CRAZY MIXED-UP

LIT MAG

Readington Middle School’s Radiant Wonder, Volume 4 Issue 2

June 2013

Dear Readers,

We hereby bestow upon you, a joyfully fascinated reader, the second issue of the

2012-2013 Radiant Wonder Lit Mag, which will also be this year’s last. We would like

to thank all those who submitted entries; we enjoyed reading your ideas. Writing for

fun is not a commonly used term in middle school lingo, but for us it is. As for the

readers, we would also like to thank you as well, for a magazine is created to be read

by readers’ eyes. Last but not least, we have our fantabulous artists. Though reading

is a traditional act, a little art eye candy goes the distance. We hope you enjoy this

second issue of Radiant Wonder, and hope it inspires you to create some wonders of

your own.

In every beginning, there is an end. We wish our senior editors best of luck in Central.

Just as a blurb of memorabilia, the graduating editors of Radiant Wonder would like

to share an insight with our readers. In every lit mag meeting, the thrill of arriving and

finding a big stack of entries always sinks into our heart. Seeing the work of dedicated

students who share our passion is astounding. In every stanza, paragraph, or typo, we

see the work and creativity used to ignite their work.

After this issue, we will be turning the page to our current magnificent seventh grade

editors, Hanna Goldfarb and David Fallat. In future years, when cars hover or dogs

talk or kids remember pencils, we hope the flame of this festive group illuminates the

stereotypical darkness of recreational writing. This torch provides you, the reader,

writer, editor, or artist, a lightened passage though the maze of our shamefully hidden,

inner creativity.

With an abundant amount of love and care,

Head Editors:

The Amazetacular Amy Kwan

The Phantasmagorical Julia Wickman

Assistant Editors:

The Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Hanna Goldfarb

The Dearest “Fillet” David Fallat

Table of Contents

Title Author Page

Flakes Alice Berlin 4

Summer Erica Bekiarian 4

Airplane Jason Singleton 5

The Couch Amaya Adetiba 5

Waterfalls Amaya Adetiba 6

Finger Paints Sarah Newton 6

Dark Shadow Amaya Adetiba 6

Stage Fright Erin McGowan 7 Needing to be Needed “Grace Wolley” 10

A Love Hate Relationship Amy Kwan 12

Love at First Flight Dan Szallai 12

Golden Maya Patel 13

Haiku Neal Jiwnani 14

Idiom Wishes Dan Szallai 14

Tears Maya Patel 15

Limerick Neal Jiwnani 16

Lie Maya Patel 17

The Summoners Chase Agheli 18

Elements Noah Rothenburger 20

Her Little World “Grace Yellow-Color” 26

Paradise Maya Patel 26

Cyber Bully Amaya Adetiba 27

My Trampoline Amaya Adetiba 30

The Forest Amaya Adetiba 30

Find the Sound Jensen Garboski 30

Best Friends Kaitlyn Cirigliano 31

Soup Sophia Costa 31

Philosophy for the Margins Julia Wickman 32

My Best Friend Jane Matto 33

My Dog Jane Matto 33

Wet Sneakers Liza Higley 33

Summer Amaya Adetiba 41

Cover Art by Hanna Goldfarb Assorted artwork by Hanna Goldfarb &Amy Kwan

Flakes

By Alice Berlin

Not frosted,

Not sweet.

Unique,

Never a pattern.

Not disgusting

Corn cereal.

Melt in an instant.

White.

Light, soft,

And fluffy.

Intricate.

Come in flurries,

And storms.

In winter.

Frozen water,

Snow.

Flakes.

Summer

By Erica Bekiarian

Summer’s splashing,

Hip! Hip! Hooray!

Summer is excellent!

What do I say?

Swimming in the pool,

Having a tan,

Sizzling shades,

Ice cream from the ice cream man.

Summer, summer,

An excellent season

A day filled

With wonderful breezes…

Keeping it cool

Working till school

Is Over.

Airplane

by Jason Singleton

The enormous wings elegantly swept back. The towering tail with the huge logo. The roaring engines that propel this beast. The windows with heads peering out, like mice in a hole. The flight deck in which the pilot sits. The plane is off on its way to near or far to east or west, to somewhere. Shooting through the skies at a cruise speed of five hundred forty miles per hour this plane will carry moms, dads, boys, girls, grandmas, and grandpas . to their vacation . destinations . wherever . it may be.

The Couch By Amaya Adetiba

The Couch, The wonderful marvelous couch. It’s as soft as a feather As pretty as a butterfly And decorated with the most unique spots Like giraffes. When I’m cold it warms me up. When I’m tired it puts me to sleep. When I’m excited it bounces me up. Although………………………….. Its little fingers grab my toys And hide them in the cushion. Its holes enclose my dog. The couch doesn’t do anything about it. This marvelous couch is one of my favorites But sometimes I really do hate it.

Waterfalls

By Amaya Adetiba

As they walk

Water falls Opening its mouth

From above Down onto them

They run Waking everything in their path

With their wails of laughter Ha Ha Ha

Thunder sounds Nothing stops them

Love fills the air They slip under a tree And close their eyes.

Finger Paints

by Sarah Newton

Finger paints are lots of fun And lots of colors, too.

Red and yellow as the sun, And green, besides, and blue. Squishy, squashy, on they go

Like every-colored mud, And with a swishy, swirly whir,

A patting, and a thud— We make read seas or yellow skies,

Whole worlds of green or blue. Besides, our fingers get to be

Such lovely colors, too!

Dark Shadow By Amaya Adetiba

Everywhere I turn it follows Creeping, following my every move

They follow everyone Yet no one notices

The creepy little creatures have no color But cast their dark figure onto the ground

The little creatures disappear when there is no light I’m afraid they’ll sneak up on me

I have tried stepping on them But they are impossible to kill

What are these creatures you ask? Dark Shadows.

Stage Fright

Based on an almost true story

By Erin McGown

Calm down, I told myself, I’m not asking for a lot.

That’s a matter of opinion, my mind countered.

Fair point, I admitted, but you did bring this on yourself.

I was peeking through the stage curtains, out into the RMS auditorium. I

know, I know, it’s supposed to be bad luck to look at the audience before a show,

but I just couldn’t help it. Besides, it wasn’t like the drama club’s entire

production of The Phantom Tollbooth, Jr. would be completely botched if one or

two people in the crowd happened to see me in the few seconds the curtain was

pulled back. Nevertheless, I was careful only to open the curtain a few

millimeters. I couldn’t see much, as part of my vision was obscured by think red

fabric, but what I could see made my stomach erupt into a group of frenzied

butterflies. Row after row of foldable chairs were lined up out there, but that

wasn’t what had me worried. Far worse were the row upon row of people sitting

in them. Hundreds of staring eyes seemed to bore into mine as I carefully slipped

away from the curtain, letting it fall back into place and block out the dull

murmuring sound issuing from the sea of people on the other side. Wasn’t it

agonizing enough that I had to perform in the show for everyone’s parents

tonight? Why did I have to put on a show for my peers as well?

I took a steadying breath. At least I wouldn’t be alone; a few of my friends

were in the chorus, too, and judging by the looks of nausea on their faces, I could

tell they were feeling a little queasy themselves. This was the first show in my

short acting career, and I was just about ready to lose my lunch to nerves. At this

point, I couldn’t even figure out why I had even signed up for Drama Club in the

first place; I had always had terrible stage fright, hadn’t I? Sure, I liked singing in

front of the mirror as much as the next person, but that in no way could prepare

me for this. Singing, acting, and dancing? Forget it. I wouldn’t mind going on stage

if I was ready, but now I was anything besides prepared. In the anxiety of the

moment, I had already forgotten half of my lines, I was a total klutz when it came

to even the simplest dances, and don’t even get me started on my costumes and

props. It was one thing to embarrass myself for something I did, such as messing

up a line, but I knew nobody would even try to listen to me once I walked out

onto the stage. With my hastily scribbled sign advertising verbs for one song, my

old purple bathrobe and too-small heart antennae for another, and, just to

emphasize how ridiculous I looked, a heavy layer of electric blue eye shadow, I

was sure that I had made a fool of myself even before the show had started.

Well, it’s too late to forfeit the part now, my brain insisted, you’ve worked

too hard for too long to let something like a little nerves get in the way. Besides,

the entire chorus has to wear the same thing; no one’s going to pick you out of the

crowd. And you never had that many lines to forget in the first place…

I guess that’s true. And if there’s a silver lining to this cloud, it must be that

it will all be over in a mere hour and a half. All I can do now is get the worst of it

over with, my mind replied.

I suppose you’re right, I though as the introductory music swelled from the

speakers, the curtain was pulled back, and I slipped out of sight of the audience

in the backstage stairwell.

My cue came much too quickly a few minutes later. It feels like I just sat

down a seconds ago! I gulped as my stomach churned and my confidence

wavered.

