Write On!

A Teen ‘Zine

Santa Monica Public Library

Summer 2012

Pieces Inspired by

This Summer’s

Teen Writers’ Workshop

Write On! A Teen ‘Zine

Special Thanks To:

Sara Wilson Etienne

Suzanne Lazear

Michael Reisman

Michele Serros

Andrew Smith

Sonya Sones

Ann Stampler

The Youth Services Department

Friends of the Santa Monica

Public Library

Write On! A Teen ‘Zine, volume 3 is a

publication of writing by participants in the

Summer Teen Writers’ Workshop 2012.

Please enjoy these pieces, inspired by creative

writing exercises, author visits, and

teen life experiences.

Nothing at all would exist if it weren’t

a word first.

-Andrew Smith

(explaining the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis)

4 Write On!

This Hershey’s Kiss

Ensemble poem inspired by poet, Sonya Sones, in collaboration

with WriteOn! 2012 SMPL Teen Writers

This Hershey‘s Kiss,

this scrumptious new bell,

this delicious little bite of pointy pen,

this yummy little raindrop pouring from the sky

right into my mouth,

feels as smooth as an edible pebble.

This Hershey‘s Kiss,

shiny as the paper on a Christmas gift

placed under the tree in November,

curved as the tip of a flame,

waxen as my freshly-lotioned legs,

is like a sweet bite of polished ebony.

This Hershey‘s Kiss,

this delicious little pair of newly-shined chocolate shoes,

as smooth as a freshly painted wall,

as rough as a rock,

as scratched as our wood floor

after Clyde‘s paws have run across it,

opens in my mouth like a flower in bloom.

This Hershey‘s Kiss,

as shiny as a newfound diamond,

as shiny as my newly-washed Volvo,

as melty as an ice cream cone left out in the hot sun,

is as fragile as a teenager‘s self-esteem.

This Hershey‘s Kiss,

oh, this Hershey‘s Kiss,

this little chocolate soldier

ready to march right into my mouth,

as smooth as Justin Bieber‘s hair,

but not as sweet as the sound of your sweet voice.

Write On! 5

Carmelo D‘Angelo

I’ll Never Forget

That was it. He was gone. There was no getting him

back, ever. How could I have been so careless? How could I

have let him go unnoticed, assuming that my mom would

notice him on the pull-out couch? We‘d just gotten off the plane,

back in Philadelphia after our winter trip to California, tired

after the flight. I realized I didn‘t have him when my dad went

to the bathroom.

―Mom, you packed Blankie, right?‖

―What? I didn‘t know you brought it.‖

She shrugged it off, as if leaving my tattered blanket

(the one she knitted for me while I was a fetus) across the

country was nothing. My heart started racing, my eyes teared

up, but I kept quiet. My sister stared at me obliviously.

―Really, Carmelo? Are you really going to do this? You‘re

fourteen. We‘re in public.‖

Everything slowed down. The only sounds I could hear

were muffled. My head began to throb. My heartbeat was fast

and heavy when I let go of my rolling suitcase. Cliché

flashbacks rolled through my head. Times when I was scared,

rubbing Blankie between my fingers. Sleepovers that I snuck

him into. Times when I pretended the air was toxic, covering

my face with Blankie to filter it.

The times that I stared at him and a few other toys

whispering, ―It‘s okay, I know you‘re alive.‖ Sometimes I would

toss him up in air. One time he landed on a chandelier.

My father came out of the bathroom, so we left the

airport. To me the taxi ride home was long and quiet. When we

got back, I fled to my room and flopped on my bed. The event

had left a hole in my soul.

Sometimes I wonder what Blankie thinks of me,

forgetting him like that.

6 Write On!

Eliana Bono

Headphones I see my brother, George,

Sitting down on a chair

Away from me.

I ask him,―Hey, how was your day? Did your test go well?‖

No response.

I waited longer.

Nothing.

I could feel the anger filling up inside of me.

I felt like a balloon about to explode.

Why wouldn‘t George answer me?

Was it something that I had said?

I stormed over to him and

Slapped his face.

I could see the angry, questioning look

On his face.

Then he took off his headphones.

Headphones?

Write On! 7

Untitled

We were like family,

friends forever,

so why do I see

a horrible new her?

Luis Enriquez

8 Write On!

Luis Enriquez

My body has been slain

I got up and looked around

nothing in sight

I was in Downtown

and filled with fright

It grew very queer

I heard a noise

nobody was here

No girls or boys

It was a laughter

and I searched for it

Then I saw her

She said,"KILL IT!"

