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Dalat High School Literary Magazine 2011-2012
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Copyright 2012 ACAPSTIAM
A Dalat International School Publication
Contact us at [email protected]
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The ACAPSTIAM Team
Jacqueline Ashkin
Editor-in-Chief
Sam Yeo
Jim Choi
Heads of Short Stories
Ji Hoon Mun
Shawn Kim
Heads of Poetry
River Tabor
Art Manager
Joseph Kim
Chan Hee Park
Heads of Advertisement
David Stengele
Teacher Advisor
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Acknowledgements
A huge thank you to all who contributed the literary
magazine!
Thank you to the members of ACAPSTIAM who were
with us first semester Sarah Uzzle, Winnie Tan, BenUnruh, and Jordan Strong.
Also, thank you to all the students who unknowingly
contributed their artwork to this years magazine, as well as Joseph Stoltzfus, who gave us our cover art on
almost no notice.
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Table of Contents
Preface
Poetry
Short Stories
Non-Fiction
7
9
63
95
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Preface
Five very different students sat in Dalat International
Schools Room 28, united in their love for writing. As theyexcitedly reviewed each others work, they nagged theirsupervisor, Mr. David Stengele, with one simple question:
Why did Dalat not have a high school literary magazine? How
come middle school could do it and high school couldnt?
What was stopping the development of a high school literary
magazine?
All these legitimate inquiries would eventually lead
to something. At the dawn of the new school year, Mr.
Stengele announced the start of an x-block dedicated to
creating the very literary magazine that had been discussed
so many months ago.
Amalgamating a team of would-be authors,
ACAPSTIAM was thrown into development. Of course, the
literary magazine was not theACAPSTIAM we know today itdid not even have a name! Over the last school year, two
dedicated teams of students worked (very hard) to inspire
the student body and convince them to submit their work.
It is their passion for creative writing that has left us
with a magazine full of potential.ACAPSTIAM still has a long
way to go we are still only in our fledgling stages. My hope
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is that the students to come after me will also see the great
importance of creative writing in theirlives. Creative writing
is an outlet akin to none an art form with no limitations orboundaries, simply left to be molded by its maker. Our God is
a creative God; He encourages us to use the media He has
fashioned to create, inspire and express ourselves for His
glory.
These pages are the fruit of a years labor.
Without further ado, welcome toACAPSTIAM! May
you enjoy the words to follow mine.
Jacqueline Ashkin
Editor-in-Chief
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POETRY
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The Princess
Mischievous little
Pixie eyes
Peek out from beneath the
Coverlet.
Jump out,
My little butterfly friend,
A sweet little fairy until the end.
Sing your song,
Tell your tale,
Mesmerize us,
Beloved imp.
And when all is done,
When youre all through,Let that splash of gold fall across the bed,
The suns captive raysCaught by your very head.
Its glory and hue
Trapped in the golden little whimsy curls
Of my precious little whimsy girl.
Sarah Uzzle (12)
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Wending the Way
Wending the way through that Waning Glass
Living all days til the very lastThere is nothing half so wondrous nor so sweet
As a path not yet trodden nor yet beat
And living life in plainest prose
Is like a closed, un-blossomed rose
A could-have-been or would-have-beenBut uncertain just how to begin
And so it grows, but neer to thriveAnd no one knows, how much alive
It could have been or would have been
If not Ignorant just how to begin
Grasping sun and straining far
Gazing toward Heaven and brightening star
And red petals, frenzied, trembling still
And hope to strain enough until
Their curves unfurl and open wide
So that their depths might reach outsideAnd reaching so, exposed and bare
The roses beauty shines out rare
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Never would it have been so seen
If not for Inspirations gleamAnd all can see what it has been
For, knowing not how to begin
Does not halt a rose from stunning bloom
Blooming full til it finds the tombWending its way through that Waning Glass
Living always til the very last
Emma Anne Lane (12)
HateHate is like a plagueThat destroys your heart,
Taking over every good feeling
Without any healing.
But all you need to stop this infection
Is a little rain, love and correction;
Then the sun will come out for a while,
And you can go to bed with a smile.
essie Brandon (9)
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Penelope
My steps quickened.
I looked behind me and did not see
That terrible thing that sought to devour me.
The rugged floor of cobblestones teased me at every step.
My steps quickened.
My breathing grew louder; mist blew into my cold white face
An alleyway I came upon, I once again attempted to elude
my pursuer
The darkness shrouded me and I plunged into the blackness,
My steps halted.
I heard a small soft whisper, You can run but do not darehide
My blood turned to ice and coldness suffused my limbs,
I willed my feet to move but they mocked me,
Now the slow, deliberate footsteps came forward,
My steps hastened,I ran blindly into the mist, eyes blurred with the fear that
clenched my heart
In my haste I fell, tripped by the uneven ground,
Blood splattered the stone that my face discovered,
The smell of death lingered in my nostrils.
I knew I could run no longer.
My last choice was to embrace the evil that lurked in my
shadow.
I slowly turned my head to see that thing that approached.13 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
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To the Great Farfoozle
Fair!Scalooping through the florest
Sweet Slumkin skipped along
Picking up petunias
Tooting a cheerful song
She came upon a berpslpat
Which gave a shiny glare
She picked it up and played it strong
And gave the joobuggies a scare
They fluttered out of the sploof trees
And shot up to the skies
When, what do you know,
Slumpkin saw something
That caught her eye
Falumkilump was strolling along
in sock jacket and velvet tie!
Now where did you get your costume,for the Farfoozle fair?
I got it from my cousin,15 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
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The one and only, clair!
Oh! Take me to you cousin,my dear Falumkilump!
I want to get a slick suit,
To play the jelly bomb jump!
To my cousin, off we go!So you may win the game,
Youll win the goldbell flower,Along with fortune and fame!
Scalooping through the florest
The friends went skipping along
Picking up petunias
Tooting a cheerful song
To the house of old Eclaire,
The two friends finally came
They got a slick suit costume
To play the jelly bomb game
They whoozled up to the giant green hillTo finally stop and stare
At the tents and open lights below
Of the great Farfoozle Fair!
oseph Stoltzfus (9)
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Bones
They say that a dead man
tells no tales,
but they are wrong.
It is the dead man's
tales that say the
most,
his words that speak the
loudest,his life forever
immortal
-ized
by a mindless people.
Because after the
rain,
after the
storm,
after the world hasquit,
we are left with
just that,
a dead man's
tales.
Sarah Uzzle (12)
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Ode to AC-Or Lack
Thereof
The air is still, the light is gone,
The sun burns down upon the lawn,
And in the class we sit and sigh,
As we think of cooler days gone by.
Oh how I hate when the power stills,
It significantly lowers electricity bills,
But alas! In our class we slowly die.
Please, turn it on! We desperately cry
I thought when Dalat got its own power station
Wed not have the same issues as the rest of the nation,But it seems I was wrong, since alas, we are sitting,
In English, where I wrote a poem that seemed only fitting.
Brittany Hurlbut (10)
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Hide-and-Seek
Patience is an immature thing,
Always playing hide-and-seek with me.
When needed most, she flees
To her newest peeking spot.
Or is it that she knows- too well-
That I am difficult to handle?
Nevertheless, when found,
Patience is troublesome to follow,
Her rules much like those of a strict mother.
Patience does not allow me to be impetuous
With Self Control by her side.
Patience is an immature thingIn my thoughts anyway.
Hayli Mayo (9)
Baptism of ConformityThe cold water rushes over your body.
You get lost trying to find the holiness in this event
A culture betrayed
Love abandoned all to fit in.
Your books burned as heretics
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Your music deemed blasphemous
Eloquent language replaced
By TerseChoppy
Sentences
Your clothes destroyed
Ones deemed holy put on.