Well it’s too late for second thoughts now! I shuffled out onto the stage

with the rest of the group in my bathrobe and antennae. There were a few lines

before our big number in this scene, “The Lethargarian Shuffle.” I miraculously

remembered what to say when it was my turn to speak, but I knew I wouldn’t be

so lucky when it came to the singing and dancing. Ever so slowly, the music began

to play, and the entire company spontaneously broke into song.

It was about halfway through the music when it happened: the blunder I

knew I would make no matter how hard I tried not to. I was in the middle of a

tricky little foot movement when I stumbled and nearly fell flat on my face. I then

looked up, my face beet red, expecting to see at least one person to call me out

on my mistake, for someone to notice I hadn’t done everything perfectly. In fact, I

really have absolutely no idea precisely what I was expecting. For the spotlight to

single me out, for the entire audience to scream, “Boo!” and leave, maybe the

end of the world, just to name a few of the things going through my head. What I

was not expecting was nothing.

Well, I speculated that it was nothing, as no jeering voices or disappointed

shouts reached my ears. I couldn’t actually see the audience’s reaction; in fact, I

couldn’t even see past the first few rows of chairs. The spotlights were glaring so

brightly onto the stage that I was nearly blinded when I glanced up.

Now that is something I can work with, I told myself, amazed at my own

sudden cleverness. You know what they say: out of sight, out of mind. If I

couldn’t see the audience, I wouldn’t be afraid of them judging me. So, with an

unprecedented bit of courage, I steeled my nerves, pushed all thoughts of people

watching me from my mind, and put a new burst of enthusiasm into my

performance.

As I leaped around the stage in my ludicrous outfit, a new thought occurred

to me: Maybe this isn’t so bad.

Needing to be Needed

by Grace Wolley

Everybody needs to feel needed. Everybody longs to know that without

them, people wouldn’t be the same. I remember a time when I felt like that.

Now the only things that need me are the dust bunnies that reside on my pillows.

I recall the day I was purchased as though it was yesterday. A family

waltzed into the store in which I was on sale. The parents explained how they

were completely refurnishing their house and were looking for living room

furniture. The family tore apart the store looking for what suited their taste. The

family gazed at me for only a second, but it felt like years. So many people had

come to the store for the same reason, and never even granted me a glance.

Achingly, I acknowledged that this visit was going to be just another one of those

episodes. I heard the little girl whisper to her dad as he politely asked a question I

never thought I’d hear, “How much is this one?” My heart flew to the

stratosphere. I couldn’t believe what I had heard. The rest of the day was a

breeze. My new owners strapped me to the top of their Mazda CX-7 and drove

me to their new home.

My spot was against the wall at the back of the house. I was parallel to the

television, putting me in a prime spot for late night shows. Oh, how I loved being

used. The feeling of being needed brought tingles to my cushions. I loved to be

sat upon by the family, especially the little girls. Every Saturday morning, I could

depend on being awoken by the feeling of two bodies curled up on my lap

watching Tom and Jerry or Wacky Races. My back was enjoyed by the cats which

stretched out on me and slept all day and night. As the felines purred their fur

tickled me. I felt needed by everybody!

Of course, being used so much had its drawbacks. I was the victim of many

spills. I remember one specific time. I was enjoying a comfortable Friday evening

when out of the blue the youngest girl spilled foul smelling blue nail polish on me.

Her parents were frantic! They poured strong, burning, reeking liquid onto the

spill and rubbed it into my cushion until the stain loosened. However, it was

never fully removed. I am tinted forever with the indigo of the horrid nail polish.

Another day I remember quite unpleasantly was the time the cats realized there

was an opening in my back cushion, and they could climb into me. To this day, I

still remember the feeling of little claws tearing holes in my backside. I will still

tolerate anything to be wanted, needed, and enjoyed by my family.

Then, one fateful day reversed my life forever. The family had returned

from an outing earlier that afternoon. Following them marched in two burly men

carrying a large… I nearly screamed! It was a sofa! I was shocked! It was my

replacement. I thought the family loved me. The two buff men turned a corner

and placed the sofa into the recently remodeled den. The next week was

horrible. Men kept strolling into the house with new furniture. A TV, a chair, a

desk, a lamp! They were all being put into the den. Then, as quickly as the

frenzy began, it calmed. But something changed. Normally come and rest on my

soft, warm, reassuring pillows, but instead they sat on the seat of the new sofa.

Rather than of curling up on my cozy cushions, they leaped onto the lavish lap of

the new couch.

My only use now is a scratching post by the cats. The only things that rest

on my once luxurious cushions are dust bunnies. As I grow old, torn, and dusty, I

know I will always cherish the time when I was needed.

A Love Hate Relationship by Amy Kwan Pencil. Oh how much I hate you Smirking at my spelling Penalizing my pencil smudges Chortling at my corny poems But alas Pencil, you have been here forever Since the Battle of Saratoga To the NJASK You have helped me Erased my mistakes Drawing margin doodles Shading with ease Pencil Maybe this is a love-hate relationship

Love at First Flight by Dan Szallai The moment I sit on that old leather Of the Cessna 152, Not a cloud in sight: perfect weather, I’m ready to explore the sky blue. The air plane putt-putts As fast as my heart. When the engine comes To a roaring start. I line up with the runway Some throttle I give it. When the wheels leave the tarmac, The sky’s the limit.

Golden

by Maya Patel

The old man sits there All alone He thinks of his wife Who was his golden throne He went back twenty years Thought of her long golden hair That’s what she shows him Every time she wonders into his thoughtful lair And she shows him much more; She shows him the call When she spoke of her diagnosed brain cancer Early that fall And the end of winter Is painted in his head When she shaved all her hair off She was upset, but “I still love you,” he said

That’s what he misses most; The smiles and luscious hair Together the two of them Made such a wonderful pair But too much of their time Was in a hospital room She was ill and looked weak And knew her life was at doom He sat there, holding her hand Late that summer night Asking her to hold on a little longer But she lost the fight Now he sits there, Lonely and all alone He thinks of his long gone wife Who was his golden throne.

Haiku by Neal Jiwnani

I am a Mountain

Slow and steady I grow tall Forever changing.

Idiom Wishes by Dan Szallai

I wish that I could kill two birds with one stone, Or eat my ice cream after the cone. I wish I could walk in someone else’s shoe Or have my cake, and eat it, too. I wish I could count the chickens before they hatch Or judge a book by its front or back. I wish that clouds really had silver linings, A real money value where the sun is shining. I wish that all grass could be greener, Flashing vibrant with color, wouldn’t that be keener? Not everyone in the world is a complete whiz. If they’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer, who is?

Tears

By Maya Patel

Through the window I look out I watch you stand in the rain I smile and you grin back And we forget about the pain “I love you,” I say For the first time in years My eyes begin to water And down roll the tears Our boy has grown big And he misses you dearly He still claims That in his mind he can see you clearly You’ve been fighting And so have we It’s hard to fight without you Was it hard without me? I love you Now come inside I want to show you our boy He’s overflowing with pride Because his daddy’s a hero, He tells his whole pre-school, My daddy’s brave And I want to be, too.

Come inside, for goodness sake! I gesture to you with an excited hand But then the doorbell woke me up “Ring! Ring!” it rang Our boy jumped on me “There’s people at the door” So I get up and walk over Outside it begins to pour Also outside there is a truck A black truck right in the driveway I open the door and two soldiers stand. It can’t be- That’s not what they’ll say! “Mrs. Johnson, We are sincerely sorry-” Their somber faces explain. Our boy looks afraid. Tears. Tears. Tears. Drip down my face

harder than the pouring rain.

Limerick by Neal Jiwnani

There once was a guy named Joe.

He was very good with a bow. His aim always straight,

His reactions never late, He had yet to meet a foe.

Lie.

Maya Patel

When the world thinks You’re a liar

What can you do, But set it on fire?

Tired of the remarks

They make, Time to show them

How it tastes

I can only explain They just don’t believe

Like they think that I’m trying So hard to conceive

I sit by the window And plan my escape It’s not something

To patch together with tape

They think I’m a liar Nothing left to do but

Set them on fire

Down in flames they go As I sit there,

Watching from the snow

They may cry And ask me why

But so hard I’d try To prove to them,

I’m not a lie.

The Summoners

by Chase Agheli

The demonic being hovered over Blaz, blasting scorching air into her face. It roared, and

created a shriek that could be heard throughout the city. It raised its mace into the air and

slammed it down an inch from Blaz's fallen body. Spikes bristled over the beast's head. Putrid

air blew from its crater-like nostrils as it brought the mace down again and again on Blaz. The

hits always missed the boy's body, but never too far to stop him from screaming. Suddenly, the

creature was a phantom, dissipating into a hazy white mist that vanished into the air. Laughter

began as soon as the creature disappeared, and Blaz knew who it was coming from. She

squinted, and sure enough, Crendran Forth was standing about fifty yards away, sneering at her

in the midst of his cronies. Crendran was the one who Summoned the horrible creature.