I turned and ran

They followed behind

I looked, saw a man

He got me and began to grind

I saw my blood fly

I screamed in pain

My soul rose to the sky

but my body has been slain

Write On! 9

Untitled

Skipping.

Seriously?

Who the heck invented skipping?

I mean, when you're sad,

feelin' like the whole world crashed

on top of you

like the breath was sucked

from your lungs

like your heart was ripped

from your body

like a million things you can never say

out loud

And someone skips next to you

without a care in the world--

Don't you wish it was banned, too?

Jasmine Singh

10 Write On!

Untitled

Who was that lady singing so sweetly?

An opera singer? A choir teacher?

Who was that lady singing so sweetly?

I don‘t know, but her voice is sweet as a Hershey kiss.

Ayesha Singh

Write On! 11

Noa Levy-Eshman

When Time Passes By

When time goes by I stop and I look. I live life not as a

contender, but as a silent viewer. My life is a mess of

events drifting by like days of a week. I sit as an observer

watching every second tick by. I'm petrified of growing up

and not even realizing. My family always reminisces

about when I was younger. I only wish I could remember.

Life is like a screenplay with good music. If you don't pay

attention to the screenplay, life passes by without

you. Every hour, minute, second, we are taught the idea

of having to do great things in your life, but what if you

don‘t? What if you grow up and you didn't cure cancer or

build a time machine? Are you just forgotten? When do

we get the chance to be ourselves without having other

people react to our decisions? I try every day to live in the

moments of my life, but it is so much easier to live as a

spectator of my life instead of a participant.

So what do you do when time goes by without you?

Avery

Salu

mbid

es

Ala

rm

T

he a

larm

clo

ck r

an

g s

o l

ou

d I

th

ou

gh

t th

e w

ind

ow

s w

ou

ld s

ha

tter.

I

gru

dgin

gly

pu

shed

th

e h

ea

vy,

wri

nk

led

covers

off

my b

od

y,

figh

tin

g t

he u

rge t

o s

tay i

n b

ed

. A

s I

step

ped

ou

t of

the c

om

fort

of

my b

lan

kets

th

e h

eat

dis

pers

ed

an

d c

hil

ls r

an

dow

n m

y

spin

e. M

y t

oes

crin

ged

again

st t

he c

old

flo

ors

eq

uiv

ale

nt

to t

hose

of

the a

rcti

c.

Lit

tle

did

I k

now

th

at

this

wa

s th

e b

egin

nin

g o

f th

e m

ost

horr

ific

da

y o

f m

y l

ife.

Wr

ite

On

!

12

- 1

3

Em

ma

’s P

ersp

ecti

ve

I

stood

th

ere

sta

rin

g a

t S

teven

‘s g

list

en

ing

blo

nd

ha

ir w

et

wit

h s

alt

y s

ea

wa

ter.

I

ga

zed

into

his

bea

uti

ful

gre

en

eyes

fixed

on

wh

at

life

wou

ld b

e l

ike i

f h

e l

oved

me l

ike I

loved

him

.

I h

ad

loved

him

for

fou

r yea

rs n

ow

an

d h

ad

been

best

fri

en

ds

wit

h h

im f

or

fift

een

. T

here

wa

s n

o w

ay I

wa

s goin

g t

o r

uin

ou

r fr

ien

dsh

ip

for

my p

ett

y c

rush

. H

e r

an

his

han

ds

thro

ugh

his

gold

en

hair

an

d c

on

tin

ued

his

sto

ries

as

I

stare

d r

igh

t th

rou

gh

him

, d

ayd

rea

min

g.

Th

en

I s

aw

his

exp

ress

ion

ch

an

ge f

rom

re-

laxed

to u

nease

, a

lmost

agit

ati

on

, a

nd

he

blu

rted

, ―I

‘ve l

iked

Am

y f

or

thre

e y

ea

rs a

nd

I

don

‘t k

now

wh

at

to d

o.

I k

now

you

‘re b

est

frie

nd

s so

…‖

his

word

s ru

nn

ing t

hro

ugh

my

bra

in r

em

ind

ing m

e I

wou

ld n

ever

be t

he o

ne

for

him

. M

y h

eart

san

k.

I f

elt

sic

k a

nd

wea

k.

I w

as

com

ple

tely

hea

rtb

rok

en

.

