Paper Planes June2015 Issue2

Transcription

Paper Planes June2015 Issue2
Table of Contents
Editor’s Note ................................................................................................................................... 3
The first flapping of wings .............................................................................................................. 4
The left-handed, intelligent boy ...................................................................................................... 5
Although you’re gone ...................................................................................................................... 5
Real Value ....................................................................................................................................... 6
Love ................................................................................................................................................. 7
The Color Yellow ............................................................................................................................ 7
Phoenix ............................................................................................................................................ 8
Kevin Jones ..................................................................................................................................... 9
Climbing Life ................................................................................................................................ 10
The Way I Stood............................................................................................................................ 11
Word Art........................................................................................................................................ 12
All for Nothing .............................................................................................................................. 13
Maeve ............................................................................................................................................ 16
I Didn’t Think It Would End Like This......................................................................................... 17
Makaylee ....................................................................................................................................... 20
For You.......................................................................................................................................... 21
Tatum............................................................................................................................................. 22
Anxious Thoughts Must Be Stopped ............................................................................................. 23
Ice Cream Mural ............................................................................................................................ 24
My Shed ........................................................................................................................................ 25
Fluffy Puppy .................................................................................................................................. 26
Love Letter to my Fifteen-Year-Old Self ...................................................................................... 27
Haiti ............................................................................................................................................... 28
The Secret City .............................................................................................................................. 29
African Queen ............................................................................................................................... 31
JUST DO YOU CONTEST WINNERS ....................................................................................... 32
Paper Planes Magazine .................................................................................................................. 33
Editor’s Note
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the second issue of Paper Planes Magazine! The Paper Planes team has
worked so hard this semester to present you with an issue that you’ll enjoy. I would like
to thank them for their hard work and dedication. The theme for this issue is memories.
Everyone has memories, right? Good, bad, terrifying, fun. Memories we’ve learned from
and memories we’d love to relive.
I want you to think about all of the memories you’ve been a part of this past year. Think
about the laughs you and your friends shared and the tears you’ve cried. I specifically
want you to think back to the time where you felt like school was too hard and you felt
like you wanted to give up. That was a bad memory, right? Now think about the present.
You’ve made it. The school year is over and you have the entire summer ahead of you to
make it what you want. Nothing is definite; everything changes and eventually it will all
become a memory.
So, as we send our seniors off into the real world, prepare our juniors for the most crucial
time in their lives, and congratulate our sophomores and freshman on another successful
year, let’s remember not to be afraid of change As life changes, memories don’t. Speaking
of change, this will be my last ‘Letter from the Editor’. It has been a fun and rewarding
experience, but I have decided to pass the torch. A rising sophomore or junior is destined
to step up and take charge and that person will be chosen before the New Year.
Before you go read the amazing pieces in this magazine, I want to congratulate all of you
on the memories you’ve made this past year and on the ones you have yet to make. Have
a wonderful safe summer and I will see all next year.
-Maya K. Alexander, Editor-in-Chief ♥
The first flapping of wings
Amy Do
Poetry
Spring has arrived
The branches are heavy with flushed blossoms
All in riotous bloom
Little birdy needs to fly
yet caution and nerves take over
Little birdy, little birdy,
life is short
while the days are long
One day passes, make it count
Ten years pass, make it yours!
The left-handed, intelligent boy
Meghan Hernon
Poetry
The left-handed, intelligent boy
The nicest one of all of us
Your bright red hair
And the way you laughed so hard that dinner
My eleven-year-old brother gone too fast
But you are gone
And I am left to grieve
Although you’re gone
Genevieve Santili
Poetry
Although you're gone, you're here
Your innocence sparkles and shines
Like your bright red hair
I read your poems
To help me remember you
They remind me of your hope
You carry
Of the innocence
Forever buried with you
As mine crumbles and falls
Dragging me down
Farther from you
Real Value
Tram Nguyen
Artwork
Love
Sheila Dupan
Poetry
What is love?
Does it fly away like birds when winter comes?
Or is love peaceful like a dove?
Does its wings give hope of break too quickly?
Do the wings of hope lift you?
Can hope pick you up when you're down?
Can hope dry the tears and nights of the unknown?
Can hope bring your spirit up until hope goes down?
Or is hope going to break and never come back again?
Maybe so, but love is everlasting.