You see, anxious reader, Blaz lived in a great civilization of what were called

Summoners, men and women who use the power of the mystical FateRings, and could pull

creatures from the spirit world Clorjal. The creature Crendran had summoned was a GonTroll, a

beast with red skin as strong as iron, jagged razors sticking out from its skull, and claws that

flickered with fire. Crendran had all the advanced, speedy Summoning training because his

father was a powerful Realm Priest, a person who had achieved enlightenment and alignment

with Clorjal. If you thought a GonTroll was powerful, you should have seen his Guardian, the

weak creature that was too accompany the Summoner until the training was over. Crendran's

was anything but weak. He had a Rhanadre, an amphibious creature the size of a wolf, that was

almost like a barracuda with limbs, albeit limbs that had claws five inches long. To top it all off,

its back was covered with dagger-sharp spines that could be extended about four feet.

Could Blaz's Guardian top something like a Rhanadre? Maybe when pigs fly. (Well, there

is a type of warthog with bat wings in Clorjal, but Blaz didn't think it counted.) His creature was

a Quorsan named Gulit, who was pretty much a puppy sized squid with twenty legs. It was also

just a child, so it wanted to play at the worst of times. The only upside of the creature to most

people was the intelligence enough to even understand basic human speech. Way too many

Summoners judge a creature by how far they can breathe fire. He sighed as he waved his hand,

causing Gulit to appear in mid-air. The creature repeatedly bounced into the side of Blaz's head,

his one eye squinting in an expression of pleasure.

“ Stop it, Gulit!” he exclaimed, with a smile on his face. No matter how unusual the

monster was, he would always love his Guardian. When Blaz saw who was walking toward him,

Gulit vanished only a few moments after he appeared. The truth was, Blaz wasn't supposed to

still have the Quorsan. He had started advanced Summoner training a month ago, and he

should have gotten rid of Gulit by now. The sad truth was that Gulit was the best creature he

could summon, mostly because the only two creatures he could summon easily was the dumb

floating Jelliglog and the blue, plump, and fairy-like Hoocti. The man stopped when he was near

Blaz. Next to him was a Slaka, a ferocious and venomous creature that appeared to be a red

tiger. The man spoke. “ Hello, Novice Blaz.”

“Greetings, Realm Priest Rendizaka.” Blaz replied as he bowed.

“ I heard you conversing with a someone,” The Realm Priest said. He looked around the

field. “Yet there is no one here. Were you conversing with a creature?”

“ No.” Blaz said, but he knew Rendizaka knew he was lying. The Slaka growled at the boy

when he saw the look of suspicion on the Realm Priest's face. With a snap of his fingers, three

Glips appeared out of his giant royal ring. Bronze spheres the Glips were, with eyes like pools of

water and a toothless mouth that wrapped around their entire body. They hovered in front of

Blaz, their eyes creating the dreaded Glip Spasm. While it gave you a somewhat drunken

feeling, it also acted like a truth serum. “ Who were you talking too? The Priest asked.

“M-m-m-my- Guardian.” Blaz stuttered. He wanted to scream and run, but the Glip

Spasm held him in its grasp.

“You are not supposed to have him him anymore!” Rendizaka shrieked. “” If I see him

again, he will be destroyed by a Florgonkirala!”

Blaz shuddered. Florgonkiralas were the predators of Clorjal, and they tortured their

prey before they ate them. The nightmares of Summoner children were filled with the image of

the monstrous creature. As Rendizaka walked away, Blaz turned in the opposite direction to the

hovel where his best friend Myro lived. When Blaz walked in, Myro was on the couch playing

with his guardian, a Selpiples named Fract. The Guardian bounced around Myro happily, his

small, humanoid body separated into a bright white half and deep black half, seemingly

connected by nothing. When Fract saw Blaz, the dark side side tried to greet him but the other

wanted to stay with Blaz. (While they are usually single-minded, Selpiples can sometimes have

a bipolar personality) unable to separate more than half a foot, the two bodies fell in a heap on

the ground.

“Why so glum?” Myro asked as he jumped off his couch.

“ Realm Priest Rendizaka said that if he saw me with Gulit again, he would send a

Florgonkirala on him!” Blaz replied unhappily. He materialized Gulit once more, and the

Quorsan started playfully smacking Fract with each of his twenty arms.

“Why can't you keep him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, they let me keep Fract because of that thing Selpiples can do. You know, cause

temporary confusion or vertigo. It's useful against enemy militias in war.”

“ Yeah, but Quorsans can't do anything like that.”

Myro frowned for a moment, trying to remember something. “ I think I read in Clorjal

Manor somewhere about Quorsans. I think some have this big mental ability. I'm not sure if it's

true.”

“WHAT?!” Blaz shouted in surprise. “I could keep Gulit?”

…TO BE CONTINUED

Elementals By Noah Rothenburger

Prologue The rain came hard that day. Some say it was the worst deluge the town of Lijaa had ever seen. Everyone was inside either their house or a tavern, gathered around a fire, listening to tales of the days of yore. The days when darkness was banished by mystical beings known as Elementals. These creatures each had the ability to control a different type of substance. This matter they controlled was usually a building block of the world. Many believed these beings had been destroyed in the Great War long ago. But far from the laughter and suspense by the fire, a great power surged within the storm. For amidst the chaos, a flame of hope was being lit. On the peak of the Eqynox Mountain, a diamond encrusted figure laid his small child down between the slabs of granite. The baby’s skin was a silvery blue, and his head had flecks of gold on it. Determined to save the last child Elemental, the figure turned around and faced the army of Rinlehs, a distant cousin of trolls. With long tusks and stone-like skin, these behemoths could put up a suitable fight. Leading them was a fiery demon clad in rock armor. But they were nothing compared to Diamondii, one of the last surviving Elementals.

Chapter 1

A metallic silver-blue fist slammed into the wall. It was followed by a right hook, then a left jab. Pyx had been locked up for three years, and during that time his anger had never subsided. His rage never quelled. He had vowed revenge on all those who put him here. Another hammering blow to the wall. One day, he would break free. One day, those who put an Elemental in the Srent- a magical, unbreakable prison- would learn what true pain is. One day, they would learn that Hell hath no fury like the taste of vengeance-- the power of hatred.

Chapter 2 Far away, in the castle of Uhayt, a cloaked figure silently packed provisions for a long journey, hardy rations that would sustain her for a long time. Although Princess Stella, heir to the throne of her father, knew that this action would change her life, she was ready to take the chance. Slinging a slim rapier and the pack of food over her shoulder, she departed the castle like a wraith, quietly and swiftly. Not a word. Unbeknownst to Stella or Pyx, their paths were intertwined: the journey of a lost princess, and that of the last surviving Elemental.

Chapter 3 Stella swept back the hood of her cloak as she ran parallel to the river. A feeling of elation filled her and she laughed out loud uncontrollably. Spinning in circles, she lay back and stared up at the blue sky. Her shoulder-length, brown hair fanned out about her, and the cloudless sky reflected off her deep chestnut eyes. A slight wind blew her cloak over her face, revealing a slight frame with tanned skin. In all respects, Stella was beautiful. Laughing again, she relished her freedom. It had been a week since she ran away from the castle. In that time, she had trained with her rapier, visited towns, and had a grand time. Stella was busy looking back on her experiences when she heard a commotion. Standing up quickly, she unsheathed the rapier and held it out in front of her. Suddenly, two Rylden- birdlike creatures with leathery wings and barbed tails, known for being affiliated with evil- stumbled out of the woods next to her. Held between them was what appeared to be a hermit. The Rylden glanced up, noticed the blade, and hissed. Still holding the sword, Stella commanded, “Now just put down the little man and I won’t have to use this.” Their ebony eyes flashed, but they obeyed. The hermit fell to the ground with a thud, where he lay, shuddering. Stella breathed a sigh of relief; keeping her rapier steady, she ran over to the where the man had fallen. “Are you injured?” she questioned. He didn’t answer immediately, only pointed to the Ryldens. Whirling around, Stella expected the creatures to attack. But they were gone. She looked up and saw their faint silhouettes spiraling into the sky. “What did they want from you?” she asked, turning back to the hermit. “I shall start from the beginning, so take a seat. My name is Muls. I am the Hermit of Lakewood Forest. I have the gift of Sight. It allows me to ‘see beyond’, if you will. I can see into the future of someone or someones. A while back, in a vision, I saw Ryldens following me, trailing me, capturing me. Then, yesterday, a group of them came to my door. I managed to fight most of them, for I know magic, but two evaded me. Those two were the ones you saw. And now I am here.” “That doesn’t answer my question,” Stella said bluntly as she stood up. “What did they want from you?” “Well, my theory is that whoever employed the Rylden- as you know they are mercenaries- knew about my gift and wanted to exploit it.”

“Okay, let’s go,” Stella responded. “Wait! Go where?” Muls cried. “To find this evil…thing that employed the Rylden and ‘ask’ it a couple questions,” she said with a smirk as she ran off.

“Oh, why do I always get stuck with the crazy ones!?” Muls exclaimed. Then waddled after her.