You rise out of the water
Baptized in the new generation
Void of life
Void of sacredness
Iconoclast Nobody (10)
Summer DaysI remember those long and happy days
Where in the summer we used to play
Then came the day when I had to let go
The clouds seemed darker than they had ever been
The birds did not sing and the sun did not shine
As I wave goodbye to you, my love
The plane lifts up into the sky and disappears into blackness
The ravens caw in laughter at me
Making my life miserable as it can be
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The days following the day you left have never been the
same
Without you, life is drearyIt was so unfair how the world was happier than me
But you were never theredid you feel the same as I?
Some days are better, some days are worse
The best times are when I think of you
When I remember those days we played in the sun
When we were together in the plum treeI knew I was dreaming and I wish I would never wake.
Joshua Weisner (9)
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Nature or Civilization
Once again
We are born
from a seed of nature
and
into the green masses
We walk
as
We attempt
To leave this rabid place
Because
Nature is amazingIs a lie
Technology is amazing.
Here we realize
Civilization
Brings a feeling of sanctity which will not be found in
Nature
Within the boundaries of
the city
We return to reason and faith without the distractions
Of the woods
But with the carefree demeanor
We must realize,
it all has to be given up
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Like birds that soar high in the sky
But when dreams fail life crashes down
Like burned buildings, theyre ashes nowMan is blind, yet man can see
His God is one, but also three
Man cannot, but man can beMan is you, and man is me
Jonathan Chandra (9)
My Beloved StalkerI know you facebook me all the time.
Liking all 1,067 of my pictures
Was not very subtle of you.
But thats ok.And I do see you every time you
Leave another love note in my locker,
But thats ok too.It was interesting to learn
The number of hairs on my headAnd my average resting heart rate per minute
Between 9 pm and 2 am on Friday nights.
Yes
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Also,
Its funny that you just
Happen to be at every movie that I seeIn the seat next to me.
With my favorite drink.
And it was so thoughtful of you to give me a present for my
birthdayYou knowThe life sized cardboard cutout of
Yourself in your usual gothic attire?
And I couldnt help but notice
That you redecorated your locker
With pictures of me.
And the shirt you wore to our lock-inThe one with my face and 2getha 4eva on it Was out of this worldBut my mom does wonder why Immarried to you on facebook.She claims I tell her nothingNow, I dont want to sound ungratefulFor that iPad you got me for Christmas,
But I just have one last request
Please sign this restraining order!
Jackie Ashkin (10) and Sarah Uzzle (12)
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Dance
Hear the beat, feel the beat,
That is how you dance,
Dancers breaking, DJs spinning.
Stepping and tripping,
Freezing and ripping,
Match the beat you dance.
Audiences screaming,
Fans booing,
Hip Hop winning - breakdance beat it.
Posing and remixingTake it down, you got this.
Hear the beat, feel the beat,
That is how you dance.
David Beak (9)
udgementHow can you miss something
You never really had?
I dont know how,
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But I do know that its possible.
Why?
Because I feel it now.
I dont want this life.I dont want this place.
I cant move,I cant breathe
In this box.
Im sure this is not whatLife is about.
Ive heard stories, actually.
Space.
Food.
Shelter.
Love.
Abstract concepts
To one such as myself.
You treat me like Im stupid.You treat me with
Fear,
Anger,
Disrespect.
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You treat me like you treat
Everyone else.
And yet you wonder
At your state in life.
I am not surprised,
Let me tell you this.
All the money in the world
It wont save you.It cant.
So leave.
Leave while you still can.
ackie Ashkin (10)
Taste of LifeHis life is a cup of caramel macchiato
Sweet but somehow the bitterness annoys him.
Her life is like a medicine pillBitter but somehow heals her body.
Our life is a bland cup of coffee
We try to make it as sweet as possible.
Eun Hyo Chang (10)
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The Survival Game
Level one.
Master
the secret words
of the Karate mouth.
Level two.
Master
the magical instrument
that lures
the enemy
away.
Level three.
Master
the formulas
which
wields the world.
Level four.
Dodgethe monstrous looking
vege-man
and the hard stone rice
he throws.
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Level five.
Meditate in silence
till you getthe message
from the Boss
in time
in a box.
Level six.
Solve
the mystery
of the evil drug
by classifying compounds and properties.
Level seven.
Escape
the dangerous and popping
papers
that you will be
tortured with
when you get one.
Level eight.
Masterall the ancient tongues
that were once
forgotten
for a long time.
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Softly falling (softly-softly)
It means that winter is upon us-
Hear the.. (Ding Dong!) ..and children.. (Yay!)
..Sleigh bells.. ..calling!
As they celebrate the day ofChristmas
.. In
There is a SPARK of winter..The
(But the cold cant get to us)Air.
And its cozy in our homes-(Hear the fire roar!)
..
Ive oftenmarveled to see-
How much Joy this season brings!
If the world lived in unity?
Lucia Combrink (9)
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Someone to Trust
If you have someone to love you,
then who will be against you?
If you have someone to rely on,
then who will deny you?
If you have someone to trust,
then it must, be true.
If you have someone to lean on,
then whats to be afraid of the devils deadly duel?
Gods love is gold, never does it rust
God makes himself present, like the jewels and the
gifts.
Obey him, honor him, respect him, we must,
for Gods presence and love are everlasting.
Claudia Droegsler (9)
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Bacon
The farmers raise the pigs from birth
Then go to the smokehouse and take 'em
The pigs break out and take control
And turn farmers into bacon
Kimberly Horton
HomeHumid air and palm trees,
Cold-breath clouds and evergreens,
Homes in different places,
Still with the same things.
My sister sings in an off-key tune,
Mother looks out the window and watches the moon,
Father is reading his favorite book,
Mewell, I'm hiding; you'll have to look.
A houseit can be bought or sold,But a home is a place that no matter how old,
Or quirky or silly or falling apart,
Is just a dear place that you hold in your heart.
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Kimberly Horton
EdwardSparkling mascara dripping down your face,
Your Sparkle body wash is a disgrace;
Youre driving Bella to the mines,When you wear lipstick that really shines.
Edward, would you give it up,
And stop trying to sparkle with girls make up?Kimberly Horton
udging The World
Band geeks
Nerd Freaks
Popular and Rude
Boy-chasers
World-hatersADHD too
There are so many biases
and stereotypes amiss
Why can't we all be one big group
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called "People who Exist?"
Kimberly Horton
EmmaEmma, Emma, Im in a dilemmaYou seem so young and pretty in the cinema
But you turned out to be one grumpy grandma
Emma, Emma, youre like the big bad wolfSo I guess you can meet me on the roof
You huff and puff till my heart falls down
I tried to resist but you seem to insist
Come and take me away on your quid ditch
Even though I know you are a witch
But its okay, I can switchUntil then I hope you say goodbye to Mitch
Cast a spell, set everything free
Take my hand and come with me
As I promise, this is the night you will want to see
So probably I will take you to the sea
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Life is a bitter play, the Wind whispered,Two ActsHello and Goodbye!
No! The boy cried. Not so!As if, by saying thus, it could not be.
Without reply the wind whirled away.
And the boy was young and believed himself,
But the years peeled past and petals wilted;
And Time, the fleeting shadow, crept upon him
Until he was no longer a boy--Instead, a man with a pretty wife
Three boys of his own
--And then, a girl
A girl who cried only once,
A thin, wistful wail which seemed to say
Two ActsHello and Goodbye.
They buried her under the willow tree
In white, spidery lace and a chain to match
Her golden curls;
More years fell to the waiting dust and gathered
Around the grave of little fragile Ruth
And every now and again,
The boy-turned-man heard a ghostly laughWhich seemed to goadTwo ActsHello and Goodbye.
One by one he watched them die,
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His three boys-turned-men:
The first, brave and strong,
Became the froth of sea foam after a shipwreck;The middle, fierce and cold,
Fell by the swift stroke of a sword;
And the third, weak and tender,
Dwindled as a stream trickles into a brook
Slow and long and painful,
Wheezing gently until his last breath which said,
Two ActsHello and Goodbye.