Ste

ven

’s P

ersp

ecti

ve

Em

ma

pla

yed

wit

h h

er

stra

igh

t b

row

n h

air

lik

e

she d

id w

hen

sh

e w

as

da

yd

rea

min

g,

her

face

ex-

ud

ing h

ap

pin

ess

an

d c

on

tem

pt.

I

talk

ed

abou

t

va

gu

e s

um

mer

mem

ori

es

bu

t A

my k

ep

t ru

nn

ing

thro

ugh

my m

ind

. H

er

lon

g,

blo

nd

e h

air

an

d

blu

e e

yes

to m

atc

h. T

he w

ay h

er

skir

t fl

ow

ed

thro

ugh

th

e w

ind

wh

en

sh

e t

wir

led

. H

ow

sh

e

kn

ew

every

sin

gle

an

swer

in A

P C

hem

bu

t k

ep

t

her

ha

nd

dow

n t

o a

void

gett

ing l

au

gh

ed

at.

U

n-

exp

ect

ed

ly a

su

rge o

f em

oti

on

s ra

n t

hro

ugh

me,

feeli

ngs

of

dis

com

posu

re a

nd

im

pa

tien

ce c

am

e

over

me a

nd

I t

old

Em

ma

. I

told

her

all

ab

ou

t

my u

nd

yin

g l

ove f

or

her

best

fri

en

d i

n h

op

es

tha

t

she l

iked

me,

too. E

mm

a‘s

fa

ce w

en

t b

lan

k a

nd

I k

new

Am

y d

idn

‘t f

eel

the s

am

e w

ay. M

y w

hole

worl

d w

as

cra

shin

g d

ow

n a

rou

nd

me.

I f

elt

lik

e

I n

eed

ed

to r

un

aw

ay o

r th

row

up

. I

wa

s

com

ple

tely

hea

rtb

rok

en

.

14 Write On!

Six-Word Memoirs

Inspired by a writing exercise based on the book Not Quite

What I Was Planning: Six Word Memoirs by Writers Famous

and Obscure, edited by Rachel Fershleiser and Larry Smith.

Enter High School.

Sleep?

What‘s that?

-Crystal

I

tend tu

use

spellcheck

a lot

-Nadia

I can‘t

think of

six words.

-Avery

I still

wish on

shooting stars

- Anika

We were friends.

Now we‘re strangers.

- Luis

The early worm gets

eaten first.

- Jasmine Living life

to

the

fullest

everyday!

- Noa

I am sometimes

shy or nervous.

- Ayesha

Haven‘t

decided my

own

FUTURE

yet...

- Eliana

Still waiting

for my love story.

- Anonymous

Write On! 15

Teen writers on the first day of Workshop!

Working with

Ann Stampler

16 Write On!

With Michele

Serros

With Sara

Wilson Etienne

With Suzanne

Lazear

Write On! 17

With Michael

Reisman

With Sonya

Sones

With

Andrew

Smith

18 Write On!

Teens Writers

working...

...and having

some fun!

Write On! 19

More Six-Word Memoirs Inspired by a writing exercise based on the book Not Quite

What I Was Planning: Six Word Memoirs by Writers Famous

and Obscure, edited by Rachel Fershleiser and Larry Smith.

I‘m Asian.

∴ Automatic math prodigy.

- Anonymous

Enter math class;

take out sketchbook.

- Crystal

Junk food/boys = key

to satisfaction.

- Noa

Can‘t leave fantasy.

Can‘t face reality.

- Anika

Pale pink

Isn‘t really

my

color

-Nadia

Help

from others

gives you

IDEAS.

-Anonymous

Feel the OCEAN

breeze

through me.

-Eliana

I am sometimes

naughty or nice.

-Ayesha

18 Write On!

Ho

rrid

Pa

ra

dis

e

―Th

e h

um

an

s lo

ve m

e,‖

sig

hs

Hap

pin

ess

. ―T

hey w

ors

hip

me, d

esi

re m

e; I

am

all

th

ey w

an

t in

lif

e.‖

―Rig

ht,

‖ sn

ort

s D

isgu

st. ―M

illi

on

s st

arv

e e

ach

da

y a

nd

mil

lion

s m

ore

are

mu

rdere

d.