Chapter 4 Pyx paced back and forth across the prison’s lone room. Then, out of the blue, he exploded into a ground-shaking punch to the floor. The Elemental was supposed to be locked here for eternity, locked away from the world. Pyx thought this was to keep the world safe from his wrath. He could not have been more wrong. Continuing to pace, he dreamt up ways to destroy those who imprisoned him, ways to undermine and wreak havoc upon those who killed his father. But in all essence, Pyx was not very hateful; he just held grudges-- grudges that could only be paid in blood.

Chapter 5 Stella would have been happy to skip along the riverbed until the day her legs gave out, but unfortunately, that’s just what happened to Muls. “Wait! Stop! Halt!” he burst out, gasping for air. Stella stopped skipping. She sighed, “Come on, you fat little man! We have to reach the nearest town by sundown, or else we’re going to have to spend a night by the forest. And I don’t think I need to remind you- someone who’s lived in the forest their whole life- that there are very contemptuous things that come out after dark.” Muls harrumphed at this, but nodded his head and trudged on. They reached the town just as dusk fell. Walking through the gates, Muls spotted an inn about four blocks ahead of them. When the duo arrived there, they were greeted by an open door and a very extroverted bartender. “Yo! What’s going down you two?” the bartender broadcasted. Both Stella and Muls’ mouths hit the floor. “Hey dudes, I asked you a question!” the bartender yelled. Stella managed to gain control again and compose herself, but Muls still stood with his mouth open in disbelief. “Hellooooooo! You, chubbers, with the large belly! I am talking to you!” Muls blushed from tip to toe, pulled himself together, stood up to his full height (which wasn’t very tall), and harrumphed for the second time that night. Stella just giggled and turned away. The hermit glared daggers at her and turned back to the bartender. “Ahem, well yes. You see we are looking for a room and-” “Look, if you can fit up the stairs, the rooms are on the left and the lavatories are on the right,” the bartender cut in. By this time, Stella was holding her hips trying not to laugh, and all the while Muls just kept growing more infuriated. “Now you listen here! I will not stand for this! I will-” Again the bartender interrupted.

“Hush now butterball, yah gonna make that fine damsel with you explode with her lafta’.” Muls made a sound that was between a grunt and a snort and stomped upstairs. “Well he obviously needs to take a nap. My name is Zephyr, what’s yah’s?” Zephyr asked. “Stella,” the princess responded. She hadn’t really gotten a good look at Zephyr until now. He

had bright green, mischievous eyes, set into a dark face with a brown crew cut. Zephyr was donned in a

black, torn vest, a white button shirt, and black pants. The bartender was barrel-chested and short, but despite this, very quick.

Stella realized she had been staring, and with a shy wave, ran upstairs. “My oh my, isn’t she a fine lookin’ girl if I evah saw one,” Zephyr muttered to himself as he

continued to scrub the glasses and countertop.

Chapter 6 The hated. The feared. The heartless. These had all been used to describe Pyx. Locked in the

Srent to rot for eternity, Pyx had become very, very hateful. And very, very angry. He began to pace again. Back and forth, back and forth. This pacing helped him vent his loathing for the world. But nothing would ever suppress it. He spun around and hammered the wall…and felt it give. Pyx fell back in surprise. The Srent was supposed to be an unbreakable, everlasting prison. Running back to the wall, he battered it again and again. Finally, he managed to create a miniscule hole in the barrier. The Elemental stepped backwards and, summoning up every last bit of strength, blasted a huge pillar of jagged metal through the ground and into the wall. It broke. Pyx walked forward in disbelief. Forward into the sunlight. Forward into freedom. And yet, his loathing and hatred was still not suppressed. Pyx would carry that burden with him, for the rest of his life.

Chapter 7

Stella woke up shivering and sweating. She had had a horrifying nightmare. She, Muls, and what looked like a metal human had been standing in a lava field. Suddenly, a being made entirely of rock and magma rose from the earth. Lightning crackled in the sky as the figure descended on them. The creature pulled back his arm and threw a ball of lava at Stella. She screamed and tried to cover her face, but to no avail. Stella could feel the heat radiating off of it as the orb came closer. Then, right before it hit her, she saw a silver-blue shape step in front of the projectile. It hit him hard in the chest, but he didn’t even flinch. Lifting his hands, the figure erected giant pillars of metal and, with a twitch of his hands, brought them down on their enemy. Then…darkness. Just then, Muls rushed into the room. Stella opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off. “Don’t talk. Did you dream about the Elementals?” She nodded. “Okay, then we need to leave, like now,” there was a sense of urgency in the hermit’s voice that wasn’t there before. Without any hesitation, Stella packed her small knapsack and hustled down the stairs, Muls trailing close behind. “Hey there missus. Where ‘er ye headed this fahne morning? Zephyr called from his place behind the bar. “Can’t chat, Zephyr. We have to go,” Stella called back. “Well then, can aye come with ya’ll?” Muls looked at Stella, and she looked back. It was going to be tough having three people and only one food supply. “I can bring mer own food if it pleases ya’ll,” Zephyr said. “Alright, you can come,” Stella responded almost immediately. She felt a connection to this free-living spirit, and she wasn’t going to lose it.

“Yee haw!” Zephyr hollered as he leaped over the bar, grabbed a dirk and slid it into his belt, and pulled food and drink from the counter’s storage. In no time at all he was ready. Leaning over, he kissed the counter-top and whispered, “I’ll be back in no time at all, just don’t get too dusty.”

Then the unlikely team was off. A hermit, a run-away princess, and a wild bartender, on an adventure.

They walked quickly through the streets. Everywhere, children played and ran. Flowers were blooming, and the wives were coming out to water their gardens.

“So where we headed?” Zephyr asked. Stella pointed far to the north, where a volcano stood alone, spewing smoke and ash into the

air. “Eqynox Mountain. Home of the Fire Lord.”

Chapter 8 Pyx stepped out into the world, and found himself atop a mountain chain. One more step and he would plummet down into the earth below. Peeking his head over the edge, he saw clouds drifting to and fro, and below that, a vast region of desert wasteland. The Elemental looked left and right, and only saw serrated mountain tops that seemed to stretch on forever. He sighed, because he knew what he had to do to get off the mountain. Stepping back, Pyx ran forward and vaulted off the mountain top and into the sky. Then he dropped like a dead weight. He sped up as he fell, faster and faster with each second. Curling up into a ball, he braced for the inevitable. BOOM! The crater from Pyx’s impact was gargantuan. A dust cloud carried by the shock wave encircled the surrounding area. Uncurling, Pyx stood up. Already coming into shape around him were cloaked creatures. They were the Keepers of the Desert. They were demons. They were Djinn.

Chapter 9 Once out of town, the trio continued on down the beaten roads and paths. Forests and plains were lefty behind them as they walked. For many days and nights, they slept in makeshift shelters and only traveled during daylight. But then, after days of trekking through harsh wilderness, Stella, Muls, and Zephyr reached a barrier: The Tirake Desert. A wasteland filled with ruins of lost civilization and inhabited by supernatural spirits known as Djinn. Crossing the Tirake was no easy task, but on the other side lay the Eqynox Mountain.

Zephyr, always the optimistic one, said, “Well ah we all gonna just stand heere and watch the sand go bah, or ah we gonna take action and cross dis thang?” Muls and Stella, still not all-the-way accustomed to Zephyr’s speech pattern, chuckled and nodded in assent. Leading the way, Zephyr took the first step, in the last leg of their journey.

Chapter 10 The Djinn began to close the circle around Pyx. He could only barely make out their shapes. The Djinn were humanoid and had tattooed skin. All of them carried some sort of staff with a gem embedded in the top of it. Falling into a ready stance, Pyx readied his powers. All the while, the Djinn slowly but surely surrounded him, tighter and tighter. Summoning up metal crystals, they floated around him in a protective barrier. The Djinn started to chant, the gems on their staffs glowing bright. Then, Pyx struck. Pointing his hand at one of the sorcerers, a crystal flew at them and embedded itself in the Djinn’s chest. Screeching a horrible scream, the Djinn collapsed and disintegrated into nothing. Another Djinn hissed at Pyx and shot a ball of blue-black flame at him. The Elemental trained a crystal on the second Djinn and fired. Again, it disintegrated. But the ball of flame continued to travel. It hit Pyx in the chest and he dropped to the ground. Pyx opened his eyes. He was a child again, watching his father battle hordes of Rinlehs, blasting diamonds from his hands and lifting huge blocks of corundum at the trolls. But this time, his father didn’t die, he didn’t go down fighting. He prevailed. The Rinlehs had fallen back and were dying by the

hundreds. Wait, Pyx thought. This isn’t how it went. It was then he realized that the Djinn had put him in a Wish Verse; a fake alternate reality showing his deepest desire. Fighting the Verse took extreme will. Waking up from it was unheard of. But the Djinn had never seen anything like the Elementals. Pyx snapped awake to find the Djinn feasting off his soul. He could feel himself weakening. With every last drop of will, he jerked upwards, projecting colossal metal shards into the mystics. They dropped him, and began to screech and writhe. Then they were gone, leaving an almost dead Elemental on the edge of the Tirake Desert.