The boy-turned-old-man
Tried to ignore it, to forget it
And for a while he did, pretending memories were
As patterns of embroidery: insubstantial, ephemeral
Until his lovely wife
Small and dark and smilingCaught a clutching fever
That raged for days with the fury
Of the West Wind.
She struggled and wept for
The boy-turned-old-man stayed strangely silent
As she tossed and turned under the spectator moon.
In the end the fever tore the sweet life from her lips
Echoing, cackling, Two ActsHello and Goodbye.
An old man went wandering through a velvet wood
And there, reacquainted himself with the West Wind.
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My old friend, said the Wind with a breezy grin;Or foe, answered the old man.
He sat and thought as the Wind tormented him,Always alwaysTwo ActsHello and Goodbye!No! the old man cried, Not so!And by saying thus he knew it had not been.
Oh? arched the wind with a dry cough, indeed?They parted ways, enemies; for the West Wind does not
know love
Nor does the old man know the ways of the Wind.
Two Acts, it whispers still, Hello and Goodbye
The old man does not listen,
For he knows that it is not so.
Emma Anne Lane (12)
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ust How Much Does
He Care?
When you wake in the morning,
Do you know why its so adorning?
How the colors of the earth,
Was first given birth,
Do you remember Gods grace,
And how our lives were laced,
With continued blessings,
And surprising happenings?
It was God, who put us together,
Including space, light and the weather,
The only one who never forgets,
When we do wrong He never regrets,
Before you and I were even born,
He snuck U in the name of his son,
Hed like to know what you would do today,
If you would just take the time to pray.Jamie Ooi (9)
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Our Nature
Till death we live,
This life we strive,
And in life we find
That peace and love
Do not abide.
We are blind and will not cease
To make our war on peace.
Give others pains,
All for our own gain,
Hatred and greed rule.
We are truly cruel.
Is all hope lost?
When we ignore the cross,
Only by the greatest sacrifice
May we gain perfect life.
Matthew Shafer (9)
Rapture from the Raven
I gazed at the ominous bust,
Now overshadowed with the dark form of the Raven above
the door.
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Yet, fear not, for with the Grace of my Master, I come to
restore.
Now understanding the profound word of this radiant bird,
I remembered the Word I had always chosen to ignore;
I realized my hope had come whilst my heart became numb.
Yet I knew the shadow of the Raven must go before
I could be free of the emptiness I would no longer endure.
Casting my eyes upward to the Bringer of Peace,
I begged of Him to remove the dark bird I did deplore.
With a fearsome spreading of its wings, the dove put the
Raven to flight.
As the carrion devil fled my abode, I felt my spirit soar.
And now I am safe, said I. Then came the refrain,Forevermore.
Joel Shafer
The Chains of Darkness
The chains held me back,Weight of them heavy on my wrists.
I can hear the screams of others behind me.
I slowly weaken,
But I cannot give up now.
I can see the light near,
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But yet so far away.
I struggle to break free from these chains
That are holding me back from freedom,Freedom that I long for.
The sound of a whip comes from behind,
Unexpected pain came quick.
I yelled out in pain!
It feels of a thousand nails pounding into my body, into my
soul.
It was too much.
I fell
Into darkness.
Not knowing when or what my body will hit.
It felt as if I would never land,
A darkness without end.
Hard, cold, sharp rocks suddenly came
Hitting them hard,
Pain swallows my body up like water.
I feel a dark, heavy, shadow lay upon me,
But yet nothing was there.
The light in front starts to fade.
I feel as if I cannot make it.
Then darkness envelops me.
Consuming everything I am,
Making me something I'm not.
The pressure becomes too much
I slowly begin to die.
A cold, long, lonely death.
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I hear death, sorrow, guilt, shame ringing in my ears.
I wished it would go away!
I call out for freedom,For salvation,
For a savior!
But nothing,
Just pain.
Tears envelop my eyes.
I feel alone,
I dont know what to do.Suddenly silence.
The screams fade,
My tears become dry,
I feel peace.
The light ahead becomes brighter.
I see a man standing.
Not a man in darkness,
But a man who is golden.
A brighter gold then anything I have seen before.
I suddenly feel the strength I need,
The strength to break free of the chains.
I stand up,
Ignoring the pain
I run to the light.
I run to the man,
The man who is golden.
I run harder than I have before,
He embraces me with open arms.
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His arms surround me,
Making me warm.
I wished to never let go,To stay in that embrace of love.
I felt safe.
Worried that I would fall back into darkness,
I look back.
To my relief, the darkness slowly disappears.
Then I look at the man,
The tall, golden man.
He smiled,
A smile that filled me with a warm happiness.
I then took the hand he held out and looked ahead,
To the light
And he led me to safety.
Away from the darkness that I don't need to fear anymore,
For I have Him
Katie Stevens (12)
Winners Glory
Beep! Beep!
The whistle blows
The crowd explodes
For victory is the final rose.
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All blood sweat tears
have been for cheers
Leaving without any fear.
A medal is placed across the neck
In memory of their splendid success -
And forever they remember
That they were a team member
Of that winning team, in that December.
The noise has ceased
All from the west to eat
A big celebration of a fattening feast.
Must they never forget,
That they all played their bestAnd until next year, theyll be a threat.
Juliet Suen (9)
Shouts of SilenceHush, hark! The larks sing
The rhythm of the wind chimes ring
The patter of soft paws run
The whisper of autumn beneath the sun
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Hear! The splashing of water
The children laughing and girls chatter
The song of joyful praise
And the hymn of thankful days
But many a time, life consists
Not of cheerful craze or glorious feasts
Often we race through the whirlwind of life
Oblivious to the worlds crying strife
Hush, listen to the wailing babe
She hasn't had a meal for days
The man shedding tears ruined by his loved one
The woman in rags cradling her dead son
Sometimes all it takes is just an ear
To listen to a heartcry's deepest tear
To step down from the hype of the crowned
And to share the burden of one sad frown
So open my ears to the things unheard
That I may be a blessing to those sufferedFor if I may save a life by care sincere
Then my life would be worthwhile here
Charissa Tan (12)
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Strangers, Again
Once lost in a multitude of unfamiliar faces,
Strangers, walking at disconnected paces,
Now bonded together, running in harmony,
To love and be loved, so unconditionally.
Half of my heart wants to leave the nest,
Explore every corner, from the east to the west,
Leave the past, the mistakes, the scars,
Start over again, with a clear sky of stars.
To run the diving board like one without care,
Spreading your wings, ready to trust the air,
Often it takes the risk of suffocating defeat
To remember the taste of air, in your lungs so sweet.
The other half of my heart fears of leaving behind
Relationships built and memories entwined,
Mistakes forgiven and scars healed,
Love expressed and closed hearts unsealed.
But as spring flowers bud and autumn leaves fall
There always comes a time to bid farewell,
As an aged breathes his last, a new life will be borne,
As the night passes, soon will come the break of dawn.
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Theres always this great interchange of state
To try new things, to let go of the old estate,
But the constellations of the sky will stay the same,
So too, my heart, with you will remain.
Amidst the crowded multitude years past,
If paths cross and I see your face, at last,
I pray to find our friendship retained,
And us not strangers, once again.
Charissa Tan (12)
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Inspiration
For a spell
I had no inspiration ...
Not the sun, that brought every morning,
Not the stars, that twinkle every clear night,
Not the questions of life,Nor the answers through time...
Not the dispute of religion,
Not even the beauty of nature,
Not so much as light of day,
Or the darkness of night...
The battle between good and evil,
Was not enough
Not the victory already had,
Nor the glory to come...
I had no inspiration...
. . . Then I thought of you . . .
Ben Unruh (12)
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Addiction
Stand on the edge
Of a paper-cut,
The crevice of a books jaggedLeaf
Which slid too quickly
Across the memory,
Forever leaving a scar,A reminder of the feeling
Of that fleeting inspiration
That swiftly moves on.
