The Moran Stang 2011 version 1
Transcription
The Moran Stang 2011 version 1
The Moran STANG Where Language is Art! Welcome to the 2011 edition of The Stang! The Stang is Moran Middle School’s literary magazine. Students were encouraged to submit any form of writing, opinions, poems, informational articles— literally anything they have written. The unfiltered contributions contained in the magazine reflect the personality of the student body, and many of their ideas, thoughts, hopes and dreams. Also this year, The Stang includes student art work thanks to the help of Mrs. Pelletier. Finally, The Stang contributors would like to thank Mrs. Mueller for helping publish the magazine electronically. Table of Contents Opinions Dreams, Thoughts and Ideas Poetry Student Art Pages 3 21 53 8, 11, 13, 26, 38, 59 What did they say?!? 3 Can We Pull The Asteroid Away? By Caylee Short, Homeroom 303 In two short years, you may face your doom. A fiery chunk of rock will consume the Earth. What if I told you there is a way to save billions of lives, and our big blue planet? Gravity is one of the strongest forces in the universe. It keeps our solar system revolving the way it does, and keeps us planted on Earth’s surface. It keeps building standing instead of floating away and it keeps our cars on the road. Because of the impending disaster, I am proposing to use the natural force Gravity to save our planet from the asteroid soon to hit. The impact of this asteroid will send the Earth up in flames, and make it uninhabitable within twenty-four hours after the asteroid hits us. There are other methods to save us from this disaster, but either ourselves or Earth will be obliterated. My proposal is to send a space craft of some sort into space. Then, it will locate the asteroid. Since asteroids are metallic, there would be an attraction between the space craft and the asteroid. With that being said, the attraction would be used to our benefit. The space craft would pull the asteroid out of our orbit, saving us from harm’s way. There are many great advantages to my proposition. Not only are the species of Earth saved, the natural wonders and beauty of the Earth will be preserved. Over time many great landmarks have been erected on our planet. From the Easter Island Heads, to the Stonehenge, these are priceless artifacts that would be burned to the ground. Another advantage of my idea is that we will not need weapons to destroy it. If we were to destroy the asteroid via missiles, smaller pieces of debris would form, and then we would have an even greater chance of impact, but this time it would be the threat of thousands of chunks of debris and rock. Another positive about my plan is that there would be no need for an underground city. This would be an effective method, but it would take anywhere from ten to fifteen years to dig deep enough into Earth’s crust to have any chance of survival. You would also need to establish laws and a way to have light. With my idea, none of this would be necessary. You would be able to continue your lives in peace. You could continue to enjoy the fresh air. Although my proposal has numerous advantages, there are a few set backs. To perform a mission like this would be extremely costly. You would need to pay the astronauts in charge of the vessel. You would have to pay for the hundreds of gallons of fuel it would take the craft to get that far out into space, and you would have to pay for the materials to build the craft itself. Another drawback would be the possibility that us redirecting the asteroid’s orbit would send it hurtling into another planet. This could disrupt our solar system causing even more trouble for Earth and ourselves. The long term advantage to my plan is the simple fact that we will not have to change the way we live, the things we do, or sacrifice the beauty of our big blue planet. It will be costly, but it will be easy to pay for. Every citizen will have to pay a fine or tax on almost everything, but it will be quick to pay for if everyone pays. My plan will save our planet, ourselves, and nothing will have to change in our everyday lives. 4 Why the Yankees are better than the Red Sox By James Michaud, Homeroom 111 The Yankees are obviously better than the Red Sox. I mean, come on. Twenty seven World Series championships and 40 American League pennants. That’s compared to just 7 championships and 12 pennants. Seriously, the Sox don’t even come in second in terms of championships, 3 behind the St. Louis Cardinals. And not to mention the players. Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio, Yogi Berra, Mickey Mantle. Elston Howard, Reggie Jackson, Ron Guidry, Derek Jeter. Just to name a few. And the Red Sox? Ted Williams, Carl Yastremski are about all they can brag about. Maybe Misters Steriods, Manny Ramirez and Big Papi. Perhaps Jason Varitek, the “Captain”? Not your idea of an all star, is he? And for you Red Sox fans out there, I bet you all could name a couple others that I’ve never heard of. Or most people have. And oh, the countless moments we’ve had. Aaron Boone in 2003. 1927. 1936-1939. 1949-1953. Reggie’s 3 homers. All that stuff plus more than I could ever fit on one page. And I could only think of a few slip ups. Bill Mazeroski’s homer in 1960. OH YAH. We then won the next year. And that 2004 ALCS. Come on, the Yankees felt so bad for those 86 years of misery for you Red Sox fans. Oh, and who’d forget Bill Buckner. 1986. You Red Sox fans came this close. One botched play. But come on, give the guy a break. You could have won Game 7. But you botched that as well. And stop complaining how we “buy” our championships. True, we have the largest payroll in MLB, but you guys are pretty close to our $200 million budget, at $168 million. We just make better decisions on who to get in the offseason Now this excerpt may cause controversy. But I am OK with that. Because I am confident with my opinion. The Yankees are WAY better than the Red Sox. 5 Extra, Extra Read All About It! By Justine McInerney, Homeroom 112 America the Beautiful America the beautiful, truly America is beautiful. Just think what America has to offer from our exquisite education to our outstanding freedom of religion. The United States of America gives you freedom of speech, to stand up for what's right and what you believe in. There are many citizens in America, we come together and connect our dreams, even our most common truths. We all are a family, together as one amazing country. In past times people had trouble standing up for what's right. When we stand together we can accomplish big things like women getting to finally vote and the end of slavery. You can say things no other person said before. Martin Luther King Jr. got the Nobel Prize Award for his breath- taking speech, " I Have a Dream." For example, Barack Obama fights for the future, by helping others with their health care needs. So, they would be healthier from the medication that they were given. Also, without that life changing speech, the future wouldn't be right today. That's why you should stand up for what's right, even if you’re standing alone. Back in the 1700's people didn't have freedom of religion. Now we have separate churches for people. The choice is yours, to decide on what you want. This is a good thing because we wouldn't have any peace in the world. Today we have peace in the world and we can set aside all our differences. Truly, it doesn't matter what religion you are, from head to toe we are unique and that's the only thing that matters. Our country allows everyone to get an education. Around the world, children have no opportunity to attend school. Our teachers take time out to help us understand things and learn. The principals are here to encourage you to give 100% in everything you do. We have enough school supplies, unlike other countries. Children need a good education so they can grow up to be amazing, responsible adults. America is great. People from all over the world travel here to have a better life. To live the American