Chapter 11

As soon as Stella stepped onto the Tirake, she knew it was going to be a long and treacherous hike. There was no shade from the ever-present sun, and the only source of water was in the ruins and oases. While walking, nobody tried to make conversation, so they could save whatever little moisture their mouths’ held. Before long, they were already lost and confused. The desert’s dust storms had covered up all of their tracks, and everything around them looked the same. As night fell, the trio was still lost. The only bearings they had had been to keep the mountain range to their right. If Muls, Stella, and Zephyr thought days in the Tirake were hard, they were in for a terrible time at night. Muls, accustomed to forest life, took a piece of flint from a pocket in his robe and some kindling they had picked up prior to entering the desert, and began to make a fire. Before long, he had a roaring blaze. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?!” Stella asked as she and Zephyr ran over. “Making warmth,” Muls blatantly responded. “No no no!” Stella yelled. She kicked sand on the fire and it died down to just hot embers. “Look Muls. If you thought the creatures that lived in the forest were bad, you have no ideas how awful the ones that love in the desert are.” Just then, bone-chilling howls rend the air. It was followed by a scream of pain. “Zephyr…” they both whispered.

Chapter 12 Pyx awoke to a blood-curdling scream. Shaking himself loose, he brushed off the sand from his body. Although he was sore and still weak, Pyx knew that a cry of pain that intense could only mean one thing: Djinn. Using his heightened senses, Pyx followed the sound of the scream. It led him to a remote outcrop of ruins and boulders. In the center of the outcrop, there was a blue flame glowing bright. Circling around the flame, numerous Djinn were swaying and chanting, raising their staffs and slamming them back into the ground. Floating above the fire was Zephyr. Though Pyx didn’t know him, he knew that Zephyr was suffering. He could see the Djinn draining the bartender’s soul. Pyx felt a rare pang of empathy. He knew the awful agony Zephyr was experiencing. Then the empathy was gone. In its place was bitter rage. It was time to settle a score.

Her Little World By Grace Wolley Amidst a field of flowers she lay, Staring at the brightening skies. The air smelt like a fresh spring day, As the sun began to rise. The butterflies flittered to and fro, In a carefree sort of dance. Behind the trees cowered a doe, While it’s fawn began to advance. The girl sat smiling on the grass, Her eyes wide and bright. She was a charming little lass, She lit up the day and night. She lay there sprawled below the clouds, Staring at the endless blue sky. With her mind full of thoughts new-found, No wondering where or why. In this world there was no pain, No hunger, fear, or sorrow. There were no troubles for her to gain, No worries ‘bout tomorrow. As the sun in this world set, Another sun began to rise. As the little girl sat up, And slowly opened her eyes. The sterile room so clean and white Seemed duller than yesterday’s. What was almost blinding in the light, Was now clouded by a haze. She looked up at the faces of people, She cared about so deeply. Looking into mommy’s eyes, She whispered, “Mama, I’m sleepy.”

Paradise by Maya Patel Paradise should be A life at home Instead it feels like I’m trapped under a dome Nowhere to run No place to hide I’m being punished For asking why Paradise should be A family who loves you But I get this not No one ever said “I do.” No one to talk to No one to love I spend my time searching For stars up above Paradise should be Well, I don’t know. Paradise is the arrow My life is the bow. I sit back Watch the arrow go free Wonder to myself, “Why can’t that be me?”

Cyber bully

By Amaya Adetiba

“Ellie is a big fat ugly jerk,” I submitted onto Facebook. Within a few seconds I got a reply.

“Yeah, Ellie is so stupid it hurts.”

“Beep, beep, beep,” my alarm clock went off.

“Oh great,” I mumbled to myself “time to go to school.”

I packed my schoolbag and stuffed a waffle into the toaster. Then I snatched my phone off of the table and checked my Facebook account. I slowly read a conversation between to anonymous chatters:

“Does Ellie ever take a shower?”

“She totally smells like B.O.”

“I know right?”

“I heard her mother doesn’t even let her in the house because she’s too smelly.”

“Are you serious?”

“That’s exactly what I heard.”

I started to feel really guilty for starting this.

“Hey Squirt,” Elliot said as he playfully pulled my hair.

“Ouch!” I said pushing him away. Sometimes my big brother was such a pain.

“Pop,” I grabbed my waffle and shuffled towards the door.

“Elliot, I have to go to school, are you going to be okay?”

“Amanda, stop treating me like a child. I am older than you, remember?”

“Gosh, I was just making sure everything was alright.”

“Goodbye,” Elliot said as he grabbed his crutches to come lock the door.

Three weeks passed, and I hadn’t been on Facebook recently because I had lost my phone. I was in the office looking for it when I spotted my glittery green case peeking out from under some sweaters in the lost and found bin.

“Found it!” I shrieked happily. I immediately checked my Facebook account. My smile was overtaken by a frown when I read the page:

“Ellie should die, nobody would care anyways.”

“She stinks up the whole entire school.”

“Did you know she sleeps with a blanket?”

“Wow, I have to tell everyone!”

“I saw her sleeping with it last year, I’m pretty sure she called it Mr.Fuzzybud.”

That was it, I had seen enough! No wonder Ellie hadn’t come to school, she probably didn’t want to have to face people.

As I walked back to class from the office our principal, Mrs.Crompton came onto the loud speaker: “Students, all of you should know that Ellie Sanrivas committed suicide last night and is no longer with us.” That was all I heard because I passed out.

My eyes squinted at the bright light. “Amanda are you ok?” I heard my mother say. I didn’t answer but I nodded my head.

“You have been unconscious for three days,” the doctor said “You went into shock. You are completely healthy, but we want to make sure you are okay.”

Once they finished giving me a checkup, we headed home. The car ride was completely silent. I sat next to Elliot; he seemed so relieved that I was alive. When I arrived at home I stumbled into my room, I was still a little dizzy from fainting. I slowly turned on the computer. Then, I logged onto Facebook. Everyone blamed me for Ellie’s death. They were leaving really mean comments for me. I read the first two:

“How could Amanda be so mean to Ellie?”

“Yeah, Ellie was a close friend and now she's gone, thanks Amanda.”

There were lots more comments calling me words that I wouldn’t even say if I was paid to. Those comments hurt; they made me feel alone in the world.

My walls were caving in on me, I had nowhere to run. Everywhere I went people were laughing, whispering or pointing at me. I avoided people as much as possible. I ate lunch in the bathroom stalls every day. I was going into depression. Then I met Matt.

Matt was bullied because of his religion. He had it worst then I did. The popular kids started a hate page called “Muslim Matt.” On this page they not only wrote rude comments about Matt but they also made fun of Matt’s religion. Matt and I tried telling the principal but all he said was “Listen, this isn’t a big deal. You’ll live, and it’s not like I can punish the kids anyways because there is no law against it.”

That changed our perspective on things. Our goal was to make cyber bullying against the law. We went to a bunch of different houses and each house said something like “you kids

should go find something better to do.” These people made me want to scream. Did they know that this affected a lot of kids around the world? This was a serious issue that needed to be solved.

“We’re are going to need a new plan,” Matt said

“Yes, this isn’t working,” I replied. So far we had only received three signatures and we had gone to one hundred and four houses.

“Meet back here tomorrow at 9:15?” Matt asked

“Yes, goodbye Matt,” I said

“Bye,” he replied.

When I arrived at home there was a new page on Facebook dedicated to me. “This is going to be lovely,” I mumbled to myself sarcastically. When I clicked the page I immediately started to tear up, I had a hate page. This made Matt’s seem like a wonderful dream instead of a horrible nightmare. Memories of Ellie flashed through my head as I cried. Was this really what I put her through? How could a living person be so cruel? One thing was for sure: I was a horrible person.

I snuck into my parents’ bathroom and stole my mom’s pill bottle. I was going to commit suicide. Before I took the pills, I wrote Matt and Elliot a letter telling them how much I loved them. It took me a few hours to write the letters, and before I knew it, the clock read 10:00 am. I slipped twelve pills into my mouth as my door busted open. Matt stood there, he had seen me slip the pills into my mouth. He ran over to me as I fainted. Then, I felt my head throbbing fiercely. Matt was saying something, but I couldn’t hear him. That’s when it all stopped. I blinked one last time and never woke up again.

My Trampoline

By Amaya Adetiba My trampoline Bounces me up to the stars Catches me in its net Sits in the yard Turning the grass under it into a wild forests The springs support the base They create the bounce The base burns my bare feet when it’s sunny out And keeps cold when it rains The base is like a refrigerator Staying the same temperature until changed The poles steadily hold the whole structure I bounce and do tricks until I’m out of breath But my trampoline still waits for me.

The Forest By Amaya Adetiba The beautiful forest, Crash Snap Crash Go the trees. Memories of Running , being free. Crash Snap Crash Goes the moment. The river, The animals, Gone. My bare feet bury themselves In the soil. Crash Snap Crash Goes the last bit of me

Find the Sound

by Jensen Garboski

Silence fills the air.