It crackles,
Loudly,
Vexing the senses,
Maddening the sanity
Like the stiff,
Dry-bone leaves of Winter and
Fall,
Trampled beneath the feet
Of a writer,
A dreamer,
A lyric-tamer,
Who thinks of nothing but
The paper-cutThe paper-cut,
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The paper-cut of the mind,
That aching,
Biting,Gnawing longing
To pick up a quill or pen
And bleed ink
Across the
Page.
Sarah Uzzle (12)
That Single TearStanding oer herWatching feelings turn her
Waywardgoing towards,
Broken beaten pathsFar, O far from him
Standing streaming sorrow
Draining dry the empty eye
Lost the glue that held them to
Breathing broken borrowed breaths
Lost his path, lost in wrath
Falling through, lost anew
What to do, for him whose heart
Beats, beats like a crystal chandelier
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Crashing to the ground, so far below
Into a billion trillion tiny stars
Each and all, shedding a single tear
Ben Unruh (12)
Dr. Jekyll and Mr.
HydeDr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,
Human nature does not suffice,
The two innate sides that breathe,
One contained and one maintained.
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,
Have you met your other side?
One kills, jeers, and interferes,
One smiles, laughs, and reconciles.
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,
Who are you tonight?
ennifer Yook (9)
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Passing Through
Just passing through,
meandering along,
trudging down
the wearisome path
that stretches before
the bare feet.
Does the well-beaten
sandflutter out
of the seconds,
the minutes,
the hours of
countless days,
only here to make the
hourglass
turn?
Is it stone,un-moving and
stubborn to the last,
a tree with
deep, dark
roots in the
ground.
Perhaps only
those who have
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already walked
their life's
roadcan say.
But the living
can't fathom
what the dead
have seen,
for the departed
never speak of their
travels.
Sarah Uzzle (12)
Piano StringThe treble of a piano stringsTension,
Slowly stretching
Out,
Unwinding strand
By strand
By
Strand.
Let it snap,
Break,
Thunder to the
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Ground,
A crashing cacophony
Against our ears.The broken music,
Once called a dream,
Cast away,
Into the night,
Thrown off the ledge
Of a Song.
Sarah Uzzle (12)
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A Death in the Family
The sharp backhanded slap spun me around and sent me
stumbling back into the wall, cracking my head painfully. I
scrambled away, back from my father. His face was red and I
knew for a fact he was drunk right now, why else would a
dad slap his sixteen year old daughter? My cheek burned red
and throbbed painfully as I scuttled away from him.
William! Mom called from the other side of the room asshe crossed her arms. She held her head high and her back
was stiff but I could see she was trembling. Run she mouthed
to me as my father turned on her like an angry bull. And I ran
straight for the door and down the steps.
I nearly crashed into Nate on my way out but just managedto avoid him and skid to a halt. He caught me around the
shoulders looking worried. All it took was one word to make
his hazel eyes go wide, Dad.
He nodded and gave me a little shove to keep running and
headed towards the house with a determined look on his
calm face. I was no coward but I knew better than to stick
around for this. I just kept running out into the forest.
I tripped over a branch and went down, landing on my
elbows. I sat up slowly, cheek pounding and examined my
elbows. They were scraped up but not bleeding, and my
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cheek I'll bet has a bright red mark. I could feel a little bit of
blood where some skin had been torn away too.
I bit my lip and blinked back tears, I was a big girl now and
didn't have to cry. Instead I stood up and changed directions
and kept moving steadily through the forest ignoring my
throbbing cheek and scraped elbows.
The sound of chopping grew louder the further I went. James
would be working today and so that was where I headed. I
skirted around the peacekeepers suppressing an involuntary
shudder and flitted through the trees.
I spotted James and paused, leaning against a tree to watch
him at work, a tiny sliver of a smile on my lips. I still thought
he was the most handsome person ever. He had his grey eyes
shaded because of the wood chips that skittered off
everywhere with each swing. I'm a little ashamed to admit
how much I liked watching him work, but I'm only human.
"James?" I called softly as a more violent throb brought me
back to the present. He paused and glanced towards where I
was with an odd look on his face. He wouldn't be able to see
me and my call had been soft, it would have been hard to
hear over the sound of chopping.
"Carie?" He asked curiously, cocking his head a little bit.
I cleared my throat and spoke up after swallowing hard "Ya,
over here."
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James set his ax down and walked over to me with a curious
expression.
"Hey what's up?" he asked with a small smile.
"I just need a little company for a bit." I replied softly trying
to keep my usual upbeat tone. James saw through my
pathetic attempt at a chipper tone easily, of course.
"Come on Carie, what's wrong?" He asked with a little sigh
putting an arm around my shoulders to take us into the
woods away from the other people. He'd probably get into
trouble for leaving his job right now but I really needed
someone to be with for a little bit.
I sniffed slightly and instead of answering I stopped and
placed his hand against my cheek so he could feel the blood
and the throbbing.
"Who did this?" he asked, voice hard though his calloused
palm against my cheek was gentle.
"I fell..." I muttered softly. It was my normal excuse for
these occurrences though I'm sure James saw through them
but my pride kept me from saying what was really going on.
That and I know deep down, somehow I still loved my father.I remembered when he used to be there for me and we'd
had fun together. I remember those days and try hope he'll
change someday...
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James just nodded instead of pushing me for an answer.
We'd gotten into a few fights over this before but I always
refused to tell no matter what he said. Finally he'd given upon it and I was grateful for that. James just pulled me into a
hug as I pressed my hands against me face, screwing my eyes
up to keep back the tears. I still hate crying, I always have.
But my shoulders shook a little bit with the emotion. I'd
already cried over my dad to many times, and I wasn't going
to right now. I just stayed in James' embrace enjoying the
warmth from his body heat till I relaxed again and pulled
away with a sad smile.
"Thanks." I murmured to him softly wishing I could have just
stayed wrapped up like that but as I was constantly
reminding myself we were best friends and nothing more.
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him to see the wreckage I was sure lay just through the door
frame.
"No I'm staying with you Carie." he replied stubbornly.
"Go back James. You can't stay." I replied in a more confident
voice giving him a gentle shove in the other direction. He
took a step back but still looked reluctant to leave so I
pushed him again a little harder this time though still very
gentle. "Leave."
He frowned at me and turned on his heel and left, back stiff.
I'm sure I upset James but I didn't want him to know what
was going on, my pride kept me from it. That's really all I
have left in the world right now and I'm determined to keep
it intact.
As soon as he was around the corner I tore up the steps andthrough the door only to stop open-mouthed in the middle of
our small living room. Everything was a mess, things were
splintered and broken, it looked like a feather pillow had
ripped open and the white feathers were everywhere. In the
center of the room was a body covered by a white sheet and
my twin kneeling next to it.
My lower lip trembled as I walked slowly to where my twin knelt and stopped staring at the bright white sheet. Nate
looked up at me and I could see his face was glistening with
tears, but it was bruised as well and there was a cut on his
forehead. He was in far worse shape than I was.
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"He killed her." Nate whispered standing up shakily. His voice
turned hard and hateful. "He killed mom."
I was numb with shock and horror at the raw feeling that
ripped through my chest. Mom was dead! She was gone from
this life. It didn't seem like it could be real at all. Mom
couldn't be dead. She just couldn't. The raw pain sent my
body into trembled and tears spilled down my cheek as I
shook my head with disbelief.
"No." I whispered quietly stepping into my twin's
outstretched arms. Mom was dead, but what hurt the worst
was that dad had killed her. I sobbed into my twin's shoulder
hugging him tight. Nate was all the family I had left now, my
father I would disown. He meant nothing to me now. All
those fun times could never override what he had just done,
they couldn't cover it up. The small amount of good could
never be enough to cover over all the bad things he did.