Always there when you least expect it.
Love is hidden, but always present.
The smallest acts are kind but mostly out of love.
The Color Yellow
Tehya Hubbert
Poetry
There’s something magical about the color yellow.
It’s bright and symbolizes the sunlight
But too tainted to be the color white.
It’s light and pure, the color of a flowerYet it’s also the accident in the shower.
It’s a color of a butterfly spotted in the spring
But it’s also the color of the bumblebee ready to sting!
Phoenix
Zeline Bartolome
Artwork
Kevin Jones
Tehya Hubbert
Short Story
Moaning, clanking, the sounds of long, uncut fingernails scratching against thick
walls, the clattering of inmates shaking their steel, rusted prison bars and the shouts of
vulgar language and insults echoed through my ears. Along with the faint sound of desire
to escape--a thirst for freedom that was almost unobtainable.
It was white and bright in the room I resided in. It was not my room, yet they
called it my room, or my cell. My “room” was cell 239 and my roommate, my cellmate
was Kevin Jones. He slept on the bottom bunk while I slept on the top. He and I got
along pretty well, we never argued but we also barely talked to each other. But I could tell
he was my friend, no words were needed. I understood him and he understood me. That
was my room. My new “apartment”...but this room was punishment. I always sat in the
corner of the white room. They kept me in a straightjacket in the white, cushioned room.
The bright, white light beat down on my eyes. It was hard to blink because the light stung
my eyes but I always kept looking ahead. Kevin Jones always sat in front of me, the
corner across from me. I sat in the corner.
Every now and then, I hear them. Whispering and mumbling, “He’s mentally
unstable and needs to be sent to ‘that’ facility. They take care of things like him,” the only
audible phrase I could ever hear them say. The phrase was different every time, but all to
the same message. “Mentally unstable”, “send to the facility”. They could only be talking
about me, Kevin Jones is not crazy--but neither am I. I wanted to defend my case, “I only
made one simple mistake! I am not crazy, I’m perfectly sane!” but not a peep came out of
me. I was parallelized by their drugs. Their words haunt me. I sat in the corner.
Days would come and go and they take care of me. I cannot say a word nor move
a muscle, so they must nurse me. When I soil myself, they change my straight. On many
occasions, I ask myself, “If I cannot move, why keep me in a straight?” The answer never
comes. My days are limited here and soon they’ll send me to the facility for my kind. I’m
desperate for escape. I don’t want to go. I can’t go. I’m scared, I’m scared, I’m scared. I’m
scared I’m- I’m terrified. I made one mistake, just one, and I regret it. God, please, I
know I have sinned and sinned but please, save me, save me, HELP ME. I tried to cry, I
wanted to cry, but the tears would not fall. I sat in the corner.
On my last and final day, Kevin Jones sat in the corner with me. He had come to
comfort me. He pat me once, on the shoulder, and stood up. How? In this room, you
must be in a straight. Always. How did he pat me, how did he stand? For the first time
ever, I looked up. The light was bright. I squinted, it glared back. Kevin Jones stood still
in the light. He stood while I squinted, and at that moment, the door opened.
Slowly...slowly...the metal corners scratched the doorframe to emit an awful nail-onchalkboard sound. “It’s time, Kevin Jones,” said a man in a black suit and tie. Two men
dressed in white came into my room. They stood me up and carried me out. I stared
where Kevin Jones sat. He was no longer there and I no longer sat in the corner.
Climbing Life
Genevieve Santilli
Artwork
The Way I Stood
Anonymous
Poetry
All my life I stood
up for people
Because people let me fall
The way I stood wasn’t perfectsometimes my posture was all wrong
But I stood tall
Tall as I could
like a sunflower
to maybe make you proud
Standing my whole life
was not easy
Sometimes I wanted to sit
To breathe
To be a lamp that wasn’t lit
The way I stood was just like you
Passionate and strong
But I couldn’t ever lose my balance
In fear I’d lose you too
One day I realized
The way I stood still wasn’t exactly how you did
You took it with you
When I was just a kid
So one day
The way I stood was for you
On the edge of an airplane
Falling wasn’t bad
As long as I had a parachute
I thought maybe standing was overrated
How wrong I was when,
I fell
fell
fell
Word Art
Madison Bennett
Artwork
All for Nothing
Zeline Bartolome
Short Story
Linda, Simon, Tyr, and I sat at a round
table, waiting for Miss Oswell to bring us
some kind of concoction. The scientists
were always testing things on us. We
became test subjects the day the owner
of the laboratory found us on the streets
as infants. The scientists took us in and
gave us a home when no one else wanted
us; we were all grateful, with the
exception of Tyr.