More powerful than a scream, It creeps inside you,

Filling you with a feeling of doubt and paranoia. Whispering in your ear

Thoughts of despair and loneliness. It tries to convince you

To break the spell. You open your mouth,

And nothing comes out. You are trapped.

Forever alone in a dungeon Of pitch black emptiness.

Waiting for the day Someone,

Something, Ends the silence.

Best Friends By Kaitlyn Cirigliano We hang out every day. I listen to every word you say. Your secrets are safe with me. I am not going to tell every person I see, Like fake friends Who cause friendships to end. I am not like that. I am a true friend and you are too. We are the perfect match, Like two cookies in a batch. You’re my lights And I am your tree, I am your honey And you’re my bee. I can’t see My life without you. I don’t think I would know what to do. I wouldn’t regret Soup The very first moment that we met, Cause I bet By Sophia Costa It was the best day of my life.

What is a bowl of soup? Is it just food, just a bottomless pit?

Open your eyes and take a look, For you will see something more.

Take an adventure full of diversity Within a bowl of soup,

For we can learn so much From such a simple food.

You will never hear a rumor; All of us really aren’t that different.

You can see a rainbow of personalities Which all have great spice.

So what truly is a bowl of soup? It’s a beautiful journey to the brighter side of life.

When life gets rough, just remember We can learn a lot from a bowl of soup.

Philosophy for the Margins by Julia Wickman

What is imagination? In the blink of an eye or a mere snap of the fingers, imagination will appear. It is not a thing, but a state of the mind, in which people’s mind’s wander to the possible and impossible. The mind shattesrs the fragile cube of reality and enters into its’ own hopes, despairs and desires. The cube has its barren forests of scares, castles of power nad its cottages of dreams. These lands which have been generally named as imagination have an effect like no other. Each imagination has new pathways and skies and creatures, new to the human mind, perhaps discovered by a non-human creature kind. Perhaps imagination is the penetration and entrance into another’s glass cube. Is hate or love more powerful? Without love, we’d have no hate. The intensity of hate stems from the intense passion that love creates. In my opinion, love is more powerful than hate. True love presents as inseperable bond between two people, who will do anything and everthing fot he goodwill of their partner. Hate drives people to desperate measures doing craY rthings to break the bonds love creates between people. However, the love can’t be completely broken by hate, as bricks don’t destruct steel, as 9/11 didn’t end our country as coloring outside the lines doesn’t ruin the picture. Love will alwas preside over hate, even in times of despair and depressin. The bombn set off at the Boston marathon didn’t keep the passionate runners away from the finish line, nor away from their bonds of running. What is in a name? A name doesn’t define a personality or the face or life of a person. It is just an identification technique that people use to identify each other, as faces aren’t enough from a thousand million miles away. Abigail, Barry, Chloe and Dan, Deborah, Ezekiel, Frank and Hans. These names are the printed, the used, the said. Written on cards and incitation of all sorts and in books like fairytales and poems like such. How important are names to society? MUCH Called by people of all races, ages and size. Names are like the P-Touch labels- applied and stuck on us like Super Glue to sandpaper, because no matter how hard you try to shed the reputation associated with your names, it will never ever completely go away.

My Best Friend by Jane Matto My best friend is more valuable than gold Because of all the kindness that she holds. She’s the only one I can turn to When I’m feeling blue. I don’t know what I’d do if we’d never met Cause she’s the best friend I’m ever gonna get. I wish that she could realize what she does to me. Maybe this is a chance to make her see That for her I’d run to the solar system’s end Because she is a great best friend.

My Dog by Jane Matto My dog is great to own. She comforts me when I’m alone. She always wants to play with me And her inner kindness is all I see. The way her white fur shines in the sun Cannot be disliked by anyone And although she never lets us rest, My dog is the very best.

Wet Sneakers By Liza Higley

June 28, 2012 Dear Journal, This is so stupid. I can’t even tell you. Actually, I can’t tell you, because you’re not living, so this is even stupider because it’s like talking to a pretend person. Except it’s actually a piece of paper. Mom is making me write in this book because as she says it, “I want to hear all about you new experiences, and all your new friends, and honey, oh it will be so much fun!” Yeah. Fun. So fun. I don’t get why I can’t just stay home. But the first daughter always has to be just like their mothers, and since mom went here, to stupid Camp Boredom, I have to too, and that’s the scoop. So if you don’t understand what’s happening, I have to go to summer camp on a lake, and I don’t even know how to swim. ~Elizabeth June 29, 2012 Dear Journal, I just got to camp today, and it was super scary, ‘cause I had to cross in a boat. And I can’t swim. And it rocked when I stepped in it. And it could have tipped over. Before I left, Mom was hugging me all over, she even cried. Oh my gosh, I was watching all of the girls, hoping they wouldn’t see. It was so embarrassing! I pulled out of her grip, gave a tiny smile, said “see ya”, and got into the boat. When I got to camp I got to my cabin, and everyone was already there, so I got stuck with the top bunk-bed, (without a ladder to it even!) and you wouldn’t even believe who I got as my bunkmate.

She was from the city, if that makes anything ring a bell, and she was afraid of spiders, and she brought a hair straighter with her. Her hair was already straight too. I can already tell this will be an awful two weeks. Here’s my schedule for the day: 7:00 Morning Bugle- time to get up!

7:15 Flag rising- My bunk-mate (her name is Megan) is upset she only has 15 min. to get ready-oh brother… 7:20 Breakfast 8:00 Cabin clean-up- judging by the girl who sleeps near the back window, this won’t do any good. 8:30 First Period (Copper Jewelry-Moms choice.) 9:30 Second Period (Nature class- rumor has it you go scuba diving- Uh oh….) 10:30 Third period (Sailing- Moms choice also- I think I might die in this class!) 11:10 Rest hour (so far, I think it’ll be the best part of the day) 12: 10 Lunch Bugle (My counselor Toni-short for something-said they have PB+J lunch choice everyday, so I’m all set with that) 1:10 Fourth Period (Soccer- best period yet!) 2:10 Fifth Period (Archery) 3:10 Sixth Period (Swimming Lesson) 4 10 Free period (!!) 4:20 Free Swim 6:00 Dinner Bugle 7:00 Evening Program- apparently, its just a bunch of fun games you do with the camp in the lodge, or capture the flag sometimes!

*Sundays are camp fire night, and we sing songs, and we can get awards for different classes, or the cleanest cabin. So anyway, that’s it for today; the first dinner bugle just rang, so I’m off to supper for the first time! Only 13 days left!!!!! ~Elizabeth June 30, 2012 Dear Journal,

Last night we had cabin night, and we met a few people in the cabin. Most of them seem nice, except for Rachel, who keeps complaining about how everyone snores, or makes too much noise in the night, or how her bunkmate, I think her name is Jackie, rolls over and shakes the bed too much in the night. Speaking of lousy bunkmates, Megan asked if she could use a few shelves of mine, (in the cabin, the top bunks have five shelves to keep their stuff on) I said okay, and went off to play tether-ball with Jackie-she’s my new best friend- and when I came back, four of the five shelves were full of her nail polish, and shampoo, and makeup. When I got up onto my bed for a closer look, she had written a note. It went like this: Hey bunkmate! Thanks for letting me use some of your shelves- just some. Sorry if I used too many, but I had no room in my trunk, if I stuffed too much in my clothes might get wrinkled, and that would be really weird.- (I looked down at my own wrinkled t-shirt, whatever.) Thanks a bunch! Luv, Megan

Oh great. At least I could join Jackie in “The Worst Bunkmate Ever Club.” I didn’t want to make her move her stuff, because I didn’t really want any enemies in my first week of camp, so I stuffed all of my stuff; pencils, a pad, my notebook, shampoo, bug spray, my mini flashlight I got from mom, my toothbrush, and my tooth paste, onto the final shelf, balancing them so they wouldn’t fall on me in the night. But too bad, 'cause a bottle of her nail polish ended up soaring into my eye at 1:30 last night, and it was a big, heavy bottle too. I wouldn’t be surprised if I ended up getting a concussion. But I guess that might be better- at least I could go home. On the bright side, only 12 days left!! ~Elizabeth July 1st, 2012 Dear Journal,

Sorry I forgot to write yesterday. Too much happened, I kinda got distracted. I t was the first day of activities, and It wasn’t as bad as I thought. In copper, my class learned how to make the basic stuff. It’s actually pretty cool. We get to pick out these copper pieces, and put on this powder and put it in an oven thing. In nature class, we got nick-names, and mine happens to be the worst ever! I’m Evergreen Elizabeth, and I’m the only one in my whole class who got named after a tree, or a plant for that matter- except Poison Ivy Pam. She has the worst name…

Then I had sailing, and luckily we didn’t have enough time to go in the water, but she said everyone has to wear a lifejacket, so I won’t look like a doof when I’m the only one in the class that wants to wear one.