It would just be me and Nate now, and we would survive on
our own! We would make and I knew James would be there
to help us out whenever we needed it. I was determined not
to waste what my mom had given Nate and I. We would go
on but I can guarantee we would never be the same.
Anonymous
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Monoculture
Trees cant feel! I hear you cry. So you grab a trunk and startto climb. Or you take a chainsaw to my side. You dont care ifI fall over, or if you step on me. Im just an inanimate objectto you, nothing more. I am no good to you if I do not bear
fruit, or if I cannot make rubber. I am no good to you if I am
in the way of some construction. Navethat is what people
are. Not realizing that by ridding themselves of me, replacingme with more ofthem, they arent really helping anybody.But money speaks louder than trees. And so Im left here inmy silence.
Its a hard life in this neck of the woods, being treated theway I am. Theres so little left anymore many have beenforced into the dreaded palm plantations including myself. Iknow Im not welcome to wander here, but I have no choice.You did not give me one. You simply burnt down my only
home in favor ofthis. This nothingness, row after row of
palms. An ugly plant, really. But its worth more to you thananything I could do, anything I could be. Im not shy. Im justwary of what I know is my own death.
Everyone fears me. I do not understand. I cannot help what Iam that I have dark scales and unblinking eyes. That I amvenomous. I never asked for this life; I just took what I was
given, and now I have to make the best of it. Forever, I am to
be judged based on what I am, not who I am. You may not
know it when you are wandering through this sterile forest,but I can hear you. And I understand every word you say. So
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hypocritical, you humans are. You complain of being judged
by race or age or religion, but you are not afraid to judge me.
Why is that? Are you so ignorant in your terror? I reallyshould just go by the book, do everything the way you say I
do; get you out of this place that was never really yours to
begin with.
Valued. But never for who you are. Always for what you
have. To anybody else what I have is a useless piece of
cartilage, but to a human, it is worth more than gold.
Ridiculous; absolutely insane. And you call yourselves thesmartest creatures to ever grace the earth with your
presence. I used to have so many kin, thousands upon
thousands! Now, I am lucky if I see one of my kind. But
everywhere I look, I see traces of you. Footprints here, traps
there. I am more careful than most, but that does not mean I
am invincible. One of these days, I will fall for one of your
clever traps, and I will die. Maybe, when I am dead, and allthe kind is gone, you will be sorry. Maybebut I doubt it.
Im sorry Im an inconvenience to you. I didnt realize thatliving wasnt a priority in your book. I kill so I can survive. You kill because it is fun. There is a vast difference. But you are
stupid in your killing; you enjoy it far too much. You overlook
innocent details, and when the tide suddenly turns against
you, it is everyone elses fault. Sometimes I would like to try
killing you the way you killed my mother. Or capturing you
the way you captured my first cubs. But I dont think youdlike that too much. Ive heard that some of my kind has trieditand every single one I heard go down with the shot of agun. Too dangerous, are we? I dont think you realize howbad your own medicine tastes.
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I can blend in with my surroundings, unlike you. You dont
like me for that, I suppose. Being able to hide myself, its notadvantageous for you. Especially if you step on me. I mean, I
really do try to avoid you. Its not like I cant sense youcoming. Try to walk quietly; then, maybe, everything that is
forced to survive in this dead world wont run away, and youcan see the truth of what you did in their eyes. That is, if you
do look at their eyes and see truth. You probably only look at
their skin, or their teeth, and think of how much money you
could make. This greed, its unsustainable. Be careful whereyou tread.
Face to face. Palm to palm. Were so similar. Yet sodifferent. You refuse to see what is the same, only to
highlight what makes us different. I feel just as much as you
do. And when you look at me like that, like Im something tobe owned, and not something to be loved. It breaks my
heart. But then I see what youve done to my home, I realizethat that is normal for you. That I should not expect love
from a fellow creature, only destruction. And when love
comes, I guess Ill cherish it all the more, because thats all Ihave left now. No thanks to you.
Camouflage seems kind of pointless in this world youve
created. So straight, upright. My clouded coat is for endlessbrush, of every color and of every shade. Notthis. I dontknow what to make of it, really. A measured space between
each tree. Roads at intervals, workers scheduled only forcertain times of the day. If something goes wrong, you dontknow what to do. You are so comfortable with routine. All
symmetrical and orderly. Its almost amusing. Planting these
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trees, though, isnt helping the environment. This is making itjust like every other place on earth youve created.
Singing. I love to sing. Im sure you love to hear me sing. Or at least, the ones who came in the boats with the big cameras
and dreamy eyes did. I dont see them anymore; all I see arepalms. As far as the eye can see. Nothing else. Simply palms.
And the new people here? Theyre not nearly as friendly.Why cant you ever seem to agree on anything? Alwaysfighting about this or that. Always ruining, then feeling
remorse. But you cant fix what youve destroyed like you canfix a table or a chair. Its not that simple, what you messedwith. My calls, as they echo through the empty forest, seem
to haunt you now more than ever. Ill hope it stays that waylong after I am no longer here.
Jackie Ashkin
(10)
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Life as It IsEvery day feels the same: same posture, same smile,
and seemingly the same crowd. The texture of my hands,
face, lips, and even eyes reflects the light from the spotlights
that surround me. Well, sometimes I do change my posture
but against my will. She enters my window every other day,
strips the clothes off me, making me embarrassed for at leastfive to ten minutes. I have to tell you, I never get used to
standing there stark naked. Then she would finally stuff my
legs into another pair of jeans or shorts, and if my luck hangs
on to me, I can get a T-shirt and a jacket. My feet though
always feel empty because the shop does not sell any shoes.
If you come to think of it, it looks pretty dumb to wear a
perfect outfit without any shoes. Sometimes she twists my
joints quite carefully, putting me in a position she likes. But
other days she mangles my arms and legs with such force,
that I know for sure that she has had a fight with her infantile
boyfriend.
Well, I wasnt the only one who was sitting in acertain position on the window. There were quite a lot of
same mes with me. They have the same eye color, the samefacial expression and even the same shape of nose as I do!
Its rather quite unusual to stay in a place where there are alot of things that look just like you. Since they were there, I
tried to talk to them but they didnt seem to hear me. Therewasnt any reply from them. I figured that I was the onlydummy who could think and see. And that was quite
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something, very extraordinary and unusual. But at the same
time, I felt I was specially made. Man, that feels good!
The moment of pleasure usually doesnt last long. Itsmostly because I have to stand inside a window for the rest
of my life until its timeto be recycled. Its really scary tothink that I dont have a lot of time left in my life. I try toenjoy every minute of it, I really do, but it doesnt look likeits working that much. As you may have guessed, today wasas any normal day. Well, that was what I thought it would be.
I stupidly glared at the people walking around. I saw a
shopaholic with hundreds of bags on each hand, smiling
happily as she walked past my window. Shes always likethat; I got used to it. And, of course, theres the woman whocomes to the window of our store and goes back without
buying anything. I guessed she was a cheapskate or just plain
poor. It didnt really matter anyway. I also saw the teenagekids, about sixteen or seventeen years old, going to a movie
with their dates. I felt quite jealous looking at young people
dating while I get to be a stupid dummy. It just wasnt fair Igot used to the pain somehow.
Can you imagine what I can see, when standing in the
window, not even blinking my eyes? Hundreds of little
crimes! They dont even know that I can actually see things.Its rather quite ironic if you come to think of it.
Pickpocketing and shoplifting happens on a regular basis, butpeople dont even notice these crimes. But Im just a dummywho cant even talk. The only thing I can do is just sit thereand watch it happen. This is always uncomfortable when you
cant tell something that you desperately want to say.Wouldnt it drive you insane? It certainly does to m.