Finally, Miss Oswell placed four
cups on the table and poured some
liquid from a beaker into each of them.
Tyr hesitated, but the other test subjects
and I drank it immediately. Tyr was the
only one of us foolish enough to doubt
the scientists who raised us. As I set my
cup back on the table, I glanced at the
beaker that contained the fluid. The
label said, “Elixir of Immortality.”
“What’s immortality?” Tyr asked
Miss Oswell as he stared at the beaker
curiously.
Miss Oswell bit her lip. “It means
that this drink will make you live
longer,” she replied slowly. “Now go to
sleep, children.”
Miss Oswell hastily turned the
light off and left the room, closing the
door behind her. With the light off, the
room was pitch black. I crawled on the
floor until I felt my sleeping bag in the
corner of the room. I lay down and
closed my eyes, anticipating yet another
day of testing in the morning.
When I woke up, someone was
shaking my arm. I looked up into Tyr’s
wide hazel eyes and pushed him away as
I sat up.
“Simon and Linda are gone,” Tyr
explained frantically. “The scientists
killed them. We need to get out of here.”
“Tyr, you need to stop doing
this,” I said dismissively. “You try to
convince me not to trust the scientists
every single day.” Nevertheless, I
glanced around the room, wondering
where Linda and Simon were.
“I’ll prove it to you. I’ll show you
what the scientists used to kill them. If
you let me show it to you, I promise I’ll
never bother you again.”
I reluctantly stood up as Tyr
tugged on my arm. As I followed him to
the door, I noticed that one of the cups
on the round table still had liquid in it.
The cup was at Tyr’s seat.
I followed Tyr down the hallway
and down a narrow staircase. I had
never wandered around the lab without
adult supervision before, but I needed to
make Tyr stop bothering me. At the
bottom of the staircase, there was a door
with a red sign on it that said, “Do Not
Enter Without Explicit Permission.” Tyr
slowly opened the door, and I was
aghast at what I saw.
The first thing I saw in the room
was a tall wooden structure, and the part
that caught my eyes was the blade. Tyr
told me that the machine was called a
guillotine and that it was used to kill
Linda and Simon. I widened my eyes.
Tyr began to shake me and call my
name, but I continued to stare at the
guillotine. More than anything, I wanted
to make sure that it was never used on
me. I needed to run away.
“You were right,” I said with a
shaky voice. “We need to get out of
here.”
Tyr did not let any time go to
waste. He grabbed my hand and pulled
me back to the stairwell. My feet moved
on their own. My mind was still in the
downstairs room, where my two best
friends were killed.
Suddenly, Tyr stopped moving.
The exit was just up ahead, but two
security guards dressed in black were in
our way. My heart sank. Just when I was
ready to return to my room, Tyr charged
forward, pushing the guards out of the
way. I ran toward Tyr as he opened the
door, and we ran away as fast as we
could.
My heart was racing with fear. I
tried to calm down by focusing on my
breathing. I breathed in, feeling the
brisk wind refreshing my body. As I
exhaled, I noticed the brilliant light of
the sun, surrounded by a lovely shade of
blue. I could not remember the last time
I had seen the sun. Suddenly, I had the
energy to run ahead of Tyr. We grinned
at each other before we raced to the end
of the block, where we collapsed onto
the grass by the sidewalk.
“I think we can rest here,” Tyr
said. “I don’t see anyone from the lab.”
Tyr and I sat next to each other
with our backs against a tree, which
provided shade from the sunlight. Tyr
began to ramble on about something,
but I paid no attention to him. My mind
was already being possessed by sleep. I
closed my eyes and leaned on Tyr’s
shoulder. He finally stopped talking, and
soon, we were both asleep.
I woke up with a gun pointed at
my face. I widened my eyes at the owner
of the gun, my friend Linda. Simon was
standing next to her, pointing his gun at
Tyr. Simon and Linda both had light
scars around their necks and
determined looks on their faces.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “We
thought you were dead.”