You

are

cle

arl

y a

gre

at

pre

sen

ce a

mon

g t

hem

. B

esi

des,

th

e l

ove o

f h

um

an

s m

ea

ns

noth

ing.‖

―Th

ey h

ate

me,‖

sn

iffs

Pri

de. ―B

ut

on

ly b

eca

use

th

ey a

re e

xp

ect

ed

to.

In t

ruth

, I

live i

n e

very

on

e o

f th

em

. D

ea

dly

sin

th

ey s

ay. . .‖

―Poor,

poor,

fools

,‖ p

urr

s L

ust

. ―W

e a

re p

ow

erf

ul,

th

ou

gh

.

Th

ey h

ave a

rig

ht

to f

ear

us

an

d t

he t

hin

gs

we c

an

dri

ve t

hem

to d

o.

I m

yse

lf h

ave d

riven

men

to c

om

mit

dre

ad

ful,

dre

ad

ful

deed

s.‖

―Sp

eak

for

you

rself

,‖ l

au

gh

s C

rea

tivit

y. ―Y

ou

ca

n t

ak

e c

red

it f

or

those

‗d

rea

dfu

l d

eed

s‘,

bu

t I

am

th

e s

ou

rce o

f every

thin

g w

on

dro

us

an

d n

ew

in

th

e w

orl

d.

Th

ey d

ed

ica

ted

an

en

tire

age

to m

e.

Th

e R

en

ais

san

ce?

You

ma

y h

ave h

ea

rd o

f it

. . .‖

―You

r cl

aim

is

fals

e,‖

says

Cu

riosi

ty.

―All

th

at

is n

ew

in

th

e w

orl

d w

as

dis

covere

d d

ue t

o m

y i

nfl

uen

ce.

I h

ave c

au

sed

all

of

hu

ma

n‘s

gre

ate

st a

ccom

pli

shm

en

ts.‖

―Lie

s,‖

gro

wls

An

ger.

―E

very

war,

every

con

flic

t th

at

occ

urs

, is

du

e i

n p

art

to m

e!‖

―On

ly y

ou

, bro

ther,

wou

ld t

hin

k w

ar

an

acc

om

pli

shm

en

t.‖

Nad

ia R

ah

ma

n

―An

d w

hat

of

me?‖

begin

s G

reed

. ―C

ou

ntr

ies

figh

t over

lan

d a

nd

reso

urc

es

every

da

y.

Colu

mb

us

sail

ed

for

the N

ew

Worl

d b

eca

use

his

ru

lers

cra

ved

sp

ices

an

d g

old

.‖

―An

d y

et,

‖ re

pli

es

Cu

riosi

ty. ―C

olu

mb

us

wou

ld h

ave n

ever

fou

nd

th

e N

ew

Worl

d

if h

e h

ad

n‘t

won

dere

d w

hat

wou

ld h

ap

pen

if

he c

on

tin

ued

sa

ilin

g W

est

.‖

―An

d h

e w

ou

ld h

ave t

urn

ed

back

a d

ozen

tim

es

if i

t w

ere

n‘t

for

me,‖

sta

rts

Obst

inacy

.

―I k

ep

t h

is h

an

ds

stead

y o

n t

he w

heel

an

d h

is s

hip

s p

oin

ted

in

to t

he s

un

set.

‖

―Th

at

is o

ne e

ven

t,‖

mu

mb

les

Wea

rin

ess

. ―I

have a

hold

on

th

em

str

on

ger

tha

n a

ll o

f you

rs.

Th

ey c

an

fig

ht

if t

hey w

an

t, b

ut

all

hu

ma

ns

mu

st s

leep

half

th

eir

liv

es

aw

ay.‖

―It

ma

tters

not,

‖ sp

eak

s C

om

pla

cen

cy. ―I

f th

ey h

ave m

e t

hen

th

ey w

ill

never

need

an

y o

f you

.

I a

lon

e c

an

sa

tisf

y t

hem

.‖

―. . . Y

ou

‘re a

fool,

Com

pla

cen

cy,‖

mu

rmu

rs C

uri

osi

ty.

―Has

it n

ot

been

pro

ven

befo

re t

ha

t you

alo

ne a

re n

ot

en

ou

gh

?

If

you

were

, th

at

wom

an

wou

ld h

ave n

ever

left

her

du

ll p

ea

ce f

or

the s

erp

en

t‘s

word

s.

―You

are

all

fools

,‖ c

on

tin

ues

Cu

riosi

ty. ―I

f it

were

not

for

me,

non

e o

f you

wou

ld b

e h

ere

!