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Steven Kwon (10)
An excerpt fromDiary ofa Dragon Ryder:The two doors were pushed open by our leader and we all
illed in quietly afraid of what we would find and yet filled
with anticipation and excitement. The room was filled with a
gentle humming noise and there were at least fifty eggs if not
more of all different colors nestled carefully in cloth on
pedestals all through the room. It seemed almost to
elaborate and awesome to be real, so dramatic! But it was,
and the inexplicable joy and awe I felt welled up as I set eyes
on the room before me. I let out a breath I didn't even know I
was holding in and just stared at the glittering eggs. I'm
certain the look on my face was totally ridiculous.
Sir Carlyle chuckled at all of us and I'm sure he agreed with
my thought about the looks on our faces. He was probably
used to this, but I didn't know that I could ever get used to
something like this. It was to astounding!
"Listen up now boys." Sir Carlyle called to us and we all
turned instantly to him to listen to what he had to say. My
ingers itched to lay a hand on one of the gleaming eggs to
ind out which one was mine to take care of until it hatched.
Somewhere out there was an egg with a dragonlett inside
that would bond with me. I was so excited!
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"Now one of these eggs will choose you, trust me you'll know
which one it is when you find it. If one doesn't choose, well I
guess you're out of luck. Now be very careful with the eggs,while they won't break if you do drop them it's just better to
keep the eggs as safe as possible. And please no screaming if
you can help it. Now off you go."
The boys and I paused for a moment just to take in the sight
and then one by one we all began to move through the room
stopping near eggs not quite sure what was supposed to
happen or how we would know which one was meant for
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us.
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I passed between the nestled eggs wondering how I would
know; I paused near a dark green egg and then moved on
threading my way through the room. I glanced around myselfeeling worried once again that none of these eggs were right
or me and then I saw it.
The egg was a glorious silver color that seemed to shine in
the soft light. Darker grey-blue veins crossed the egg making
it look almost like ice. I walked towards it, my feet seeming to
move of their own will and stopped in front of the bright egg.
Slowly, almost afraid to touch it, I reached out.
The egg seemed to pulse as my fingertips slid over it until my
whole palm rested over the cool shell. I could feel jolts of
power tingling through my arm and down through me. I let
my eyes drift shut and settled my other hand over the egg as
well and everything seemed to fade away.
I'm not sure if this was a dream or not but here's what
happened when my eyes slid shut. Blinding white light
covered me and as it began to fade I stepped forward out ofthe white light. I stepped out into bright green grass on the
top of a hill with an amazing view of the valley. Ahead of me I
could see a man with a pure white dragonlett sitting on his
shoulder.
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I felt extra weight sitting on my shoulders and looked down at
myself. I was no longer dressed in my simple breeches and
loose brown shirt. Now I had on silver plated armor, not fullarmor but my shoulders, arms, and chest were all protected. I
elt a little top heavy but at the same time it felt natural. My
hair was also grown out long and done up in a braid down my
back. There was a short sword slung over my shoulder and
another resting at my hip. It was the strangest thing because
it felt perfectly natural even though I knew I had never worn
armor before and I had never had a sword either. I still had
my silver egg in my arms though and that was comforting.
Once I was over the initial shock of wearing armor and
inding myself in this strange place I looked around. There
was the man, still just standing staring down the valley, and
nearby was a white tree with bright red flowers in full bloom.
I blinked and walked forward slowly wondering what on
earth was going on here. What was this place and why was I
here? I stopped behind him and waited for a few moments tosee if he would do anything.
"Hello?" I asked in a quiet voice when nothing happened.
"Isn't the view lovely from here?" He asked me as he turned
around to face me. My first impression of the man was that
he was nothing special, just an ordinary person like me. Andyet he radiated power and authority. When I met his eyes, oh
he had the most amazing eyes! I can't even begin to describe
it. Just try to imagine the most amazing and beautiful thing
you've ever seen... and then multiply it by one thousand...
and you still wouldn't even be close. The color of his eyes was
so vivid and bright, a blueish-green color that I felt I had
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staring at me and then snorted and flew back to his
companion, setting on the man's shoulder.
"I believe, Nicoli, it is time for you to depart from here now.
Take care of yourself; trust in my Father to guide you."
Ciera Nash (10)
Half a Life--
I awoke; an explosion of light shattered my vision; I felt
painpain like no other. Every fibre in my body screamed;the pain, violent and vengeful, ripped and tore at my flesh;
my whole being was racked by a fervent rush of emotions. I
threw my head back, gasping for air, and spluttered a
desperate cry, but only spittle escaped my mouth; my
screams lay lost in the depths of my throat.
Hes awake.
I writhed. My whole body shuddered and I tried to focus my
eyes on my surroundings, but to no availeverything was ablurred, blinding force of searing light.
Hello?
Where was I? My breaths-- now nothing but feeble
exertions--seemed to wisp away into nothing. I fumbled,
pushed, pulled, kicked, tossed and turned; I was pinned to a
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bed with heavy covers suffocating me on all sides. I felt
trapped, like an animal stuck in a cage: alone, confused and
desperate.
Hello? Hello? Hello, can you hear me?
Still clawing at the covers, I again tried to scream. I wrenched
my mouth open and bared my teeth-wolf-like, the sinewsof my neck standing taut and strained, my head shaking
violently. Yet, again, the dry walls of my mouth, sticky and
arid, let not me scream.
Get the Doctor!
A sharp violent stab suddenly penetrated my right arm.
There, that should sort him out, growled a deep sonorousvoice.
After several seconds my violent seething began to lessen
and, at last, my eyes began to focus on that lying around me.
Above me, a mans face stared. The man didnt lookparticularly unkind, but nor he did he look the most kindred
of spirits. He looked at me, his eyes set under bushy
eyebrows, with a look of professional concern rolling his face
into an almost comical picture of pity.
Hmm, how are we feeling now? Boomed the man as hiseyes surveyed my well-being.
I grunted.
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Well-enough, I see, said he, narrowing his eyes. Do youhave any questions? Im Dr. Jones; I can help you.
The same old Doctor with the same old fake smile, thought I,
and thus shut my eyes, being of the belief that the Doctor
would leave me be.
The Doctor cleared his throat, and I heard his footsteps
retreat into the distance.
Wait! I shouted, a sudden horror flooding my whole body.
His heavy thudding footsteps grew nearer.
My family? whispered I.
For a second he just stood, as if in deep contemplation. And
then, looking past me and shaking his head, replied, Gone.His face crumpled as he told me, and he whispered under his
breath Im so, so sorry.
For a moment I just stared back at him: incredulous.
Gone? My family? I said. My children?
The Doctor just looked at me, sighed and shook his head.
My house? I pleaded.
Gone replied he.
My job... my life?
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His eyes suddenly narrowed, and for a second he looked
confused. Wait, said he. You dont understand, do you?You dont know what you did!
Where is my family, where is my life? cried I, ignoring hisquestion, my thoughts a whirlwind of emotions.
He fixed his eyes on me, a look of hate and disgust suddenly
consuming his features. Gone.Gone, gone, gone! He was
shouting now, a ferocious anger ripping at his once forced
pleasant and amiable features. Ittheyeverythingis allgone!
I looked back at him, shocked by the sudden outburst.
You just dont understand, do you? said he, a look ofoutright revulsion curdling his features.
But my life? I replied. What about my life, my family, mypossessions?
You never had a life, sneered he. You had dreams, oh yes,you had dreams, the most fantastic and wonderful dreams,
dreams, in many ways, more incredible than those of the
thousands of people lying beside you. But you were lazy; you
never did anything with your life! With each word he spoke,his face turned a darker, more painful, shade of red.
I didnt know what to say; I racked my brain; what had I donewith my life? In all honesty, I couldnt remember doinganything memorable or anything to be proud of.
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As if reading my thoughts, he looked aside and muttered, Of
course you dont remember anything! What have you donethats memorable? His face flew around to look at me, andhe began laughinga harsh, coarse laughter that neverreached his eyes.
A deep bitter remorse began to froth in the pit of my
stomach, my lips quivered, and my eyes began to glaze over.