dream. America the beautiful, it is truly a beautiful place to live. 6 How to Play Baseball in the Outfield By James Michaud, Homeroom 111 “Wow!” What a catch! He saved the game!” What if you could have all that glory of playing the outfield? Well here are some tips for you! Playing the outfield is more important than some people think. One play in the outfield could win or lose the game for your team. To be a good outfielder, you have to be quick, attentive, and have good listening skills. But playing the outfield is easy, once you know how! Now let’s play ball! First, you must have the right equipment. You should have a fairly large glove, larger than an infielder’s or pitcher’s glove. Also, I recommend that you get a cap to wear on your head so you don’t get sun in your eyes. Next, you should know the field around you. In other words, know how many steps it is to the wall and where the foul line is. Also, know how far you can cover on a fly ball. Can you cover a vast majority of space? Or maybe you are just better covering a small area? Work out where everyone can cover with the other outfielders so you can place yourself accordingly. Ok, now on to the good stuff. On a base hit thru the infield, the first rule is TO KEEP IT IN FRONT OF YOU. I cannot express how important this is. If a ball gets by you it could be a triple (runners get to third base - or an inside the park homerun a homerun that does not go over the fence). One of the best strategies is to put one knee down on the ground so the ball can’t get by you. When you throw it back to the infield, always hit the cutoff man, who will either be the second baseman or shortstop. After you know how to field a ground ball, let’s learn how to catch a ball in the air. When a fly ball is hit to you, the first step you take is always back. It is always easier to run forward than back to catch the ball. Now when you are under the ball, the first step is to put your hand with the glove up. Some people recommend putting both hands up, but I find this difficult and inconvenient. When you catch the ball, DO NOT hold on to it. Throw it quickly back into the infield so the people on base cannot advance. Again, make sure to always hit the cutoff man. If you drop the ball, don’t sulk or get mad. Run after it and throw it back in. This has been how to play outfield. Hopefully I’ve taught you well enough. Oh, look, batter up! Now go out and play. 7 Be Heard!!!!!!! By Justine McInerney, Homeroom 112 Have you ever wondered what it would be like to stand out? For example, fighting for what you believe in, even if no one is helping you out in the long run. There are many citizens in the world such as, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr., and others. Martin Luther King Jr., fought for segregation to end. Back in his time many people were treated unfairly. His way of telling people how he felt were in his speeches. One of his most famous speeches was "I Have Dream." Today, we have freedom of speech and everyday people aren't afraid to speak out. The Real point is no one could tell you to not be yourself. So remember stand up, shout it, and be heard!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! By Cassie Songer, Homeroom 302 8 The Role of a Teddy Bear By Ashley Farina, Homeroom 303 The feeling of her warm and tender hands rubbing against my stomach. The playful sound of her laughter brings a stealthy smile to my face. Smiling and laughing or crying and screaming, joyfulness always comes into play. As a teddy bear, I am the grateful source of comfort and happiness. My brown, fuzzy fur has been touched by the small tears of a child, but no matter what, she always lets me go with a smile. When she talks to me I wish I could reply and tell her everything is going to be okay. I may not be able to talk or show emotion but I can always be there when someone is in need of a hug. Holding the million of memories of a young girl in just a few little stitches and fabric makes me feel so big although I am physically so small. Paw in hand, we are best friends forever. I was bought as a ten dollar empty hearted stuffed animal and have grown to be a loved one and the beginning of a graceful, tender invisible heart. Although a brain can not be found inside of me, it is those magical moments I bring to the child’s eyes that really count. The job of a teddy bear is the most important role I play! I love it and would not change it for the world. Almost every child shall once have a teddy bear. Despite the color we are all here for the same reason, to be in the arms of a gentle kid. The worst part is when the child grows up and no longer needs us. Although I may not be present with them, I shall always have a special part in their heart. From generation to generation, we are passed on each time more technology advanced. Ignoring our looks and years, some where in this world right this second, is hugging a fuzzy, cuddly teddy bear. 9 2012 BY TREVOR ANGELETTI, HOMEROOM 303 As I go to bed that night thinking about the year 2012 all these thoughts run through my head: will the world really end? Will everyone die of pain and torture? It’s horrible that the fact that all my hard work and everybody else’s will just literally explode. So I got thinking, what can I do to help save the earth? In an effort to save the earth I decided to make everything I do from now on will be “Green” and help save the earth. Also when doing daily routines I will think more, like don’t run the water when I brush my teeth and don’t use multiple water bottles and just use one. These little things add up and make a huge difference. To save the earth from ending in 2012 everybody has to pitch in that way. Little things will make a huge difference. The truth is that everything single thing we do every day has an impact on the planet good or bad. The good news is that as an individual you have the power to control all of your choices. Therefore you should just think twice about the impact you create: from where you live to what you buy, eat, and use to light your home to where and how you vacation, to how you shop or vote, you can have global impact. When you are reading this essay you will probably ask yourself “how am I going to go ‘Green’?” Some ways to improve our environment are use less water, choose eco-friendly clothing, reuse and recycle things and use better transportation and you will help tremendously. Although lots of people don’t always do all these things just do it for yourself because in the long run it’s probably cheaper therefore you get so many benefits out of going “Green.” The choice is yours but if you don’t stop polluting now then you will get treated right back the way you treat the earth. Going green is the small step but it is the first step to solving the problem. 10 By Amanda Richardson, Homeroom 302 11 ♥Days of Our Life♥ By Emily Aimi, Homeroom 304 Have you ever had those days where nothing goes right and you just want to go to bed and hope everything will all just go away? Whether its parents yelling, teachers scolding, or just having too many things to do…you want it all to go away. We’ve also had those days where everything is perfect. There is no homework, you’re not in a fight with anybody and you aren’t doing anything after school, you can just sit down and relax like you’ve never relaxed before. Sometimes people have really good days and sometimes they have really bad days, but today was the worst day of them all. You wake up late and then you have to rush to go catch the bus. You end up missing the bus and your parents start screaming at you because now they’re going to be late for work. Now you are going to get to school late and you miss half of first period so you missed a bunch of notes and the test is tomorrow. Then you are at lunch and things just turn simply awful. Your lunch table starts fighting over for no reason. The bell rings. All that’s running through your mind is “Finally I get to go home and just forget about everything.” The announcements come on…“There is girls