Non

e o

f you

wou

ld h

ave a

ny p

ow

er

at

all

. W

e‘d

all

be s

itti

ng b

ack

in

Ed

en

wh

ile A

da

m a

nd

Eve

wa

nd

ere

d a

rou

nd

as

min

dle

ss a

nim

als

, n

ever

feeli

ng H

ap

pin

ess

or

An

ger

or

Gre

ed

.

Wh

o d

rove h

er

to t

he t

ree?

Wh

o m

ad

e h

er

pic

k t

he a

pp

le?

Wh

o w

atc

hed

as

she b

it i

nto

it

an

d g

ave u

s p

urp

ose f

or

the f

irst

tim

e?

Me. A

lwa

ys

me!

All

of

you

wou

ld b

e n

oth

ing i

f n

ot

for

me; w

e‘d

have l

ain

ete

rna

lly w

ort

hle

ss,

for

wh

at

use

were

feeli

ngs

lik

e u

s in

th

at

horr

id p

ara

dis

e?‖

Wr

ite

On

!

2

0 -

21

22 Write On!

Ayesha Singh

Why Am I Like This

My head buzzes like a bee.

Why am I like this?

I get so angry like I'm about to burst in tears.

My heart thumps like a giant is coming my way.

Why am I like this?

Write On! 23

Goodbye Love!

"Friends forever", is what you say,

but I want more than that.

"You're such a great friend,‖ is what you say,

but i want more than that.

We've known each other for a while now

so please, o please just tell me how...

How is it that we just can‘t be.

Someone once said that you're just like me.

When I get down on one knee,

I want someone like you,

but since it can't be you,

please, o please just tell me who...

Who else has that right perfection.

If you know, show me the direction.

I love you so,

but since you don't love me back

you leave me no choice,

but to let you go.

Luis Enriquez

24 Write On!

Eliana Bono

The Lonely Ones

I never get into trouble-except when I‘m with my best

friend. Nick just moved here to Santa Monica. His parents

never talk to him and always come home late.

I feel really sorry for the guy. He always comes over to my

house at midnight! I know, midnight! But it always starts with

a bright flashlight shining on my window.

―Nick!‖ I scream. I pull on a blue V-neck T shirt and run

downstairs. Once I reach the front of my house Nick tackles

me.

―Dude,‖ he says.― Josh, dude what took you so long?‖

I mumbled. Nick never really listens to what I have to

say. It‘s always just Nick, Nick, Nick! It‘s always about him!

―I‘m getting hungry dude!‖

―OK,‖ I say. ―Let‘s take you home.‖

―No way!‖ he shouts back.‖ Like I‘d ever come back

there. My dad is so harsh. He doesn‘t even care about me. He‘s

mad now because I didn‘t wash the windows. The jerk won‘t

even let me have dinner!‖

―So,‖ he puts his hand on my shoulder. ―I‘m going to get

the food myself.‖

A wide grin spread across his face. I can see his

narrowed eyes even in the dark night. Then I suddenly realized

what Nick was saying. He was going to steal. Why doesn‘t he

just admit to his parents he should have washed the windows?

It was never like that though. Nick had to have revenge.

―Come on,‖ he screamed.

―Nick...‖ I couldn‘t find the right words to say. I took a

deep breath, ‖You don‘t have to do this, Nick.‖

―You know, Josh, that my parents have never cared

about me. They never have.‖

I could see the tears coming into his eyes. What should I

do? I could just say: Nick, it‘s late, and I need to go to sleep.

Yah, I hope that would work. He could deal with his filthy

revenge problem by himself. Why did he always drag me into

all of his nasty problems?

Write On! 25

―Nick...uh I really need to go home.‖ Of course Nick

completely ignored me. He always has a habit of doing that.

―You know what will happen if you don‘t...‖

I knew what he was talking about. He would completely

take all my money. It would happened all over again. So I was

dragged around by Nick. We walked through the dark streets

and finally arrived in front of the market. My heart was

beating. If Nick and I stole something from the market I would

have a record of stealing and shoplifting. That definitely is a

crime! My whole reputation would be ruined. I would be a

criminal forever and my family would be ashamed of me

forever.

―Nick,‖ I found all the courage deep down inside me.

I looked into his cold eyes and finally realized that I could

defend myself. I wouldn‘t let Nick keep dragging me around.