What had I done? I let out a long, pitiful moan; my life
seemed to play before my eyes, every missed opportunity,every wasted hour, each played before me as if I were
watching a sick funeral march. I could bear it no more. I
wrenched my mind from my thoughts, and looked helplessly
at the man before me.
The Doctor was staring back at me. He was no longer smiling,
but nor did he seem angry; his countenance was thoughtful.
I took a deep breath. But Ive already lived half my life; whathave I left to live?
As soon as I said this, the Doctors eyebrows lifted and heallowed himself a chuckle. No. No, no, no. You havent livedat all! His eyes twinkled and he grabbed my arm; I could feelhis hand trembling excitedly as he said these words: Lifeisnt about how many years you live, he paused, life isabout how you spend the years you live.
The Doctor stood up, held my gaze for a couple of seconds,
smiled--an honest smile--and then walked away.
Karl Reeves (12)
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School
I woke up nervous but excited. It was my first day at
this school, well-known as the best school in this whole town.
I put on my new school uniform. A white blouse and a
pleated skirt neatly fit me, and for once my Mom didnt haveto hear a regular complaint about an ugly school uniform
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that I used to wear before. I jumped on my new bicycle, said
goodbye to my Mom and Sparky, my favorite setter, and
rolled away. The morning was bright and calm, and all Ithought about was the new school, new friends, and the fun I
was going to have with them. The closer I got, the harder my
heart was throbbing in my chest.
The school building was surrounded by a beautiful
green garden. Large trees and colorful flowers were dancing
in the wind. The sky was clear blue, and clouds were fluffy
white like cotton. All the students were sitting on benches,
chatting with excitement. Everyone seemed to be friendly.
Most of the students were hard-working pupils with straight
As. The school appeared too perfect for me.
The large school yard was slowly getting crowded
with chattering students who exchanged the latest news,
rumors, and gossips. The kids stood in small groups: some of
them giggling, the others leafing through their textbooks in
an attempt to memorize the facts they were supposed to
learn at home. Most of the girls were proudly displaying their
latest fashionable shoes, bags, and skirts and blouses while
the boys kept struggling in the toughest competition of trying
to determine who had the most expensive electronic gadget.
I chained my bicycle and tried to look confident but
friendly. After walking through the school yard for a few
minutes, I realized that the place was somewhat different
from what I had expected. Instead of smiling and trying to
look friendly, they were staring at me as if I was wearing my
uniform the other way round or was their sworn enemy. My
heart sank. I felt that all my dreams about the new schoolwere to remain as dreams, and I would have to see the same
arrogance and pretence that I ran away from when I decided
to change the school. The hostility in the eyes of the students
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made me feel miserable and lonely. The tingling of the tears
that were about to well into my eyes was getting stronger
with every step I took. I rushed to the building, desperatelytrying to calm down. I kept walking through the empty
hallway alone.
The bell rang and I reluctantly went to my first class.
Again, the students, my classmates, just stared at me. There
were a few seats left, but whenever I tried to sit, they
wouldnt let me. Their eyes told me, Dont you even thinkabout it! I finally found an empty seat that nobody seemedto claim, but it was so far at the back of the class that I could
hardly see the teachers face. The worse thing was that therewas absolutely no one I could talk to or had a bit of support
from to get through this miserable day somehow. I kept
glancing at my watch as if I could speed up those seemingly
interminable classes and get back home.
That afternoon, I finished my homework really fast
like a machine and decided to play Frisbee with Sparky. I
wanted to erase from my memory everything that had
happened this morning. The kids rejection was so powerfulthat it filled me with such disappointment that I couldnteven remember what I learned during the lessons. As I was
playing with my dog in my own little garden at the back of my
large house, I felt like someone was stalking me or staring at
me. It appeared that the entire town pretended to be
friendly only to prove otherwise.
The next day, I decided to give it another try. I was
riding my bicycle and praying that everything would be
different from yesterday. I tried to be confident again. AndGod did answer my prayer right away. Everybody was looking
at me nicely and smiled at me. I was confused about their
behavior. In the classroom, some of them even greeted me in
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such a friendly way. A pretty looking girl, Fabienne, who had
acted as a real snob yesterday, walked across the classroom
and handed me an invitation card to her birthday. I knewthat something was not quite right. They were so different
from yesterday. I just couldnt believe it.Just as I started to think that the kids had accepted
me, Fabienne said, When you come to my birthday party,please bring your dog to my house! It is going to be fun! Igasped. Thats who was staring at me and my great houseyesterday while I was playing with Sparky! She had told
everybody that my family was very rich. My big secret was
out. I felt devastated and extremely angry because they liked
me because I was rich, not because they saw a new friend in
me. I was so disappointed. I could not study or go to this
frustrating, miserable, and pretentious school. I ran out of
the classroom and sprinted straight home. I couldnt figureout how I was going to explain to my Mom why I was back
from school so early. I had to go back. That day, I told my
parents about everything. We all decided that I should try
another school where the kids were from simple families.
I said goodbye to my fresh, colorful, and beautiful
garden and my comfortable room which was as big as the
large baseball field. I said to my dog, You are lucky that youdont have any heart-breaking problems. I sighed and satdown for a while, thinking of why I had even tried to come to
this school. I ended up crying, looking out the window with
sorrow.
Kelly Shim
(10)
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Dreaming
Alithel awoke with a start as she fell out of her large
four poster bed. She landed on the floor with a groan of pain;
shed been having a nightmare again. Ali had been havingthe same recurring nightmare for the past five days. She
would find herself standing in her bedroom, and nothing was
amiss. She would walk over to her mirror and stare into it
and the reflection of her room would change, and not just
her room but Alis reflection would change too. She wouldbecome a mass of darkness in the middle of a blank red page
out of which two eyes would stare. One was green and the
other was blue. Then the two eyes would separate into two
people but the outline and features would be shadowy. Each
had a sword in handthat much was clear, and they wouldbegin to duel each other. Then Ali would wake up just before
she saw who won.
Ali moved from her position on her hands and knees
to a sitting position. She looked around her room to reassureherself everything was still there, and it was just as she had
left it last night when she went to bed. She rubbed her eyes
and yawned.
Stupid nightmare! she muttered as she stood andglanced at her bed. Her covers were strewn all over the
place, and twisted up because of her tossing and turning. She
sighed and tried to straighten up her covers but then gave up
after a few minutes. The maids would get it. She walked over
to her wardrobe and pulled out a dress made of blue silk that
matched her eyes. She slipped it on and then walked over to
her mirror. She looked in the mirror every morning so she
could face her fears. She washed her face, toweled it dry, and
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then looked up into the mirror. She stared for a second and
then screamed.
A maid came running into the room to see what waswrong. Ali didnt scream about nothing, as her sister did.
Whats wrong, miss? the maid asked as she burstinto the room. Ali looked away; she didnt want anyone tosee.
Nothing, its nothing, go away, Callie, Ali told hermaid in a low voice that meant dont argue with me. Themaid curtsied and left the room without a backward glance.
It was best not to argue with Ali when she wanted
something.
Ali turned and stared at her reflection in the mirror.
There was no way what she was seeing wasnt real. Unlessshe was having one of those dreams where you think youvejust woken up but youre really still dreaming. This was verysimilar to her nightmare. Perhaps she was still dreaming
then? Yes, that had to be; there was no way this could
suddenly be real. It just wasnt possible. Was it?Ali shook her head. If she was dreaming it was time
to wake up. Everyone knew that if you pinched yourself in a
dream you would wake up. She pinched her arm; nothing
happenedwell, nothing except that it hurt.So Im not dreaming then, my eye is sea green, not
sea blue now, Ali murmured. This was weird, like reallyweird. Who heard of someone whose eyes randomly change
on their sixteenth birthday? Talk about odd.
Okay, um, lets see what to do now? Is there any
way I can disguise this? I mean what the heck happened, thisis like my dream, and those were my eyes staring at me.