softball practice!” Now you won’t get home until 5. When you get home all you have to do is your homework and take a shower. After that you can just go to bed and hope tomorrow is a better day! Do you know those days where everything goes right? Those are the days everybody strives for. When you wake up you actually look really good so you can go back to bed for an hour. YAY!! Your mom says she is going to take you to buy new shoes after school. Now don’t we all just love buying shoes! Your school day is going fantastic because your boyfriend is nice to you, you have no homework and your teachers are not in a teaching mood! All they are doing is joking around! Whether you have a good day or a bad day it’s just a part of life that we all have to get through. Tomorrow is another day, another day to be happy or sad either one but you just have to remember this is your life. You only live once. 12 By Rebecca Fitting, Homeroom 304 13 Being Sick By Katie Reed, Homeroom 303 You go to sleep fine just like any normal night but as soon as you wake up in the morning you feel like you’re about to die. Your throat is scorching, your head is pounding, and you can’t stop the disgusting vomit from coming up; being sick is the absolute worst thing in the world! The worst part of being sick is the puke. No matter what you eat, it just comes right back up with no stopping. It’s horrible when you’re just sitting on the couch, and all of a sudden you feel a weight in your stomach, just exploding out. Your body thrusts forward and vomit comes pouring out of your mouth. The smell is heinous, like rancid rotten meat and rotting flesh mixed together. However, the taste is even worse. While it’s coming out, you taste the gross mixture of everything you have eaten that day plus the acid from your stomach. Even after you throw up that bitter taste burns your throat and mouth for hours. No matter what you do you can’t get rid of the taste, whether its brushing your teeth, chewing gum, or any other method, it never work! Another part of sickness is the excruciating headaches. Just laying down makes it feel like your head is going to fall off, then moving around is a whole other story. As soon as you get up, your head starts pounding and feels like its a thousand pounds. You try to stand up straight but it’s hard and you have to walk very slowly to avoid adding any more pain to the enormous ache that you already have. By the time you sit back down your head is throbbing and it feels like it is going to explode. Your head is like this all day long and you don’t even want to move because it hurts so badly. The last part of being sick is the horrible sore throats. No matter what you do, whether its eat, drink, talk, or nothing at all, your throat is killing you. It feels like there is a blazing fire in there and nothing can put it out. Your whole passageway is filled with this burning sensation and you just want to cry. Then this affects your voice and it sounds raspy every time you talk, and eventually you lose your voice completely. How could anyone in the world enjoy being sick? It is the absolute worst feeling in the whole world and I bet everyone would agree on that. It comes with disgusting vomit, unbearable headaches, and a burning windpipe. Everything about being sick is appalling and nobody likes it at all! Middle School and All its “Glory” By Danny Deleonardo, Homeroom 302 Hallways, classrooms, books, and SLAM! There goes another locker. These things can all be found at your basic middle school. Many people know what happens at a middle school. You learn, eat lunch, and socialize with friends and in some cases get in trouble with them. However not everybody knows what happens in between classes. I am here to tell just that story. As you walk down the hallway of a middle school you realize that not all the action happens in the closed door of the class room. You see the drama of it all unfold right before your eyes and in most cases too much drama. You know the kind of drama that is SO important that it consumes your whole life in a matter of seconds but after it is all said and done with, you look back and all you feel is regret, unhappiness and stupidity? You hear the crying of a heart broken girl after the man in her life that she thought would be hers forever all of a sudden just vanishes into a thing of nothingness. However all she needs to understand is that’s she’s 13 and she has her whole life to find the “one.” You admire the work of that straight A student right in front of you, yet she’s not happy. She is in complete sorrow because people make fun of her for her academic achievement and all the hatred comes out of envy, jealousy and frustration. 15 You see a group of so called “popular” kids who think they’re too cool to give anyone that is not of popular status the time of day. Its sickening right? You see former friends yelling at each other over a stupid topic nether of them knowing they’re throwing away the best friend ship they ever had. However not everything in middle school is bad. You walk a little further and you see a very happy couple, holding hands and both have amiable expressions on their faces. You see a student who in the beginning of the year was struggling to meet pass fail, but now is one of the top students in the class. You also see roaming the halls creating some of the most memorable times of their lives because they didn’t get sucked into the drama of it all. Yes middle school can be an amazing experience in which you as a person will never forget. Or it can be the worst three years of your life. I guess that’s your decision to make. 16 EW School By Tatianna Vanterpool, Homeroom 302 I was born this way; you people just need to learn how to deal with my attitude. Maybe if everything didn’t annoy me so much I might actually be happy for once. The number one thing that just ticks me off is. . . .school. School, school, school, school this school that. I get that school is sooo important but it’s such a pain. All the homework, tests, annoying teachers who won’t leave you alone or give you any space, annoying kids who think they’re so cool, and the children. WHY?! Why does that place have to be so irritating!? You always have to worry about if you’re going to pass or not. I seem to be worrying about that all the time now. If I don’t pass my life becomes a shipwreck, I lose my friends, trust from my parents and everything I have. School always ruins everything. It always gets in the way of my life. Why can’t it just go away?! You know another thing about school is that teachers are always all up in your business. They seriously need to mind their own business. Like whenever I’m working, they’re always there watching you over your shoulder; to me it’s kind of disturbing and annoying. Go look at someone else’s paper. Also I’m one of those kids who has to go to a “different” room for tests and other stuff. I’m ok for going in for tests or quizzes, but getting my assignment pad signed or to do homework, it’s pointless. I don’t see how it’s going to help me because my parents never check anyway, so stop wasting your time. Plus if people see me in there they will think I’m mental and make fun of me. I. . . .hate that. . . .so. . . .much. Another thing that ticks me off is the freaking students. Like those “popular” chicks that dress so disgusting like and make fun of you ‘cause your fat, not pretty, or popular. One . . . they need to take a look at them selves. Quit dressing like a freaking hooker, stop bullying kids ‘cause you got problems in your life an they don’t, haters gonna hate, and stop trying to be like chicks on TV, snooki for example. Seriously . . . it ain't cool yo. Same goes for guys too. When guys try to act all tough by bullying kids or when white boys and Mexicans try to act black. Hahaha no you ain't black quit it. Hmmm what else . . . oh yea . . . homework. Ah homework such a waste of freaking time and why is it such a big part of your grade!? It’s just a freaking piece of paper with like 15 problems on it. It’s