I‘d had enough. Finally, I spoke up, ― I won‘t do it! No! Why do

you always drag me around? You‘re not a friend if you do stuff

like this. It‘s not cool man! I‘m leaving right now. You can rob

a store but just leave me out of it!‖

Nick just stared at me and I was surprised how quiet

he was. Then he stood over me. Suddenly he looked tougher in

the light...

―So... now you think you‘re so tough, huh. Little Josh

finally has courage.‖

―Nick...come on. I was just...‖

―Joking.‖ Nick finished the sentence for me. ―Okay

let‘s JOKE!‖

What’s going on? I thought. Then I realized as I backed

away from Nick on the dark sidewalk. I should have expected

it to come. Nick was going to beat me up.

26 Write On!

That day in December

As I lay all alone,

head placed on a cold stone,

I stare at the sky and wonder.

Thoughts running,

hearts' aching,

Then it starts.

I get up and say,

"why feel sad on a beautiful day

I wanna go out and live.‖

I went out and had fun,

every minute 'til the day was done,

The day was good.

But on that day in December

I'll always remember,

that I was all alone.

Luis Enriquez

Write On! 27

Untitled Work

With a foul attitude and spoiled muse as what he shares with our pack

Every night we are served a dinner of bitter mutterings

And a side of sour complaints

Spitting and sputtering

You wonder if he has any restraint

But a new demand has been set

The rest of us dare not defy,

For our ears will be met

with a grizzly roar and cry.

Frothy spittle flies from his jaws

When something goes against his fur

Beware! His long thorny claws!

The creaking floorboards warn when his presence lurks, near—

You cannot hide! Only fear!

With you in his snare,

There‘s no escaping, is there?

Tomorrow‘s dinner will be roast kid

―Good luck, farewell,‖ your sister bids

As this voracious creature before me loses his composure

With teeth like mayonnaise,

And bloodshot eyes fury completely ablaze,

There is no way to appease such a beast!

You will have to be his next feast.

If you think I‘m going to run,

When I hear the ―FEE-FI-FO-FUM‖,

You will be stunned

When I pull out my shotgun.

Crystal Chang

28 Write On!

Nadia Rahman

Flawless (excerpt)

I read a book once called Island of Darkness. It was your

typical fantasy novel about an average guy named Darryl who got

sucked through a portal and onto a strange island filled with even

stranger people. Throughout the book he made new friends, em-

barked on a dangerous quest to save the island from an evil villain,

and, predictably, met a girl.

Zoe (the girl he met) was Darryl‘s dream girl: She was

5 ft 7 with shining hair that ―fell several inches past her

shoulders.‖ She was highly intelligent for her young age (16 and a

half) and excelled in math and quantum physics, though she didn‘t

like to mention this due to her modest personality. Zoe also was a

notably fast runner, an experienced rock climber, a fairly decent

singer, and an amateur novelist. In her spare time, she enjoyed

teaching the children of the island how to read, cooking meals for the

elderly, and writing original songs.

Young Darryl had quickly fallen in love with Zoe‘s

passionate nature, kindness, courage, intelligence, selfless

behavior, quiet strength, optimism, charisma, and unassuming

beauty. Island of Darkness ended with Zoe‘s tearful departure from

the island to start a new life with Darryl as a beginning songstress

and part time kindergarten teacher.

Zoe had no flaws; she was the perfect heroine.

As a teenage girl, I am locked in a constant battle with my

various insecurities. My nose is too big, my hair is too

frizzy, I‘m awful at sports, the list goes on and on and on and on and

on . . . and on. When faced with a girl like Zoe, who is apparently

flawless, I tend to get a bit angry/jealous/insecure. It‘s even worse

when this perfect girl turns out to be a complete angel on top of all

her other pros because then I end up feeling bad about disliking her

which makes me more angry/insecure.

Luckily for insecure teenage girls like me (and I‘m

inclined to think that we make up most of the teenage girl popula-

tion) girls like Zoe exist only in books. They are

fictional and cannot come out to make us feel inadequate

once we have closed the covers on them. I mean, come on, nobody‘s

perfect, right?

I hated her.

Write On! 29

Right?

The day of Sabrina‘s arrival dawned dim and misty, quite

unusual for a Californian summer.

―It‘s sympathetic fallacy.‖ I told Mom as we drove to the

airport. ―That means the weather is in tune with my current

feelings.‖

Mom rolled her eyes and said nothing.