“We need you to come back
home with us,” Linda said with a somber
visage.
“No. The lab isn’t my home
anymore. I can’t go back there.”
In a blur of motion, Tyr
incapacitated Linda. Without a moment
to spare, he grabbed my arm, and we ran
across the street into a field that was full
of carved stones. Tyr and I crouched
behind one of the stones. Upon further
examination, I realized that the stones
had names carved into them.
“Simon’s out there,” Tyr
whispered. “It’s only a matter of time
before he finds us. We need to get past
him somehow. Maybe we should try
running in opposite directions at the
same time.”
“I can’t,” I said as tears fell from
my eyes. “I’ll die.”
Tyr shushed me, but it was too
late. I could hear Simon walking toward
us. I impetuously got up and started
running, screaming at the top of my
lungs. The sound of gunfire pierced the
air. I dropped to the ground, awaiting
death. However, death did not come for
me. I turned my head to see Tyr pinning
Simon to the ground. His white T-shirt
was now covered with red. I was
overwhelmed by shock and despair, but
underneath it all, I was relieved to be
alive.
“Run,” Tyr shouted as loudly as
he could. He was clearly straining
himself.
When I faced forward again, I
found someone blocking my path. Miss
Oswell looked down at me with pity. She
helped me get up, and even when I was
standing, she continued to hold my
hands. I refused to be comforted by this
treacherous gesture of affection.
“You poor child,” Miss Oswell
said gently. “I never wanted this to
happen. I thought Tyr drank the elixir. I
thought he would live forever, but
instead, he died to save you. He died for
nothing.”
“Please, don’t kill me,” I begged
desperately.
“I won’t kill you, Elise. I’m not
even sure if I can. The drink I gave you
yesterday was supposed to make you live
forever, I haven’t tested its limits yet,
but if Linda and Simon can survive
getting decapitated, I’m sure you could
survive a mere bullet wound.”
“Then Tyr really did die for
nothing,” I sobbed.
“Look around you, Elise. Each
one of these stones is made for someone
who has died, and this graveyard is
probably only for people from this area.
There are thousands of other graveyards
in this world. If you stay out here, you
might be happy and make new friends,
but that happiness will only last for so
long before you have to see each one of
your friends die. Do you want that?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then you know what you have
to do.”
I wiped the tears off my face and
nodded. “I’ll go back to the lab.”
As I followed Miss Oswell back to
the lab, we passed by a man and a
woman who were smiling down at a
little girl. They seemed happier than I
had ever been in my entire life. I
considered that maybe Miss Oswell was
wrong about the world. I already knew
that I could not trust her. I smiled as I
made up my mind. I was going to stay in
the lab long enough to convince Linda
and Simon to come with me. I was going
to make Tyr’s dream come true.
When Miss Oswell and I stepped
into the shadow of the laboratory
building, she turned to face me.
Suddenly, I felt something being pressed
against the back of my head.
“Your immortality hasn’t been
tested yet,” Miss Oswell said flatly. A
loud noise filled my ears, and everything
went black.
I woke up with a terrible
headache, and the last thing I
remembered was sitting at a round table
with Linda, Simon, and Tyr.
Maeve
Maeve Williams
Artwork
I Didn’t Think It Would End Like This
Isabelle Resil
Short Story
Tick. Tick. Tick. A young, blonde
girl steadily awoke to the ticking sound.
She couldn’t figure out the source. It
perplexed her and she didn’t like that it
left her so confused so early in the day.
She fidgeted in her bed before propping
herself up. Naia turned towards where
she heard the mildly annoying, rhythmic
tone. Peering through the murky
darkness of her room, she managed to
make out a round figure. After a few
seconds of pondering, she stupidly
realized that it was only the new,
expensive clock her friend Robin had
given to her just recently after getting a
new job.
The bright sun instantly hit the
girl’s face as she exited the crowded
train car. Her blonde hair whipped
around her face despite its short length.
She smoothed her new dress before
heading in the direction towards the
newly built shopping mall. It’s all she’s
been talking about for the past week or
two. Naia was certain her friends were
sick of her excitement after the first day
of her jumping around like a child after
finding out that the plaza was to be
opened soon. How silly of her to act so
immaturely like that, but, to her, it was a
justifiable reason. There’s nothing Naia
likes more than unnecessary shopping.