just so dumb that’s why I never do it, pffft I got pictures to draw. You know I could just go on for hours telling you how much school stinks but y'all know I might get sent to the office for freaking anger problems, the, school you’re horrible. Happiness By Rachelalice Brosnan, Homeroom 303 Most people absolutely loathe it, but what they don’t understand is that we use it everyday for basic jobs; checking the clock, answering a text, even playing video games. Sadly, a lot of my class mates find it useless, boring, or challenging. It all started on a sweltering hot day of a September afternoon, only the 3rd day of the new school year. My friends and I were already counting down the mere 187 days left until summer break. My sixth grade teacher Mrs. D had instructed us to put our heads on our desk to cool off from the heat. The class did as told, grateful to be able to rest from our first day of real classes. Mrs. D sat upon, what my class found was her favorite seat in the room; a wooden stool. She picked up a blue, green, and black book with what I originally thought to be a boy with hedge clippers on the cover. Later, I would find that the book was a door to a whole different world that I could escape to from all the mayhem that was going on in my life at the time. Many of my friends and I couldn’t stand reading for just a book report, let alone for enjoyment. For the first week, Mrs. D read aloud to us. I tried to tune it out at first and fall asleep. Finding that I was paying more attention to a magical story of a boy born part god, I decided to give up the idea of falling asleep and to pay attention. The next week Mrs. D had enough books to hand out to the class. I never thought I would be this happy and excited to be able to read a new book. I wanted the day to end, but not for the obvious reasons of hating school. I wanted to be able to go home, curl up on the old, worn couch of the grand living room of my mother’s house. I don’t really regret pushing all the other kids out of the way for me to get on my bus, sit down in the back seat, and lose myself in this borrowed book of mine until I was able to get home and enjoy this book the correct way. Looking back, I find that if I changed schools a year earlier, I would have been telling you about Mr. Happy Head and his evil twin, Dr. Rainbow Smile, the Giant Talking Gummy Bear family, not about a young girl who found, even with all the damage going on her life, a little happiness in the least likely of places. The Economy By Ashley Farina, Homeroom 303 Politics… a word kids dread to discuss! When the topic comes up, the conversation soon turns into an unfair argument. We have to realize though, the way our country’s government is changing will affect our generation and many after. Trillions of dollars in debt, taxes going up by 10% and man made disasters killing our earth; what will happen to us when we decide to have a family? Let’s take a look into the future... its 2075 and the news is on. Reports of 200 more animals’ extinct, increase of 50% obesity because of technology taking over, and another cloud of black smoke covers the once beautiful city of San Diego. Everyone’s flying around on his or her floating scooters almost forgetting how to walk. Although we have all these amazing new inventions our country is over 14 trillion dollars in debt! The way human nature is shaping itself; any of these things are bound to happen sooner or later. The decisions our branches of government have been making aren’t the best for us. Let’s look at an example: for some odd reason our country is not drilling for oil in the United States! Gas today, April 8th 2011, is $3.79 going up EVERYDAY, because of the war in Libya and Egypt. By summer 2011 gas will be $5.00 per gallon! We have a lot of gas in the Midwest including; Wyoming, Texas and Mississippi. We are apparently waiting for an ‘emergency’ to use it, but my question is, what clarifies an emergency? 19 Recently our government has shut down. When a government shuts down it means that no one is getting paid that is funded my by governmental funds including, president, Congress, United States police, etc. This happened because how much debt we are in! America is so generous, that we are too generous! We feel the need to get ourselves into way too many situations and problems of other countries and nations, that it gives us problems. We, as a country, have created ourselves so many more enemies than we needed or should even have! Sadly, I do not see Obama or anyone in the country trying to make a change. We need to step up and make a difference! Stop complaining and not doing anything! Don’t sit there and wait for something to happen. Write letters, make phone calls and speak our minds. One day we are going to wake up and have no idea what to do! Speak up and take a stand! 20 21 Beneath A Waterfall Katie Bernard, Homeroom 303 I step into a downfall of chills and bliss. As little tear drop shaped water crystals inch themselves down my body. I can feel the constant pressure of water easing my problems away, soaking every strand of my knotted auburn hair. My mind races in circles, round n’ round, until it focuses on a breeze. A gust giving me goose bumps creating an obstacle course for the thousands of droplets. Breathless, I notice the secrets that the waterfall holds, while standing beneath the mighty stream. The pure color of the mist sprays upon my skin, purifying it. Mixing it with the calming aura. I can smell the sweet scents of flowers and the buzzing of bees, as nature that is nourished by the stream creates a blanket of paradise. I care for this hour like it’s a newborn offspring. Glancing upward I notice the tall wall that the water topples over. It sparkles with glee, and looks as it were made from diamonds. I reach out to feel the wall’s shining surface, it sends me a wave of warmth as my nails gracefully fill the indents and the crevices of the wall. Almost like they were created for me to fill its nooks and crannies. That’s how I would like to repay the kind waterfall. Help the wall behind it becomes just as smooth and soothing as the outside. Forgetting the idea I go back to my tingly sensations of blessedness. I feel domestic, almost like I found my new home. My inspiration of my element covers me with ecstasy and expectance. I want to fill its apprehensions to help thank it for making me feel so alive. I want to grasp this moment and hold it forever in my arms. 22 Apology By Sierra Wilson, Homeroom 303 The screams are becoming louder. The fights are more frequent, threats are more violent. Actions are never thought out anymore. Most moments, words fly out of my mouth, and there is no time to process it! My mind is filled with hate and regret, sadness and fury. Fighting isn’t number one on my “Things to do today” list, but sometimes it’s the only way to get her to understand. She thinks she knows all about me, but she barely knows what goes on when she isn’t there. She isn’t living my life! I know she had to deal with the bullying, that doesn’t mean my life isn’t crazy either. So many things are said to me: threats, names, jokes. Hurt is taking over my entire body. No, not the hurt…the anger. Anger flows through my blood, boils up, and finally bursts out. Words come together in full-blown sentences and are at the tip of my tongue, but stooping to their level will only come back my way and knock me down even more. Sometimes I do say what I feel, other times I just laugh at how they waste their time on me, someone they claim to “hate.” The majority of the time though, I just hold it in and continue like nothing even occurred. 