―Alas, my time as a free citizen is ending. I will soon be

shackled to the chains of social pressures and polite conversation.‖

―Oh stop being so dramatic,‖ snapped Mom. ―Sabrina is only

staying here for a week. You‘ll still have all of August to laze around

after she leaves.‖

―One week . . . that‘s almost 2% of the entire year. So much

time going to waste, so much time that could be spent reading or

drawing or—‖

―That‘s enough,‖ said Mom. ―Sabrina is your friend. Spending

time with her should not be considered a waste.‖

I snorted.

―I mean it, Nadia. Sabrina is our guest and you will make her

feel welcome while she‘s staying with us. You don‘t need to entertain

her every second of the day but I do expect you to be polite and have

a positive attitude while she‘s around.‖

―Yeah, yeah. I‘ll be positive.‖

―You had better be.‖

We reached the airport and began inching along the

pickup area.

―Let‘s see,‖ muttered Mom, ―She said she was under the

Delta sign.‖

―That‘s not very helpful; there are, like, fifteen Delta signs.‖

―Sssh. I‘m looking for her. . .‖ Mom squinted out the window.

―There!‖

―Where?‖

―There, under the Delta sign.‖

―We‘ve been over this before, Mom, there‘s a lot of Delta signs

so could you – Woah! Geez Mom, give me some warning next time you

swerve like that, parking spots aren‘t that rare.‖

Mom wasn‘t listening to me. She put the car in park and then

turned to glare at me.

(continued on next page)

Enter Sabrina Barras . . .

30 Write On!

(Flawless, continued)

―Nadia,‖ she hissed in her ‗really serious‘ voice. ―I will not

say this again. You will cut down on the snarky comments while we

are with Sabrina and you will be a proper host. Sabrina is a very

sweet girl and she has been looking forward to seeing you again;

do not ruin this for her.‖

I grumbled. She was making me feel guilty. I hated

feeling guilty.

―Now go out there and help your friend with her bags.‖ Mom

elbowed me lightly. I grumbled again, then stepped out of the car to

look for the source of my current problems. It didn‘t take long to find

her. Sabrina was standing several yards away next to a large blue

suitcase; she was tapping away on a very pink looking phone.

I walked up to her.

―Eh-hem,‖ I coughed. Sabrina looked up at me and then

blinked in recognition.

―Nadia!‖ she cried, a beatific smile breaking across her face.

Her phone disappeared into a blue leather purse and I was drawn

into a tight hug.

―Nadia!‖ she said again, releasing me at last. ―It‘s been so

long, but, my god! You look exactly the same. I swear, you haven‘t

changed at all!‖

I couldn‘t figure out if that was either a highly questionable

compliment or a very subtle insult. I gave Sabrina the benefit of the

doubt and went with compliment.

―Thanks,‖ I smiled weakly. ―I can‘t say the same thing about

you, though. You look really different from – Hold on!‖

I stepped back.

―Are you . . . taller than me?‖

Sabrina smiled happily. ―Yup! I‘m 5 ft 7 now.‖

This was new. This was very, very new.

―I used to be taller than you.‖ I croaked.

Sabrina grinned even wider, ―Well, a lot can change in

two years!‖

Yes. A lot certainly could. I groaned inwardly and bemoaned

the loss of my height advantage; this visit was already off to

a bad start.

Write On! 31

Untitled

Bitter-sweet kisses

Dripping on my porch into

a melting puddle.

Jasmine Singh

Luis Enriquez

Untitled

I‘m running too far

The breeze is growing colder

And snow is falling

32 Write On!

Avery Salumbides

Stacy Avalon – The Artist

I sat on my balcony, the breeze rustling my hair. I sat

back in my black leather facing an empty canvas and

stacks of new blue paint. Breathing in the salty ocean

air, I picked up my new paints and emptied them onto

my imported, birch wood pallet. Rolling the pen between

my index finger and thumb, I stared out to the Pacific.

The vast blue ocean never ending and unknown. The

violent waves crashing over each other like MMA

fighters in the Octagon. The sun setting in the

background giving off just enough light to see the

surface, yet keep what‘s underneath hidden. I painted

this scene of mystery and power that instilled fear in my

core. Once finished, I sat, back twirling my auburn hair,

thinking. Everyone sees the ocean as soothing and

happy, but I see it as the greatest and scariest mystery

in the world. I wanted so badly to figure it out but for

now though, all I could do was paint it… Oh well. So I

went inside and made some dinner.