“Stupid clock,” she muttered quietly in
an agitated tone.
After crossing the street, a faint
vibration tickled Naia’s side. Reaching
into her purse, she pulled out her
cellphone. It was Robin. Her thumb
hovered hesitantly above the reject
button, she was already thinking about
how her ears would bleed if she picked
up. Sighing, the girl reluctantly tapped
the accept button and cautiously held
the phone up to her ear, leaving a gap as
a precaution. Sure enough, she heard a
boisterous voice blaring on the other
end, making her cringe.
The girl realized that she left her
television on. It was muted but the
subtitles were displayed across the
bottom of the screen. It seemed that
they were going on about the newly
appointed president’s sudden treaty
with Terra, the city that’s on the earth.
This was important because it would
allow Skaia, the sky city, to make more
efficient ways to reach the ground. The
question is why the new, mysterious
president decided to do this now after
many years of Skaia being basically
isolated from others? It would be
strange being on solid ground, especially
since Naia’s been living in Skaia since
she was born.
“I guess we’ll never know,” she
presumed and left it at that, turning off
the TV.
“Omg, you’ll never guess what, Nai!
You’ll never guess!” Robin exclaimed
erratically, her emotions easy to read.
“What? What is it?” Naia mumbled in
response while carefully shifting to the
side of the crowded sidewalk. The
capital city always seemed to be
bustling, no matter what time of day it
happened to be. Naia could just barely
hear her friend sigh.
“You’re supposed to guess! Anyways, I
totally just got a bonus from my boss!
You know what that means, right...?”
She asked a bit more calmly.
“Um­­” Naia began, only to be cut off by
even more screeching. “That means I get
to go shopping! This is huge! I’m totally
going to that new mall later, weren’t you
going, too?! Oh well, it doesn’t matter.
But I’m pretty sure I’ll see your face in
the crowd. I’m sure of it. Anyways, I
gotta go...my boss is watching my every
move. Bye!”
And with that, the headache of a phone
call was over. Still, Naia felt a bit sad
that she didn’t get to say bye, but it
didn’t matter. Before she realized it,
Naia had arrived at the mall. All she had
to do was cross the street now. She
turned fully towards the usually busy
road only to find it busier than usual,
mostly because of all the hype the new
building was causing. Wanting to start
shopping as quickly as possible, the girl
dashed across the road just as the walk
timer hit zero.
Reckless? Maybe. Worth it? Definitely.
She sighed softly to herself. Sometimes
she even worried herself, despite her
efforts to remain composed. Shaking the
thoughts from her head, Naia then
proceeded to make her way to the highly
esteemed shopping center. A smile
formed on her lips just from gazing
upon the building itself. She already
found herself gawking at a dress she
happened to see in the window. Calming
herself down, the blonde, filled with
aplomb, took to the entrance one step at
a time to keep herself from running in
with all her might. She was quite chuffed
with herself to have made it this far.
Being so far into thought, the girl
failed to take note of all that was going
on around her. Her focus, however, was
broken as someone yelled aloud, “Watch
out!”
Slam.
She never saw it coming. The motorcycle
came out of nowhere, it seemed. The
impact wasn’t as bad as it probably
appeared. Holding her head, Naia
glanced upwards only to see a hand
extended out towards her, she assumed.
She squinted, trying to attach a face to
the hand, but without any luck. The sun
just happened to be situated right
behind whoever was trying to help her
up. Nevertheless, she gingerly clasped
her hand into the other’s, able to get
onto her feet with the extra aid. Once
up, she instantly took a few steps back to
find out who exactly made the decision
to aid her. The girl most definitely
noticed the bright red helmet and the
masculine face underneath it as he
“That’s got to be the person who hit
me...!”
She looked down at her clothes, her eyes
fixated onto the small, crimson stain
that instantly appeared. “What is that?”
she worriedly thought to herself. “Is
that...blood?” Naia touched her nose
only to confirm her worries. She couldn’t
help but feel infuriated.
“Hey, I’m really sorry about that. I’m
Morgan, by the way,” the male
introduced himself.
“How could you be so careless?!” she
shouted at Morgan, ignoring his
introduction.