What is going on here? Ali asked no one in particular. She
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was taking this pretty well considering her eye had changed
colors overnight.
Im just going to have to deal with it, I guess, I dontthink theres anything I can do. Is there? I could wear ano, Ilook horrible in those things. Bad idea. I dont think theresanything else I can really do. I guess Im just going to have togrin and bear it, she told herself as she continued to lookinto the mirror.
Ali sighed and picked up her brush, determined to go
on as if everything was perfectly normal. Nothing was wrong
and nothing had changed. She brushed out her short dark
brown hair with quick strokes and left it as it was. She sighed;
it was time to go see what her parents thought about her
new eye color.
Ciera Nash
(10)
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NON
FICTION
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Coming to Dalat
My footsteps were heavy. I didnt want to leave Koreaand all my friends behind; however, the plane heading back
to Malaysia was waiting for me. I carried my luggage again
and began walking closer to the airport. My eyes were filled
with tears and I had to bid farewell to the loved ones. My
mom laid her hand on my right hand, held tight, and said
We had great times in Korea and unforgettable memories
will remain in our hearts. So dont worry, the same thing willhappen in Malaysia too. Her words encouraged my brokenheart and I was able to fight my fears back. As soon as I got
on the airplane and sat on my seat, I was exhausted and
immediately my eyes closed.
When I opened my eyes, I couldnt see anything vividly, but Inoticed that the plane had already arrived in Malaysia and
my parents were getting ready to leave. I rapidly packed my
things and got out of the plane. New surroundings,
languages, and people caught my eyes. Although I lived in
Malaysia for many years, it still felt like a new place to me
after I had gone back to Korea for a year. The tour bus
brought us to the Paradise Hotel. At first, my family and I
didnt realize that the hotel we were staying at was justbeside Dalat International School. The next day, we met Mr.
Holden and he kindly explained everything as we werelooking around the school together. I also met Mr. Tyas. I
remember him asking me a question, but since my English
wasnt as good as it was before, I couldnt understand him.What an embarrassing moment! Later, we met Mrs. Roberts
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and she informed us that I can start attending school next
week. So I began to get ready for school.
Finally it was my first day of school in Grade 7. Sarah
Hofmaan was my buddy. She was very helpful and kind. She
explained to me where the bathroom was, where the
cafeteria is, and which room I need to go for each class. I
wanted to talk and interact with my other classmates, but I
was very shy and I wasnt confident in my English, so I wasafraid to make mistakes. My C Block was Band. I met new
people and began to learn how to play the trumpet. Asha
was one of the classmates. She was a Korean too, so she
spoke Korean and made me feel comfortable. From that day
onwards, Asha was like my big sister and she always helped
me when I needed help.
Asha was one of the most influential people I know; she was
very important to me, and had an impact on my life. She
comforted me when I was feeling sad, encouraged me when I
was feeling down, helped me with my English and other
studies when I needed help, went out with me to Gurney
when I was feeling lonely; and the best of all, she aided me to
have a closer relationship with God. I learned many things
from her and I was greatly affected by her attitudes towards
me.
This experience persuaded me to do the same thing what
Asha did to me to the new students in Dalat. So when I
transitioned into high school, I welcomed most of the new
students in my grade, and made them feel comfortable. I
realized that even a small act of kindness or a word that
touches somebodys heart can change ones life. So I should
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be more careful of what I say to the others and keep
reminding myself that even a small act of kindness can totally
change that persons life. Just even a one word or an actcould kill someone or save a persons life. Therefore, I shouldalways think carefully before I say something to my friends,
my family, and others . I also need to be careful about how I
behave in front of people.
Grace Kim (11)
Reverse Psychology: TheVersatile Artillery
What if I asked you not to read this essay? I don't
think reverse psychology counts here even if you did
continue reading (and no, Im not testing you in any sense orway, so please continue wading through the rest of it). But
what if I were to tell you that this essay is about to be the
most spectacular piece of work you have ever encountered in
your academic career? Does this still qualify should it evenwork as reverse psychology, if you were to throw it in thegarbage bin (again, please dont) as you approach theterminal of this sentence? Reverse psychology may be one of
the most intriguing, yet frustrating, concepts to master and
identify, since the applications are virtually limitless; and, of
course, if done right, one may soon find herself (and to
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maintain political correctnesshimself but mostly, theformer, as a surfeit of scientifically proven studies has shown
that the female species is naturally more manipulative)always receiving the newest ten-thousand-dollar bag from
her naive, piteous, truly ill-fated oh daddy (and if he wereto hesitateshe would only have to respond, But daddy, Ihave the cramps!).
Objectivity is almost impossible to be obtained
regarding this topic; therefore I will attempt to define the
concept of reverse psychology through two interweaving
classifications but please allow me to remind you that, as
enthralling and insightful as this essay may seem to be, you
really dont have to continue (yes, please continue).The two categories are organized according to their
separate motives: first, the Please-allow-me-to-take-a-retest-or-just-watch-me-cry scenario; and second, the You-really-dont-have-to-pay-for-me (also my personal favorite)scenario one can certainly see traces of manipulation,persuasion, and self-glorifying tendencies within both of
them.
First, the Please-allow-me-to-take-a-retest-or-just-watch-me-cry (or watch-me-die if the perpetrator is trulydesperate) works rather simply. Imagine yourself still sitting
in a dreaded classroom, beside a dreaded friend of yours
who has a dreaded personality. She (or he but mostly she)loathes the terrible red ink that carves out the shape of a
letter F on the top of her test and she desperately needs aretest because she cant afford to fail this class right before
she sends her transcript off to Stanford University; but,unsurprisingly, her teacher wont reconsider his decision. Itsas if someone has just turned the lights off in the classroomthe world suddenly becomes darker than charcoal, and the
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only candle of hope has just been blown out by her ruthless
teacher. She then, as if just witnessing a fifty-ton semi-truck
landing on her fuzzy puppy, weeps and moans and bawls.The teacher is now genuinely concerned; he isnt sure whatto do or how to react and watching a young damsel indistress (now you understand why I chose a girl) and opting
not to help is against his morals. But, as quickly as they have
cascaded, the tears disappear, leaving no trace whatsoever
on her blushed countenance as she utters these words,
Fine, I dont need this grade anymore. She ambles off intothe distance as though she has just won the Oscar, while her
teacher still tries to ascertain some meaning behind her
actions which is also when the fiery guilt finally strikes himhard in his chest, pounding it fervently, burning him from
inside out. Fine, Sarah Come meet me tomorrow afterschool for a retest. Devious? Check. Does it work? Oh, yes.
The second case, entitled You-really-dont-have-to-pay-for-me, may not be so uncommon as you may eitherbe the victim or the perpetrator (you dont have to admit it) at least once in your lifetime. Though it does not alwaysguarantee success, this method certainly has the ability to
save you a couple bucks from time to time. Now, imagine
your last Starbucks session with an old acquaintance of yours
whom you havent met in years. After hours of tediouscatching-up and gratuitous small talk, you two finallydecide to return to your separate ways; but you realize that
you forgot to bring your wallet (or youre just feelingexcessively stingy on that particular day); and your innate
Chinese tendencies are telling you that your friend wouldalways snatch the bill away before you do, never failing to
ask to pay for you. Now youre faced with a moral dilemma,but you have just made the choice as quickly as it emerged.
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You start off by asking to pay for the bill, but he refuses
vehemently; and after 10 minutes of futile babbling (but, of
course, monumental for you), you finally muster up thecourage to give up. And you score. Devious? Certainly.Does it work? Without a doubt.
Hopefully, the naive, piteous, ill-fated father would
be able to read my essay and garner some common sense
back into his pre-frontal cortex before his daughter
articulates those lethal words. After all, reverse psychology,
though useful at times in attaining ones goals, can be one ofthe deadliest weapons too; therefore please make sure never
to use it with caution.
Jeffrey Hsiao
(12)
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