CAR WINDOW. "Ava! Hurry up! we have to go!" John called. No response. "Ava!" John called once again. Still, the only sound he could hear was the soft thud of raindrops on the car roof. Impatiently, the young bank accountant got out, slamming the door behind him. He froze. Somewhere in the distance, John thought he heard a sound. The forest was silence once again. John's feet crunched the freshly fallen leaves below, and he walked up to the tree, where Ava had gotten out of the car to pee. "I'm giving you one more chance to answer me little lady!!!" He shouted. "One..... Two..... Three.....O.k, that's it!" He walked to the other side of the tree. Past the mountains, past the river, and somewhere beyond that dark grey sky, someone probably heard a scream. Faint, but there. And back in that same forest, John stood, looking down at his dead daughter. Her neck was cut deeply, raw flesh and blood spilling out. John didn't notice through his tears, but the rest of her body...........................................................................................................................................Was gone.

mushrooms, pt 1

   "Dude, there is actual stuff growing out of your arm."

   Liam doesn't usually get concerned, but he is now as he examines your injured arm. His fingers on the little, white lobes and thin healing skin make you shiver with something you can't name, so you pull away and tuck it underneath the table where he can't prod.

   "Yeah, I. I guess." You say slowly, and that's it, even though you can still feel his eyes questioning you. You'd rather Liam get a little ticked than admit you did something as stupid as falling out of a tree and getting scraped like that. You continue talking only after you realize he's gone completely still, his fingers twitching around his pen, just staring. It takes a while, honestly. Your brain's been getting sluggish lately. Maybe you should get some more rest.

  "Hey, no. Yeah. I feel good, okay?" Because you really do. You do feel good. Since you got hurt you've been kicking back a bit. Eating more. Sleeping lots. Your arm doesn't even hurt anymore, though it's still a queasy color and seeping around the tender nubs converging underneath. He doesn't seem too convinced, but he doesn't say anything either and doesn't even sneer when you drop your pencil for the seventh time. Your fingers just keep getting clumsier these days. You probably need more rest.

   When your homework's all done, you give Liam a sleepy wave good-bye and set off home, carefully turning your arm so the delicate, pearly fronds poking out of your skin catch the last rays of light. His eyes follow you all the way out the door.

---

Later, when you're settling down for sleep in front of your bedroom window and brushing your fingers through the small fronds, it occurs to you how much bigger they've gotten. You're repulsed on a distant level when you realize how incredibly good that makes you feel. You thought they were scary at first, your little growths, disgusting and painful, but the initial shock has worn off by now and they hardly hurt at all if you don't pull at them. They're actually sort of pretty, all fragile and opalescent; like living jewelry. And when you let them drink in the sun it feels like you're thrumming all over. You've taken to sleeping in the daytime in front of the window, even though somewhere behind everything else you know there are other things you need to be doing. School, maybe. Liam's voice-mails just keep piling up. But Gramma doesn't notice that you're not going to school or anything, and it feels so nice to know you're taking care of them right.

My Story Beginning Plus More...


My eyes are popping. I don't know what I can do. My hair, caramel colored, flies up above my head. I grasp the sides of the thing- whatever it was that I was lying down on- that they're taking me away on, as if I can stop them from doing it.
The hands beside my head, wheeling me through mint-colored halls, are strong. Mye ar brushes against one- its ice cold and hard as rock.
They're taking me. Like I knew they would. I know why. It's because- but no, I push that thought away, like I pushed away the thought of...what is going to happen next...
We've reached a door.
A gruff voice, then another. Grunting.
I blink. Why?
A hand thrusts out, turns the knob.
A shadow falls over me.
I am dwarfed by this person, who shakes my bones and chills me throughout.
I just stand there...all of my words clog up in my throat, trying to push out. But they barely have the chance and they're trapped. My head feels weird. My hands get sweaty. Shadows follow me, my heart bangs on my chest. I couldn't  take it anymore. It's over. But I promised him I will make it until the end. And I never break a promise.
Then I realize that I'm human just like everyone else. I'm not about to let something like this destroy me after all I've been through. Not now not in this lifetime. I make mistakes just like everyone else, why should I be labled?
I finally stand up. No...I will fight to the end. Am I the person that gives up? No. I just need to believe. I'm doing this for him. And I will not give up. Tell him I'm coming.

anything
can be poetic
if you hit
the enter key
enough

Bombs in the distance
Through silver eyes
We will always remember
What we tried to disguise

Passing on stories
Telling our tales
Revealing the truth
sought through lying faces

Cece Comes

By PK

oh no.

Cece is coming today. I moaned and turned over. Jeez, I hate that dog. I heard maman clattering in the kitchen, talking to herself rapidly in french, preparing for our guests. Sure, Beth, Jon, and their 2 year old daughter Maeve are great. It's their dog that is the problem.

She is an absolute nightmare.

Oh, how she loves to sneak up on me and nip- no, bite my ankles. That annoying little poodle, how I would love to spin around, pick her up and throw her around the room. And the funny thing is, Sophie and Marie, my 2 sisters, maman could pick her up and cuddle her. Papa used to be able to but he is in France. And the worst part is, Cece's paws are like slippers, so she is really quiet when she comes to bite me.