Just before he could react to her
outburst, a loud explosion could be
heard not too far from where the two
were standing. Anyone could see that it
came from the mall since there now was
smoke rising from its crumbling core
and people running out and screaming
while the ambulance began to arrive. It
was truly a frightening sight. Naia had
almost walked into there. Try as she
might, she could not wrap her head
around the situation. Before she knew it,
Morgan had pulled her onto his
motorcycle and was riding away from all
the commotion. Coming to her senses,
Naia knew exactly what to do, at least
she hoped she knew what she was doing.
“Go to city hall!” she cried out
frantically.
“Wait? Why? We need to go somewhe­­”
Morgan was cut off before he could even
finish.
“No! Just go, I know what I’m doing!”
Morgan reluctantly complied, making a
turn towards city hall. Once there, Naia,
completely forgetting about her bloody
nose, realized how bloody she appeared.
“At least it’s dry,” she mumbled
solemnly. It was her favorite dress. But
she had to get that out of her mind now
since it was frivolous and distracting.
She slowly inched her way towards the
doors, Morgan close behind her, a little
nervous about all the people who were
rushing out. As soon as Naia pushed
through the doors of the executive office,
she thought it was empty. “So you’ve
finally arrived,” a feminine suddenly
voice sounded from across the room,
behind the chair making Naia jump a
few steps back.
“Did you see what I did with the new
mall? Exciting, isn’t it?” the voice spoke
again before turning the chair to face the
two.
Naia’s stomach dropped once she
realized who it was.
“R­Robin...? B­But...but why?” the
blonde barely managed out.
“Why? Because why get a new job when
you can’t have a little fun? Oh, and that
bonus I got was from Terra. I handed
over Skaia in that ‘treaty.’ Just thought
I’d let you know since you’re my friend
and all. Skaia’s a goner, sorry you didn’t
get to go shopping, though,” Robin
explained with an innocent yet blood
curdling smile.
Naia then watched as Robin get
safely taken away. She didn’t think it
would end like this.
Makaylee
Makaylee Stanton
Artwork
For You
Tatum Pagel
Poetry
Quiet and smart,
Attentive and caring
As bright as the summer sky,
The smile she's wearing.
She wears it all day,
She wears it all night
To protect the others,
From anxiety and fright.
She lifts her head high,
Although she is down,
The others don't know;
The smile was once a frown.
Quiet and smart,
Attentive and caring;
As bright as the summer sky,
The smile she's wearing.
She did it for you,
As long as you're alright;
Nothing else matters,
She can sleep tonight.
When she wakes up,
She does it again,
While walking in the street;
She notices a friend.
What a terrible sight,
There's a man in the rear,
He's holding a gun;
And the friend is near.
He lifts up his arms,
And aims for her head,
The bullets went flying;
But the friend is not dead.
The girl with the smile,
Ran as fast as she could
To block this here bullet,
We all knew she would.
Tatum
Tatum Pagel
Artwork
Anxious Thoughts Must Be Stopped
Janai Busby
Poetry
Again and again,
I wanted so badly for it to end,
The anxious thoughts and sleepless nights,
Days and nights filled with fright,
Hurting and crying,
Praying and trying,
Impossible to escape the haunted thoughts,
My ears ring with every thought,
Heart fraught with deepest regrets,
Ghostly thoughts haunt with no fret,
Anxiety so strong and bold,
Slowly and seamlessly crushing my soul,
Frightened as a child,
These thoughts mustn't be taken as mild,
Ending these thoughts is not cowardice,
It’s begging and pleading for a place of bliss,
My mind gave the behest,
“End these thoughts, you are depressed!”
I’ve had these thoughts a billion times,
My voice silent like a mime,
I took the knife in my hands,
I let it do its deadly dance,
The crimson blood flowed like a river,
My shirt wet with blood as I start to quiver,
The pain non-existent as I finally found peace,
Time to rest, time to sleep,
My throat slit open with no regret,
Ghostly thoughts haunt to death,
I am dead no wrong in that,
Just know I’m gone and never coming back.
Ice Cream Mural
Moon Pham
Artwork
My Shed
Tehya Hubbert
Poetry
The sun rises up as I awake with a wide smile on my face.
“Finally it is morning,” I thought to myself as my heart started to race.
With every thump,
I jump out of bed.
With no hesitation,
I slip on my shoes
And run out to the shed.
“Why,” You might ask, “to the shed would you run?”
Well of course because in there is all the fun!
And how, might you ask, would there be fun in there?