23 When I start with her, things get way out of hand and explode; that’s when all that anger and hurt comes pouring out of me! Seeing her cry, and knowing I am the reason for those tears, is of the most difficult thing to witness. Who knew, words that came out of my mouth, could hurt so much? There are times I feel like there is nothing else to do but run. Run away from the mean girls, the perverted guys, the expressions that can never be taken back once they leave the lips of those who have spoken them. Why do people have to say things like that? They have no idea how it will truly affect someone. I feel responsible for the tension at home. Saying sorry just doesn’t seem like enough, anyone can say it and have no meaning to it whatsoever. It’s lifeless. I wish there was a way to take it all back, and go on as if it never happened in the first place. All I want to say is “Thank you! Thank you for being there for me, putting up with me and everything I have thrown at you, even through the roughest times. I know it’s not easy, but somehow you make it happen. I love you mom and want to give you all the credit for never giving up on me!” 24 Catching a Falling Star By Caylee Short, Homeroom 303 As the ball of light landed in my hand, tingles shot through my spine. The florescence of the star numbed my mind and made me feel like I was floating with it, soaring through the dimly lit sky, seeing the world below as the lone star would. The illumination lifted my spirits and brightened my night. As it sparked and the steam started to fade, the glow was skipping a beat of time until it dissipated into nothingness. No longer was the invigorating shine staring me in my glossy eyes. There was nothing left but a piece of what once shot across the sky in a fiery leap. It fell into my meek hands, but forever stayed in my heart. The soft, evanescent glow appeared brighter than all of the other stars, though it had passed through this earth and its soul disappeared. It had lit up the night sky, filling the other stars with envy, the rage of knowing they were waiting to be caught. They were waiting to take their leap of fate; longing to dance across the night sky into my open arms. That evening, while I lay in bed, desiring the morning light, the smell of stardust filled my dark, empty room, as the thought of the little ray of light was dancing through my dreams. I had lain fast asleep but only until tomorrow’s bright sunshine leaping through the window pane awakes me. My thoughts are waiting until the dusk falls, for another star will make the journey and travel the universe. All of the little girls in this world may dream the wildest dreams of their hair swaying softly in the gentle sea breeze, looking at the ambiance above. They may hope and pray for that one, lone star to come down to earth, to wrap their warm ways around her heart. To have their spirits lifted up to the clouds by the light of the star. Why, I was fortunate, for that girl, the lucky girl, was me. I will dream a lifetime of forever dancing with the star that changed my soul. 25 Whale By Rebecca Fitting, Homeroom 304 26 Untitled By Rachael Renda, Homeroom 304 I walked up the driveway slowly. I kept my eyes plastered on my gray, worn out converse. I made no effort to stop the tears from falling because I knew once I wiped them away they would start again coming faster and harder so I just kept walking. I let my light brown hair cover my face. I reached the door. I stood there on the front step waiting, waiting for what? I don’t know. I guess I thought if I stood there long enough all my problems would get blown away with the piercing wind but after awhile I go inside knowing this wasn’t going away anytime soon. I walk into the garage and take my headphones out of my pocket. I shove them into my ears. I scroll down the list of songs and choose the one I know the most, my favorite. I hear the music flood my ears. The beat is so loud I can feel the vibrations in my ear. As the singer starts, I start. I feel the small strain on my vocal chords and some of the pain in my heart starts to dissolve, almost as if the music is absorbing everything, including me. After awhile into the song I have forgotten everything. I open my eyes and focus on the gray, paint stained concrete floor. If I had a choice to change anything, this is the one thing I would keep the same. No matter how imperfect it may seem, it’s perfect to me. This small garage is the only thing keeping me together, it has no prejudice. Whether I’m black or white, tall or short, fat or skinny, it welcomes me with its bright white walls and it’s worn down floors everyday no matter what. That’s what I love about this place, it may seem small but it’s such a big part of my life. 27 The song comes to an abrupt halt and now that I’ve started singing I don’t want to stop, its almost addicting. I restart the song and belt out the lyrics once more in perfect harmony. I give myself a little grin, I’m proud of myself but I don’t think I could ever admit that, at least out loud. I try not to think of what could happen if I became a singer. That’s my dream; the one thing I want more than anything in the world but I don’t think it will happen, not now…not ever. No matter how hard I try to not think about it, my mind wanders to me on that stage. With my own fans screaming my name so loud my ear drums feel like they’re going to pop, the neon colored signs sticking out in the crowd and meeting all the fans. I’m pulled out of my reverie when the song changes. New tears fill my eyes; they roll down my cheeks stinging until they finally rest at the peak of my lips. I used to be able to hold all my feelings in, but now it seems I just can’t help it. I completely fall apart. I walk into the house dreading it every step of the way. As I walk in the front it feels like a thousand pounds is dropped on my shoulders. So now I drag my feet across the blue stained carpet till I reach the phone. I pick up the phone and call my dad. “Hello?” he asks. “Hi” I say simply. “I’m Home.” “Oh, good. How was your day?” “Fine” I answer blankly. I tell him this lie everyday hoping one day I’ll mean it. “Ok well I’ll be home later.” 28 “Ok. Bye. I love you.” “I love you too. See ya later kiddo!” I hang up the phone wishing I could tell him everything, but I can’t….ever. I lie on my bed facing upwards looking at the white ceiling. I think for awhile but not about anything specific. I think about everything that’s wrong. So I make a list inside my head. Wrong: I miss my mom and my grandmother (mom died when I was 3 years old and my grandmother when I was 10) I rarely see my dad anymore (he works a lot) I cant do anything right anymore I’m different from my friends (too different) I want things I’ll never have I don’t like myself anymore All these things make my life imperfect, they make me imperfect. I wish that I was different but I’m not and I hate it, every moment of it. I’ve never felt like I’ve belonged anywhere…I’m lost. I never knew who I was and I still don’t. I don’t want an ordinary job because I’m not ordinary, I never was. But when I’m in my garage I’m anything but lost, I’m found, I’m home. Even though I may never become a singer, I’m going to keep trying. Anything can happen, but for now my garage is my stage, the paint splatters are my audience and my heart is my voice. It’s me. That’s who I am. 29 Lost Souls By Allie Talarico, Homeroom 304 A brilliant harvest moon hung high in the hazy black sky, its lustrous silver-gold light spilling across the rolling landscape. Below, clusters of tall, bone-like trees clawed at the empty air, silhouetted against the sky. Nestled within the shadowed forest, a small graveyard lay. Crooked headstones protruded from the cold ground, ravaged by weather and time. The moonlight seemed to wash over the cemetery, illuminating the night. Then, slowly, a thin white mist rose from the hard, dirt-packed ground. It coiled around a crumbling stone, perched on the top. The mist stretched and twisted until it took the form of a young woman. She was nearly transparent, but her features were sharp and defined. She had unnaturally bright eyes, and long, wispy hair that framed a pale, heart-shaped face. A crisp autumn breeze rustled the crunched leaves upon the ground, summoning them into the air and sending them in a flurry of colors back to the forest floor. It passed right through her, the ghost’s misty form shimmering in the