Then I had archery, and it is like a ton of fun! We get to use real bow and arrows, and we shoot at real target. So far, I’m the best one in my class, ‘cause I made the target twice, on my first try!

In soccer I am with Jackie, and guess what!? She plays on three soccer teams too, and she’s pretty good. Unfortunately, I had swimming lessons today, and its completely terrifying. We took a swimming test to see what level swimming class we are in, and you can probably guess what class I’m in- yup- level 1. The worst. We had to swim five laps of doggy-paddle, I did ½. And then we had to tread water for 10 min. I did 0. I was too tired from my half lap. Afterwards, we had a swim lesson, and if you were wondering, I was paired with three eight year olds, a seven year old, and a nine year old. We had to swim in about two feet of water, so that the seven year old could stand. Did I mention the water was about 30 degrees?

Yeah, if you couldn’t guess, it was a pretty horrible day, but only 11 days left! ~Elizabeth July 3rd Dear Journal, Since I’ve been getting here, I’ve been writing in my journal after lights out, in the dark. Yesterday, Sandra saw me and asked me what I was doing. I told her I was writing in my journal, and do you want to know what she said! “Oh, is that like a diary?”, and she practically screamed it so the whole entire cabin heard it, and probably the other two cabins next to us. I started saying, “What are you talking about, its not a diary it a JOURNAL!” That jerk Rachel started to snicker and say, “Ha, I’ll pay anyone three Charleston Chews at the camp store if they can steal it and give it to me to read.” I saw a couple of my bunkmates exchanging glances. Three Charleston Chews! You’re only allowed one candy bar at the camp store, and other than that, candy isn’t allowed! It would be impossible to get three! The counselors started to tell everyone to stop talking and go to bed, but I lay in bed all night long, thinking of good hiding places. This will be the worst two weeks of my whole life. On the bright side, only 9 days left! ~Elizabeth

July 4th Dear Journal, Happy Fourth of July! Fortunately, nobody stole you yet, but I guess the cravings for candy are high! When I got back from lunch, my trunk was open, and clothes were spilling out all over the floor near my bed. Luckily, I didn’t hide you there, and hid you under my mattress, but I think Cassie was eyeing my tonight night when I pick you up out from under it. We went sailing in class today, and I got to go in a sunfish with a senior, so for now, I am okay with my classes. The funny thing is that Poison Ivy Pam, (I think I told you about her before) actually got poison ivy! We were in the woods looking for types of trees, when she stepped in a pile of the plants that had been thrown out here from the camp paths. She is covered in tiny red bumps all the way up to her knees, and rumor has it that the counselors are debating whether to send her home or not… don’t know what’s going to happen yet, but we’ll find out soon enough! I’ve heard that tonight, we go watching the fireworks on the beach! Only 8 days left! ~Elizabeth July 5th Dear Journal, Yesterday was so hot! We went out to the back beach for the camp fire, and fireworks. All the girls sat in a big ring around the camp fire, baking in the humid sticky weather- it had to be at least 100 degrees. The camp counselors pasted on happy faces, trying not to show how miserable they were. The mosquitoes were buzzing around everyone’s faces, looking for a good spot to dive in and get a bit of fresh blood. After a moment of silence, the main camp director walked to the fire, and sighed, wiped off the sweat and the moment the first burst of colors lit up the air from across the lake, she said “Fine, fine everyone-go ahead and go swimming.” She swatted us off like flies, as everyone sprinted to the cool waves of the lake in their clothes! The fireworks lit the sky, and the sparkling boat lights twinkled from the other side of the lake, and everyone was splashing around, diving off the raft, and having a blast. It was one of the best nights of camp ever! ~Elizabeth July 8th Dear Journal, I am so excited for tomorrow! We are finally playing capture the flag, camp wide! The counselors have already started to set up the boundaries, and I’m so excited! Last year in school we played capture the flag, and, not to brag or anything, but I totally won! (If individual people could win…) It looks so cool and I can’t wait! I don’t know if I can sleep at all tonight! I just can’t wait!

~Elizabeth July 9th Dear Journal, Today was the absolute best day ever! Here is how it went-

So today went on as normal, all the way until capture the flag. Finally after dinner, everyone gathered into the camp lodge so we could get split into teams. I was luckily put onto the green team with Jackie. Then they picked two people from the teams to hide the two flags-ours green, theirs yellow. It was Jackie and the other girl from my cabin, Rachel. (The mean one.) When they both left the hall, while the rest of the camp had team chants, seeing who could scream the loudest. Jackie returned first, and Rachel came ten minutes later, for some reason,

the tips of her hair wet. The counselors lined us up at the door, and we all marched our way on to the “battle” field. Our side broke into smaller squads of attack. Sara, Mackenzie, Clare and I were picked as squad A1. We and Squad A2 were in charge of capturing the flag, after squad B1 and B2 found it. When the camp director made a loud sound from her air siren, the game began! While we waited for squad B1 and 2 to find the flag, we broke off and patrolled the boundaries,

tagging everyone who made it through, and marching them off to jail. We were on the hot trail of a first year camper when Sam, the B2 captain came running back from the enemies side. “The flag”, she panted, “Rachel put it on the raft!”

“Oh my gosh!” Mackenzie was the first to react to the news. “Can they even do that? Let’s tell Toni!” Mackenzie said.

“No way!” Sam said.” That’ll make us look weak. You guys have to go in for it!” My face turned bright red. “You guys can go ahead. Sam, you can take my place. I think I’m

getting, uhh, good at patrolling our side. You can go help get the flag.” I stuttered to find a good excuse. I was not going to drown myself and make a fool of myself in front of the whole entire camp trying to get a dumb flag. Not happening!

“Sorry, Elizabeth, but you are in squad A1. Squad A1 doesn’t break up. Squad A1 doesn’t trade players. Squad A1 doesn’t give in!” Sam said in a dignified voice, looking off into the distance toward the water.

“Great pep-talk General Washington, come on, Liz, let’s go.” I had planted my feet into the pine needles as Clare started dragging me to the boundary. The

team was already standing three feet away from it, brainstorming the battle plans. “Come on, Elizabeth, we need you. You’re the fastest out of all of us. We won’t even be able to get to the water front without you!”

This was going to be the first time I would confess my bad case of Hydrophobia. I looked at Clare. Level 5 Clare. Clare who was on the swim team Clare. Clare who was in the shark swim level when I was in minnows. She wasn’t going to understand at all.

“Well, you see, I-.” I was interrupted as Mackenzie returned with both squad A1 and A2. “All righty troops. We have found the location of the Old Glory of camp. It is located about fifty

feet from the coast land at about latitude-.” Gabby started to announce. “Dumb it down Gab.” Lilly said. “Okay. The flag is on the raft, and we have got to get it, right? Is that better, Lilly?” Gabby asked

sarcastically. Lilly rolled her eyes. “Anyway, here is the plan. Elizabeth, you-.” “I’m sorry guys, but I can’t go across.” I said. “What?!” They all chorused. “But you’re the main person in our plan!” Sara shrieked.” And we are not re-doing it.” “I am kinda deathly afraid of the water guys, and I am not stepping foot off of good old land

unless it’s a life or death situation. You can ask Sam to take my place if you want, but I really can’t go. Sorry.” I said. All eyes were on me.

“That’s fine.” Gabby said shrugging it all off, “You can just trade places with Clare so you don’t have to go near the water. You can be the distraction.” Then she proceeded to explain the plan.

Now here is the part where it starts getting pretty intense. Gabby took way too long to explain

the plan (using her big words again) so I’m gonna write the main ideas.

Teammates- A1 A2 - Clare (flag retriever) -Lilly (distraction 1) - Sara (backup) -Gabby (distraction 1) -Mackenzie (runner /wood guide) -Jackie (distraction 2)

-Me (distraction 3) -Heather (Jail guarder) First, Lilly and Gabby pretend to discuss plans. Whispering near the boundary, little bit right

from where we are, behind the big tree, just out of site. On the count of three, they will whisper loudly, “one, two, and three, go!” they will run through, distracting the taggers so that the rest of us can slip into the woods. When Lilly and Gabby get tagged, Heather and the B1 group will be waiting to get them out. Then, its Mackenzie has to guide us through the woods, until we get to the edge. There are less people here because its far from the boundary line, but just in case, Jackie and Mackenzie, if necessary, will be ready to run as our distraction two if needed. We will jump from cabin to cabin, until we reach the counselor cabin. All the remaining teammates that we have will run out to distract anyone who is guarding, and occupy the enemies there by making them take them to the jail. This will leave just me, and Clare. I will peak out to see any remaining guards, and if there are, will act as the distraction so Clare can jump into the water and swim to get the flag. Then, if we even get this far, we will hide the flag inside of Clare’s shirt, and she will pretend to be taking me as prisoner. She will take me to jail, put me with the rest of the prisoners, just to convince the other side of her loyalty, and she will slowly walk in the direction of the boundary, pretending to look for “enemies”. Then, when she gets close enough or someone notices that she is an imposter, she’ll take off, and run for her life towards the home country. But- yes I know there is always a down side to a plan-if Heather happens to spot us, we are so dead.