"Alexander!" I shut my eyes to pretend I am asleep. That's Marie, coming to get me out of bed for maman. What a goody 2 shoes. 

"Alexander!" Great, now it is 2 voices. Marie and Sophie. 

"Come on, Alex, it's not your birthday yet." My birthday! I can't wait, my birthday wish will to be turning 20 instead of 6, so I could be older then Marie and Sophie. Marie is 15 and Sophie is 12.

"Marie, go away or I'll tell mom about Pascal." Pascal is Marie's new boyfriend and she doesn't want maman to know. I peeked enough to see Marie's face turn a shade of cherry.

"You wouldn't." She growled. I sighed.

"You are right, I wouldn't." And I sat up and rubbed my eyes sleepily.

CANDY

candy is so hard to not eat and savor temptation gets in my way
I want it so bad but I know I can't eat it again I look and stare at the
wrapper and i know something good is inside even though it's something
small it makes me feel good inside


-CHOMP

BY RUE

Jessica, my dear cousin

I just got home after hanging out with a bunch of friends. They came over and we just had a pillow fight! Soon enough my room was a large mess made of pillow insides. Alexis got a few emails about Mikey about the new play she was doing in college... I wonder what he's doing in dance as of now? I had a fun day in school and dinner's ready sooo... gtg! Bye!
Jess's diary
P.S. Tmw we have a test is like every subject....ugh.

My Dear aunt Carmen

Everyday wake up,lounge,nap,tv,shower,repeat.Just waiting for a call or someone to drop by.Dead silence.
The presence of someone enlightens my day.Just me myself and I in this 4 story brownstone house.
The clocks tick. We all grow old together. 1 thing we all have in common. I don't know how much growing
1 can do.( From a perspective of my great aunt Carmen.)- Kaiya 

Geneva Torres, October 2013

    Nobody comes to visit today, but Carmela and Bruce and the babies, los niños are coming to eat lunch tomorrow. I have to start cooking today, now, to finish in time. I think I use extra dishes this time, too many pots, pans, because Sophia washes dishes with me now and talks while she does it. She talks so sweet, her voice is dulce, dulce, dulce, and she is a good worker. Not a baby anymore, so tall! Very healthy, eats what I cook. She dries, I wash. Dishes go fast, wish they went slower.

    Ay, dios, the last time someone did dishes by me was long, long time ago. Back where I was before subsidized living. I love that house a lot, there where I had curtains with lace like how waves fall on sand and red carpets. I had a little statue of Virgen María that I had to leave behind, a small tapestry from Puerto Rico, clean table with a basket of fruit.

    I live here now. There is plastic on the couch and I clean, clean but there is still dust. The neighbours still smoke and I smell it through wall, makes me cough. My lungs are no so good anymore. Mostly my body not working now. It’s just as well I can remember the old house better than I see this apartment, with its smoke and its plastic couches, today. Memory is working funny, I see things from years ago, days like jewels from my childhood on the beach, I see them as clear as anything. But I can’t remember what I wear yesterday, can’t remember if I mailed my check or if I buy grocery. Time is cruel and then it is kind, that is what I think. Memory is all I have.

    Or at least, it was all I had today. I did not take my depression pill, I see what passed very strong and all alone. Nobody visit me today, but Carmela and Bruce and the babies who are no longer babies will visit tomorrow. I need to start cooking very soon. Sophia will wash the dishes, no, I will wash. She will dry.


Note: This piece is from the perspective of my great aunt Geneva, my Titi Jenny, who lives by herself in the Bronx. She comes from Puerto Rico and she is so old that she is forgetting how to speak English, which I tried to capture in the language used.

DANCE

I move my feet to the beat and sway i always wonder how i would dance another day
would i be in the mood for a hip hop jam or how about grand slam would i be in the mood for jazz or how about old fashion ballet how ever i dance i dont care as long as i get to move and sway i wonder how i would dance another day


BY RUE

Passing Friend Activity
Claire
Leah, counselor form sleepaway camp

       "Why do you have to go?"
       Leah laughs, her light brown eyebrows going up like they always do, so that she looks both happy and worried. " It's just for a bit," she says, giving her little sister a hug.
      "But..."
       " Ohh...you're so sweet! I'll come back soon, I promise." With that, Leah dances towards the door and disappears.

*            *              *             *              *               *             *                 *                 *                  *

        The next morning Leah tiptoes downstairs, dressed to run.  Grabbing an apple, she heads out the door.
        Ahhh.... the feel of a fresh, free South Carolina morning. It's winter, so it's breezy. It feels good to Leah. She jogs along a lonely road, lined with forests and tall grass. So peaceful.
        Her thick blond ponytail bounces against her back. her feet hit the ground solidly. She loves to run.

     With his head spinning, Uncle Michael looked up.Yellow and brand new green taxi cabs rushed along the street. Hmmmmm.......... He thought. Maybe I could hail a cab.  




 - I just loved this sentence. Enjoy!!

White and Black furrrr fluffy as well.  I took you for granted and now i regret it. I cant change the past but ill fix the present by saying good bye. So good bye nick you where a good cat. ♥
~Amanda Arias 11-6-13