sudden gust of wind. She stared into the black night sky, a giant void accented by tiny white dots of light that were the stars. Thin, gray clouds parted to reveal the perfectly round full moon, shining down on her. She floated off the headstone to a small village just beyond the trees. The village green bustled with activity. Laughter and conversation echoed through the town. The sweet smell of warm apple cider filled the air. But the ghost was oblivious to it all. She strode to the heart of the excitement. Before her, an immense fire blazed, red-blue flames licking the air. People young and old were gathered around, sharing stories. But the ghost’s attention was drawn away from the crowd, to a young man sitting within the shadows. He was slumped against a tree trunk, elbows on his knees, chin resting in his hands. He stared blankly at the celebration before him. The ghost gazed into his bright sea-green eyes, a single tear sliding down her cheek. She glided to the base of the tree, sitting down next to him. “If only you could see me…” her voice drifted off, the sound easily mistaken for a whisper in the wind. “I wish I could see her face again,” the man murmured, completely unaware of the ghostly form of his lost love sitting right next to him. She sighed. “I love you Lucas,” the ghost breathed, leaving a feather-light kiss on his cheek. She watched the crowd slowly disappear as everyone retired to their warm, safe homes. Lucas was the last to leave. He slowly got up and lumbered over to a small cottage a few paces away. He paused in front of the door, and looked up at the moon. “I love you, Lashya.” The ghost looked up at the sound of her name, eyes resting on Lucas. He stepped inside and was gone. Lashya’s eyes were brimming with tears, and she fled back to the graveyard, seeping into the frost-covered ground once more. And she’ll sleep until the full moon beckons again. BOO!!! Catching a Shooting Star By Joshua Glynn, Homeroom 304 It was one of those nights. Those perfect nights in the midst of autumn. The air was crisp and cool. My parents were visiting my sister at college, meaning the house was mine. I was itching for some fresh air so I slipped on my shoes and took a walk through the woods around my house. When I need some space to think things through, I go to my favorite field, like this particular night. When I arrived at this big clearing, I sprinted to the very center. It was refreshing with the cool wind blowing into my face and making my hair fly backward. Once I got to the middle, I lay down on my back. I gazed into the starry, blue sky and saw many bright stars staring back at me. The sight was so calming that my worries dissipated into thin air. I took a deep breath and took in the aroma of fall. I had just closed my eyes when I noticed something very radiant in the far distance. Whatever this sight was, I could see it through my eyelids. My eyes slowly opened and there I saw it! A shooting star! I had heard stories about shooting stars, how they twinkle in your hand and warm your body. But then it hit me. A shooting star will warm me, but only because it’s a ball of fire! This wasn’t some fairy tale where shooting stars grant you wishes. This was reality where shooting stars grant you death by fire. My eyes shot a glance above me. My heart skipped a beat. As the shooting star enclosed on me, I became frozen. I couldn’t move. I was stuck here, worried… scared… helpless. The star quickly gained on me. I made my best effort to get out of the star’s path. My attempt failed. 32 The Life Changing Game By Justin Mills, Homeroom 304 It was a damp, musty morning in Southington. I was standing in the smelly, wet, brown dirt. My brand new black and white cleats with the shiny metal spikes were covered with this brown gook. I stepped into the box ready to hit the red laces off of the ball. The pitcher, still as a rock, gave me a lethal stare. He elevated his long leg over his chest and released the ball with such power that in the blink of an eye the ball was already in the catcher’s mitt. The deep voiced umpire yelled “strike one.” I was so furious that I tried to relax but it didn’t help. The 3rd base coach was yelling “shake it off, let’s go, you saw one.” I stepped back in the box. This time I was a little calmer. This time my knees were shaking. It wasn’t helping that it was twenty degrees Fahrenheit with the wind blowing ten miles an hour. Once again the pitcher kicked his leg, pulled back the ball and released it. I knew what I was in for. I prepared my self for a called strike two but instead the umpire yelled “ball one, the count now goes one ball, one strike.” “That was a relief,” I thought to myself. I stepped out of the thick, white, powdered lines and my coaches and teammates were cheering me on. I stepped back in the box ready for him to embarrass me. Now every leg kick was faster and his arm angle was changing. At first I thought of a curveball but by the time I finished processing the pitch I felt something hit my elbow. It felt like WWE fighter punched me in the elbow. I look down and there in the mud was the brand new shiny, white ball. The umpire now says “dead ball, batter take your base.” I dropped my black and yellow bat and began a slow jog to first base. When I arrived at first base the coach asked me if I was ok. I replied “yeah, I’m fine.” Everyone was cheering for me. My coach also whispered in my ear “way to wear it.” The rest of the game flew by. We ended up winning the game 5 to 4 in extra innings. After the game in the parking lot I took of my jersey to see if my elbow was black and blue. The pitcher who had hit me was getting ready to leave when out of the clear blue he ran up to me. “Sorry for hitting you.” Those were the only words that came out of his mouth. He was all sweaty. “It’s fine,” I replied. After a couple minutes of talking he had to leave. He sprinted to his car and gave me a friendly wave. I put my bags in the trunk, wiped my face of the sweat and got a drink of Gatorade. I jumped in the car with my family and we were headed home. The Mystery of Anna By Kaylee Sullivan, Homeroom 303 It was Friday, August 24th, 2007. My name is Anna and I am an 11 year old girl who lives in Wichita, Kansas in the middle of Tornado Alley. I was walking home from school on a hot, humid day. The sun was beaming down on me and I could feel the heat with its hot rays on my back. No one was around, streets were quiet and so were the alleys in which I had to walk down in order to get home. I didn’t like to do this because of the creepy man who hid in the dumpster. His name was Mr. Harvey. I only know this because he told me one day when I was walking down the alley. Mr. Harvey was a skinny man who had to be in his late 30s. He had brown hair and blue eyes and I think he must have lost his house and clothes because he lives in the dumpster. The only thing I ever see him wearing is a light blue, worn-down t-shirt that he must have found and a pair of back sweatpants with a bunch of rips in them. 35 Mother said not to stay out too late today because there was a “tornado warning.” But I didn’t go straight home after school. I decided to stop at the park to get away from people. But I stayed too late because I lost track of time and all of a sudden I heard the alarm for the tornado warning and the sky darkened to a bleak gray. The wind picked up and far off in the distance I could see the tornado starting to head our way. I heard something drop behind me so I spun around to see a baseball sized hail had fallen from the sky. As more accumulated I realized that the tornado was coming towards me. But as it got darker I started panicking. I started running and behind me I could see the big black cone spinning incredibly fast. I could see it sweeping up every item and house swirling them around and then spitting the stuff out. I quickly ran to the alley where Mr. Harvey was. He was inside a building trying to get me to come inside. I was panicking so much that I did. Suddenly all I wanted to do was get out of