All I can say is that there is plenty to share!
So come, you may, and invite all your friends.
To the shed where the fun never ends
Where houses can talk,
And cars only walk,
And the ships will sing,
To the point where your ears will ring.
The land of the impossible lies inside my shed.
However,
I think the whole Idea just popped into my head.
Because when I woke up, I was still in my bed.
Fluffy Puppy
Calista Preval
Artwork
Love Letter to my Fifteen-Year-Old Self
Christie Angrand
Poetry
Fifteen year old Christie,
where do I even begin?
Covering up who you truly are for the
big win.
It’s a shame you’ve spent countless days
contemplating what you’re worth,
wasting time on others
who cannot even be bothered
to put your emotions first.
Remember all those kids who
made fun of you over the dumbest
things.
It will be okay because since those days
you’ll lose weight and they’ll find
something else to make fun of anyway.
I’m sorry that you’ve spent your
countless nights
thinking they were a mistake.
I give props to your Mom who
carried you for seven months
and didn’t listen to the doctor
who told her to get an abortion for her
health’s sake.
I know she makes life jaded
and she’s always putting you to the test,
but never forget that the reason you’re
no fool
is because mama raised you best.
Don’t give into drugs and just put
the bottles down; I don’t want you you
to end up
like your uncle did, You’re an organ
donor now.
One day you’ll find someone who’s crazy
about you,
and is also aware of your existence,
unlike Justin Bieber,
and he won’t mind that your stories on
snapchat are too long
and he’ll tell you you're his favorite
viner.
But in the meantime, I promise that
when you
see the bright shining light,
when you get to the other side,
it’ll will be worth all your darkest times.
Forgive those who hurt you,
take away the life lessons that they
taught you,
stop looking in the mirror wanting to
shatter it
because there were too many things you
could find that were wrong.
I just want you to know that you’ll grow
to
love yourself and it’s a rough past
that makes a real women strong.
Many things have changed since then,
considering that I’m now that I’m older
now.
I genuinely love you for who you are.
including your never ending list of
flaws.
Love,
-Seventeen-year-old Christie
Haiti
Lexie Louis
Artwork
The Secret City
Calista Preval & Lexie Louis
Short Story
Flashy lights and deafening
music, the salty smell of sweat that she
could taste on the tip of her tongue and
the lingering taste of the shot she just
downed, the feel of burning sweaty
bodies pressed against her own and just
the thrill of it all; that’s why she went
every night. For the rush that she got and
the pleasure of being able to let go.
Because if Alabaster wasn’t dancing her
time away she would get into a mess that
would ruin her family's image or at least
that’s what her mother was always
telling her. She was always saying that
“kids will poke their nose where it
shouldn’t be if they aren’t preoccupied
with something or another.”
Alabaster dragged her tired limbs
from the party that she had attended the
night before and slowly made the
familiar trek down the street and to her
home. Although this was a regular
occurrence for her, although she had
been down this street numerous times
throughout the year, she had never
noticed the little arch of a sewage drain
placed against the sidewalk. Perhaps the
only reason she even noticed it that day
was because of the little fingers wrapped
around it’s bars and the eyes that stared
hard at her through matted curls
covering with a filthy hat, admiring her.
She became curious about what goes on
down in the sewer so she ran home to
her parents to ask but as usual they were
“too busy to deal with her nonsense.”
She spent all night thinking about that
little girl, she couldn’t get the image of
those sad eyes shadowed by dark bags
and hopelessness out of her mind, they
haunted her. “Is she the only person
down there? What’s she doing down
there?” Alabaster thought. She couldn’t
get to sleep that night, she waited for her
parents to wake up so she could possibly
get some answers.
“Mom!” she called up the stairs.
“Yes, dear.” Her mother replied
once she and her father reached the
kitchen where she was seated.
“Yesterday I saw a little girl
down in the sewers. She was all alone.
We should help her her. I think she
might be trapped.”
“No. That’s where she belongs.”
Her mother waves her hand
dismissively. “Now get ready for
school.” Refusing to be disheartened by
her mother’s indifference, she runs up to
her room and decides to do some
research on ways to enter the sewers.
She finds lots of different forums with
different locations stated but the most
common was a building off route 93.
The building was said to lead directly
into the sewer system. She wrote down
the directions then cleared her history so
her parents wouldn’t find out. She
grabbed her backpack, ran down the
stairs then set out on foot to the building.