The first part of the plan worked. Lilly and Gabby both successfully distracted the border guards,

and we slipped into the woods unnoticed. This unfortunately, is where things started to get a little out of hand. It wasn’t as simple as we had thought to get around in the woods without a path, but we eventually made it to the place across from the cabin section near the water front. Unfortunately, Heather had thought of traveling through the woods, and had posted her little minions along the boundaries. Unfortunately, we had been a little too loud approaching the cabins, so we stirred up a hornets nest, and they were all rushing around, squinting through the trees. We all crouched behind a tree just in time before a big burley girl pushed aside a bunch pine branches. It was time to activate our extra distraction, Jackie. We all gave her our few words of encouragement, and she charged out of the woods screaming, sending the bees chasing her down the hillside.

“Boy, she is so dead.” Mackenzie remarked. We all nodded. Time for the final section of our plan. It was Mackenzie’s turn to sacrifice herself. She cautiously broke out of the underbrush, and walked toward the counselor cabin. She was safe behind it, as planned, and she beckoned us to fallow. When we all finally made it, Mackenzie and Sara both peeked out from the edge of the cabin. We watched her eyes go round.

“What’s going on?” Clare said nervously. “Nobody is there, it’s like they’re planning some kind of surprise attack or something.” She said.

“And I don’t like to looks of it.” We all glanced around at each other, searching for a solution. I was the first to speak up.

“Guys, it’s not like the end of the world if we get tagged. Let’s just continue the plan how it is. Sara and Mack will probably set off the surprise attack or whatever when they go running out there. Why don’t we just try it?” I said. Every one nodded, and Sara and Mackenzie inched their way toward the water front.

Rachel stepped out from behind a tree.

Clare and I gasped. This was the end. She knew we’d be there. She’d send her troops to capture us, and the flag would never be won. We’d lose. A couple frightened first year campers were pushed from the trees by some invisible arms, and they grabbed Mackenzie and Sara from behind the back. Rachel beckoned into the trees, and a second later about ten other campers came out, grinning menacingly about their lucky capture of what they thought was all of team A1 and A2, little did they know who was crouching in the dirt behind the counselor cabin. The first years started marching their captives to the jail, the rest of Rachel’s army fallowing closely behind, singing some boisterous camp victory song.

This is when we heard the twig snap. It took us a minute to register what it meant, before we realized someone was coming. I ran around the other side of the cabin, while Clare tried to run back up into the woods. Unfortunately, Clare wasn’t fast enough. A girl from cabin seven saw the green flash of her sweat shirt, and raced into the woods after her. I heard the tell-tale sound of Clare’s squeal, and a crush of branches as the girl strode out of the forest, Clare’s right hand twisted painfully behind her own back.

The plan hadn’t worked. I was the only one left. And I was not going for the flag, as I said before, if it wasn’t a life or death situation, but was this a life or death situation? It was. Everyone was captured. If this didn’t work our team would meet death. I thought of Gabby’s face if I had told her that I gave up. She would hate me forever. Everyone would. I thought of Gabby’s face when I returned to my side, holding up the flag victoriously. She would admire me. Rachel would be jealous of me, Jackie would call me brave. I had to do this, I had to try. The coast was still clear. Everyone had given up guarding this part of the woods because they thought they’d caught everyone. Well they had forgotten one person- me.

I skirted the edge of the woods cautiously, turning my head left to right, searching for any un-wanted guards, but I saw none. I slipped off my shoes, socks and sweat shirt, and slipped a life jacket around my waist- just in case. I took my first step onto the dock. I froze. My body had gone taut with fear. I couldn’t take another step, but I had to. One foot after the other I made it to the end of the dock, and saw my first glance at the yellow flag, tied to the rafts ladder. I lowered myself down the docks ladder into the cool water. I looked down, through the water. I couldn’t reach here, it wasn’t like the three feet of water that I swam in during lessons, and this was deep, deep-deep. I made sure the rope was tied tightly around my waist, and let go of the dock post. I shuddered. If I drowned here, I wouldn’t be found until my nature class went scuba diving here and saw my dead skeleton, wafting in the waves. I went over the motions they taught me in swim class- kick, paddle, paddle, paddle. Kick, paddle, paddle, paddle. My clothes started weighing me down. The sweater I decided to wear this morning was pulling me down. I gasped as I grabbed hold of my life vest. My head went under. I re-surfaced, coughing and gagging, but still going through the motions, kick, paddle, paddle, paddle, kick. The raft was three feet away I reached out and grabbed the yellow flag. I quickly fumbled with the knot, and pulled it free. I brought out my yellow sock I had brought will me, and tied it there in place, so no one would have any idea it was gone, until I was at my own side, holding it high above my head. I stuffed the flag up my shirt for safe keeping, and made my way back to the dock. There were no signs of the enemy just yet, but I still had ways to go. I made it back quicker than before, paddling so hard I must have looked like a maniac from shore. I pulled myself onto the dock, taking a second to catch my breath, and sprinted to dry land. I stuffed my remaining sock onto my foot so I wouldn’t get blisters when I ran, shoved my warm sweatshirt over my shirt that was plastered to my chest, and took off the life vest.

During this time, I had decided to return back to the woods, this time in front of the cabins, recue Clare and everyone else out of jail, and have them help me get back to our side. I could never do it alone. I ran into the woods, staying on the side where I could see the water so I wouldn’t get lost, and started running toward the flag pole, also known as jail. The water was sloshing around in my tennis shoes, and I was sending off a spray of water each stride. I just couldn’t move fast enough. I was thinking in my head the whole time how I’d managed to get the flag in the first place, but now I wasn’t as scared

as before. I finally saw the second dock that stood in front of the flag. I walked to the other side of the woods, and peeked out. The small group of first years and the rest of the guards who had captured Mackenzie and Sara were sitting around talking in small groups. I had to distract them. I walked quietly back a few steps, and screamed, “Hurry! There is a huge group of green people stampeding the water front.” It was far enough to take them away for five minutes. I walked back and saw the groups break up, and Rachel starting to lead them toward the water front, at a full run. I jumped out from the trees, and ran toward the now abandoned jail.

“Oh my gosh! Elizabeth! What are you doing? How did you not get caught?!” Sara shrieked. Clare grinned at me, “Did you end up getting it?” “Yup!” “Oh my gosh! Set us free! We need to get back to the other side!” Gabby said. I untagged them

all with a high five, and we went back into the woods. “How did you get it?” Jackie asked. “Shhhh, you guys. We haven’t won yet!” Gabby hissed. She led us to the lodge, and saw our

teammates, bust running around; grabbing any kids they could see. They need help badly. Just one final sprint and we’d win. This was when we heard the loud shriek from behind us. It was Rachel, holding up a dripping sock.

“Its them, they have the flag! Grab them!” she shouted. My teammates apparently heard her, too, because in one second, one third of our team had ran across the boundary, and were charging Rachel’s team, trying to distract them so we could make it to the other side.

“Where did the sock come from, Elizabeth?” Lilly said casually, and we sprinted to victory. Now that I think about it, it probably was a pretty ridiculous idea to leave a sock, but as Gabby

said, it added character to my robbery. When the camp director found out I swam in the deep water without a life guard, she got fuming mad, and now I have to get up ten minutes earlier than before, to set all of the tables for breakfast. Although this sounds painful, it was all worth it. Rachel barely spends anytime in the cabin, mostly hanging out with her teammates, which makes the cabin this much more enjoyable. I have millions of new friends, the people from A1 and A2, as well as Sam and a couple other people from group B1. Swimming class is tons of fun now that I actually get into the water, and I’m getting better at sailing because I don’t try and avoid going fast because of my fear of tipping.

Now I guess I have to add a few things to make Mom happy, because this journal is for her basically. (Although it isn’t that bad...)

The second I get off of the boat that takes me to main land: Mom: Oh Elizabeth! I missed you so much! How was camp? Me: It was fine, Mother Darling. Mom: What did you learn, sweetheart? Me: (This will make her really happy) I learned not to avoid something you think you don’t like,

until you try it. I also learned that teamwork is very important in life, Mother dearest. Mom: Oh, Elizabeth! You have learned so much! Let’s go out to ice cream on the way home! (I

hope...) Me: Thank you, My Beloved Mother. I am going to miss my friends here a lot after I leave, but I don’t have to worry about that just

yet, because thankfully I still have four days left! ~ Elizabeth

P.S. My sneakers are still wet

Summer

by Amaya Adetiba

Summer is when you go out to play

And winter is when you come in to stay

But we are not talking about winter today

We are talking about summer in a very fun way

Summer is when you don’t have school

And math completely does not rule

Seeing friends to and fro

Saying goodbye without letting them know

You’ll see them in a year or so

So tell your friends that still don't know

That you'll be there to see them grow

In return you shall ask

That your close friendship last.