this place, to run and get as far away as possible, but Mr. Harvey wouldn’t let me. As I headed towards the door he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I wanted to scream but the sound wouldn’t come out. 36 All I could hear him saying was “You can’t go out in this storm,” and “I used to have a daughter your age and I miss her very much. I wouldn’t want her going into a storm like this.” I tried to beg Mr. Harvey to let me go but he wouldn’t. I began to shake and a rush of fright hit me. Sitting there just waiting, I looked up to see tears in Mr. Harvey’s eyes. Suddenly, a glossy look took over his face, and he started calling me Ashley. He was saying “Ashley don’t go,” and he kept calling me Ashley. I knew something wasn’t right and I needed to escape. But as I was heading toward the door Mr. Harvey grabbed my legs and held me down. It was a rush of pain that hit me and then all I knew was I was in a whole new world. A whole new world where the sky was a shining deep blue and people were friendly and nice. I ended up in heaven and when people say its beautiful, they’re right. I watched over my parents and wondered if they ever figured out what happened. But as I watched over them, I watched as they had the detectives and cops looking for me. One day when the sun was shining bright my mystery murder was solved. They found my body in the building where I was murdered and they also found Mr. Harvey, who they have been looking for because I'm not the only girl he killed. There were six other girls who I met up in heaven. But from this day forward I'm watching over my family. Never forget that I’m Anna and I was murdered by Mr. Harvey on August 24th, 2007 and don’t ever forget me. 37 By Javier Rolon, Homeroom 109 38 To Catch a Falling Star By Becca Marks, Homeroom 304 I never thought walking home from my neighbor’s house could be so extraordinary. An average moonlit night, the fall air was crisp, not a car in sight. I live in a small, quaint town so there were no street lights. The full moon lit the dusty, dirt road. As I walked briskly home a vision of a blinding light flashed in the sky. At first it appeared to me as an illusion but as it raced towards me I started to feel that nervous pain you get before you’re about to get in trouble with a teacher. The object got closer and closer. I had no self defense against it; there was nothing I could possibly do. Weakly, I stuck my hand out and brainstormed things that could happen to me. You wouldn’t believe the agony I went through waiting for the object to just hit me. Then, instantaneously my body filled with warmth and happiness as I casually looked at my palm. It was a shimmering star. I sank my fingers into all of the crevices of the dazzling object. The only time I have held something so delicate was when I held my baby brother for the first time. This feeling was more than precious. I was just awed with amazement at this creature. I was thinking, was this a dream? If so, I never wanted to wake up. I had truly experienced eternal happiness. The expression on my face was priceless, something I could never duplicate. 39 I started to panic on what I should do with the beautiful piece of art. After debating about it for a couple minutes I decided to bring it home. Before I started to walk again I had to make a plan. There was no way I was telling my parents my discovery. They would take all the credit and I would be left in the dust. Telling my colleagues would be a bad idea too, so I kept this one to myself. As I entered the house I cupped my hands, avoiding my parents of course. The star illuminated my dark room, as I put it in my jewelry box. It started to twinkle as I was placing it down. Then out of the blue it started to elevate, out of my hands, out the window and continued flying upward. I don’t really know what happened because it happened so quickly. I suddenly glanced at the clock and it was 11:11, exactly. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Now, every night I look out my window at 11:11 to see the beautiful glowing star. It wasn’t just any star though; it was my star. 40 THE CHANGE By Sura Celik, Homeroom 120 It was the worst day ever. I wanted to die. Nothing could’ve been worse that this. My life was going to change and I didn’t want that. Not at all. It might not seem big to some people but it did for me. It wasn’t my fault at all really; let me tell you from the start. It all started the morning I went to school. It was orientation day. We were finally going to see our future middle school. I wasn’t the only one excited, my friends were too. Who wouldn’t be? I thought that I was going to the same school as my friends. So when it was time to go to the orientation my teacher pulled me aside with another student. At first I thought I was in trouble but soon I realized it was worse than I thought. My teacher said that I was going to a different school because of where I live. At first I thought it was a joke, but it wasn’t. I couldn’t believe it; it was like a dream-no, a nightmare. I thought it was the worst thing in the world to be apart from my friends in a new school. After the orientation, all my friends came to me and asked where I was and why was I with them? Actually that was the worst part of all. How could I tell them I wasn’t going to the same school as them anymore? I had to. Eventually, I just did tell them. I told them everything and I even cried while I told them. They all felt sad for me too, and I could see their sorrow in their faces. As I think back on that day, I realize the thing I was most mad at was that no one told me the change in the beginning. If someone told me I wouldn’t have gotten myself too caught into going to the same school as my friends. Maybe then my heart wouldn’t have hurt so much and I would have been prepared. Maybe then I would have been ready for the change. 41 Strange By Allie Steupakevich Homeroom 304 I close my eyes. I am in a locker room with rows of lockers that go on forever. Each locker is about a foot high and is a baby blue color against walls that are an off white. Each contain a shiny silver lock with a black and white dial on it. There are a hundred lockers running along my left and right. Suddenly a rush of people flood past me like a wave in the middle of the ocean. A girl calls my name to join her in the middle of this awkward line of lockers and people. She hands me a charcoal grey shirt with blue writing in the right hand corner. She hands me shorts and shoes both fitting perfectly. The shorts, a navy blue color, and the shoes are as white as snow. She leads me into a room with a curtain. Hands hanging on the wall quickly snatch the clothes once in my hand. I then get changed and walk out of the enclosed room. Another girl pulls on me until we stop in front of a door. She lets go of my hand in front of a door with silver push bar. She peeps her head through the small rectangular window located on the door. She pushes it open and leads me inside. It is a gym, brightly lit with lights running across the ceiling. The dirty blonde who pulled me into this place throws a ball quickly in my direction. Out of habit, I duck; she hits the head of a man about 25 years old behind me. His head flies off his shoulders and lands on the ground. His neck is sitting headless. Someone picks up the head and starts kicking it around the gym. The rest of this man is running frantically around this place with nowhere to go, bumping into people and walls every step he takes. The head, trying to lead it through the gym to find it. . But before the body could reach the head, the head is kicked or thrown to someone else. 42 I walk out of the gym and out of this place through the doors directly in front of the gymnasium exit. Buses are lined up outside. Each almost full to capacity. I board one wondering where I am going. It takes me through the town and we end up in front of a large lake or pond. Two people leave the bus. Just like the others they walk into the pond. Like they were voluntarily drowning