After a long walk, she finally reached
her destination and set foot inside. It was
a huge office building. The rough and
intimidating appearance of the building
kept people from approaching. She
snuck into the elevator and rode it down,
“A Thousand Miles” playing in the
background. She began singing “making
my way downtown” just as the elevator
stopped and the doors open.
What she saw baffled her. Before
Alabaster lay a whole other world. They
all wore the same hopeless look on their
dirt-lined faces. As she stepped out into
this depressed city she discovered that
the people living there where much like
slaves. They were either chained down
to workstations or doing backbreaking
labor. On her venture through the city
she saw the same little girl she had
spotted admiring her just a day ago. She
followed the girl until she mustered up
the courage to speak with her.
When she finally got the chance
she asked the girl what all the people
were doing down there and the little girl
replied, “It’s the land of the poor, don’t
you know?”
She repeated, “The land of the
poor? How did this happen?”
The little girl replied and said
“The people from above didn’t want to
stain their pretty cities with the filth of
the poor so they shunned us and moved
us down here where they could no
longer see us.”
“This isn’t okay!” She said as she
paced along the sidewalk. “How could
they just leave you all here?” She was
furious. “How could people be so cruel?
How could they just
ignore such a problem?” The little girl
just looked at her looked at her as though
she were crazy and continued with what
she was doing before Alabaster
continued on with what she was doing.
Alabaster made her way back to
the surface, determined to find a way to
help the people trapped below in a
situation they couldn’t control.
African Queen
Johanna Thermitus
Artwork
JUST DO YOU CONTEST WINNERS
Thank you to all who participated in the contest. If you didn’t win then good luck next
time!
Entry #1
Michaela Lenane
Poetry
Do you ever find yourself wondering,
Wondering, what if I could just change one thing,
What would life be like if I were prettier, smarter, somehow rearranged,
My list is always really long, a list of everything I’d love to change.
If only I could pick who I wanted to be at birth,
If it were up to me, I’d be the smartest, prettiest, funniest person on Earth!
But then you go deeper into thought,
Would I then be a person without a heart?
Would I then live the life that I live now?
Can I still keep my friends and things somehow?
The answer is simple, you are who you are,
You cannot pick and choice, not everyone can be a famous superstar,
But we can be just as happy by being who we are inside,
Everything that I have been through has shaped me my whole life,
And I would not be the strong and independent person I am today,
Everything I've ever known, or experienced would be taken away,
Without the bad, I wouldn't appreciate the great things that life has to offer,
And even though I’m not the smartest nor bravest, I’m still bound to prosper.
Entry #2
Shannon Flaherty
Poetry
Breathe. You were given your life for a reason. Take every minute as if it were your last.
Encroach slowly, and deeply on the things that you love, and distance yourself from the
things that you don't. Distinguish love and passion, remember and bare the difference.
Love as if you had never loved before, even if you aren't loved back. Give even though
unfortunately sometimes you won't receive. Reminisce on memories, both good and bad
because they have helped you become who you are. Not every word spoken is positive
and not every opinion given will make you feel worthy but indulge in the people who
make you feel as though you belong. Take in, and give out the advice you believe can give
someone that extra will to face their issue with clear eyes and an open heart. Remember
a few things. Have faith, resemble happiness, conquer life's greatest obstacles because
overall, you are your worst enemy and your own best friend. Be who you want to be, and
not who everyone else wants. Live every day as if it were your last. Breathe. Just do you.
Paper Planes Magazine
Spring 2015
Issue 2
Editor-in-Chief
Maya K. Alexander
Head of Writing
Zeline Bartolome
Head of Art
Isabelle Resil
Head of Social Media
Katherine Pinzon
Graphic Designers
Tehya Hubbert
Calista Preval
Editors
Caitlin Darcy
Susana Viasus
Amy Do
Meg Harrington
Stefania D’Amato
Savannah Spivey
Sheila Duplan
Cover
“Summer Ocean”
Katherine Pinzon
Tehya Hubbert
Isabelle Resil
Photography & Computer Art
Logo
“Paper Planes Logo”
Calista Preval
Computer Art
Send Submissions to:
paperplanes@esaboston.com
Questions?
Please find a member of the Literary Magazine or contact us by email.