themselves. Somehow the bus pulls up in front of my house. I go to exit the bus and I am eaten whole by this giant green slimy monster I had not seen previously. I fall to the bottom of what looks to be the same pond the others had walked into. I stand with the others and then a tornado appears wiping out everything between us and it. My eyes open and I am back to reality. I turn off my alarm clock and begin to get ready for my day ahead. BUZZER BEATER By Brandon Rentas, Homeroom 303 Buzzer beater; the most memorable shot in basketball, a buzzer beater is when the ball is released out of your hands before the buzzer sounds signaling the end of the game. A buzzer beater is the best shot of the game. You will always remember it and you never forget it; it won’t matter if you saw it live, or in highlight reels, or if you’re the one who made the shot. I remember one more than any others I saw, because I hit a buzzer beater myself. While I’ve seen a ton of buzzer beaters on television the one for me to remember was when I hit my very own buzzer beater three. It was the most memorable for me because I hit the shot myself and it was to win the game. When the shot went in all I heard was screaming. Everyone was storming the court and that is another reason why I can’t forget it. It’s also the most memorable because if my amazing shot didn’t go in we wouldn’t have gone on to win the tournament. Another reason is the way my team reacted when it went in. Before, I made my amazing buzzer beater three pointer our coach set up a play for me to get the ball and take the last shot of the game. Before we ran our play I looked up at the clock and realized that there were 3 seconds left in the game and we were down by one. The score was 57 to 56. The ref handed my teammate, Chris, the ball and I rolled off the top of the screen (you come off your teammates shoulder) and the ball was released and in the air. As the ball was falling I leaped up and caught it. When I landed I took two dribbles and shot the ball. As the ball was flying in the air I thought of what would happen if I missed this shot, or if I made it. While I was standing there watching the ball soar through the air, I thought of what my grandpa would say. My grandpa is hard on me when I play sports, so I don’t know if it would be a good remark or a bad remark from him. As the ball started to fall I thought and said that “it’s going in,” “it’s going in” and before it came close to the hoop I close my eyes and blocked out the sound of the crowd and listened. KUSH!!! I heard the sound of the ball going through the net and open my eyes to see my teammates jumping and running over to me to celebrate our victory over Durham. 44 DAEMON By Samuel Urban, Homeroom 302 My legs ache, my arms hurt, and I can't remember how long I've been running. Everybody else was caught, and only I remain. They're behind me, and my mind is starting to go blank; It's going to happen. I don't want to hurt them, but I know I won't be able to help it if they touch me. I can't stop, I just can't. If I do, they will catch me and I won't be able to control it. It's coming... I can feel it... they're close... All these things were running through my overtired mind as I ran across a dawn-lit glade with lackeys on my tail. The cold, dry wind was piercing through my thin nylon jacket, leaving me no choice but to run faster with every step to stay warm. With my regular running speed of about 100 miles an hour, I figured the contingent of guards in their Jeeps would eventually run out of gas and I would be free, so I just kept running, and running. So, let me explain my situation. My name is Daemon. I was shipped to this facility when I was just a baby, and was raised as a specimen for some project where they make super humans. My abilities have developed to a simple speed and strength, but there has been a recently emerging ability which I have not quite mastered yet, and I don't think I ever will. Whenever I get extremely angry or nervous, I begin to glow white, my mind goes somewhere far, far away, and if I am touched by anything, I send some sort of pure energy through it, which usually fries it black. I was just recently moved from my original group of fellow super teens to the next grade up, which consists of 18-24 year-olds. As you can probably imagine, I didn't like that very much. All my friends have been talking about getting out of there, but it wasn't possible with the ability restraint doses they gave us every day. The one good thing that came from this transition is that I was held off the ability restraints for three days while I got acquainted with my new fellow supers. I don't know why they think they can do that without getting a mass escape on their hands. The 18-24 group was of about fifteen or sixteen people, most of them twice my size. The day I realized I was residing in the worst place ever to develop a true personality and life, I decided to take the chance and ask the guys if they could help me get us all out of there. I guess they agreed, because soon there were ten guys huddled in a circle, figuring a plan. The plan was simple enough. The three biggest guys would break through the cell door when one of the guards went for break. My part was simply run as fast as I can and take the key from the second guard and unlock as many cells as I could before they call security and they come and chase us all out into the field. Then we all simply run as fast as possible toward... anything but there. The plan was executed the next morning. It was successful, up until the field part. There was some sort of perimeter they had set up for this type of thing. Since I was the runner, I was about 100 feet ahead of the herd of escapees trampling out of the facility. So when I noticed there was a barrier of 3-foot thick reinforced steel rising from a crevasse surrounding the area, I was close enough that I was able to jump over the barrier... but the others were unfortunately left behind. I thought I was all set, but it wasn't even close to over. 45 Inspired By Taylor Fuhr, Homeroom 304 We all have that one person in our life who means the most to us and who treasures our thoughts and words as if our problems were the only ones that matter. Some people think of that person as their best friend. Others may think of them as a boyfriend or girlfriend, husband or wife. I think of that person as my mother. Not a lot of people, especially kids my age, think of their mom as an important character in the movie we are in called life. My mom, Renée Fuhr, is engaging in thought, considerate, and although we have our arguments, she’s always by my side. My mom isn’t only a mother to me, but a best friend. She’s beautiful, outgoing, and also memorable. I can go to her with anything, even if it’s unacceptable of the sweet, affectionate young girl she expects me to be. My mother and I both know that I’m not perfect, but neither is she. We don’t expect each other to be. Each of us has flaws, but the specialty of our relationship is that no matter how embarrassing or delirious we get, we accept each other the way we are. If I didn’t have this woman in my life, I know for a fact that I wouldn’t be who I am today. My family and I have had complications in our lives for the past few years. Despite the fact of these problems, my mother has kept us together as a whole. We have been through the thick and thin, but wherever life takes us next, I know that my mother will keep our family well balanced and under control. She won’t take idiocy from anyone. She may be tiny, but she’s durable and definitely shows a lot of inner strength. 46 Renée’s School of Dance has exceeded its expectations for the past sixteen years, thanks to the owner, my mother. She first opened the dance studio when she got married to my dad, Chris Fuhr, who has also been a tremendous help with running the business. Every year she acquires more students and gives an audience of over three hundred people an admirable performance. She isn’t only an inspiration to me, but to her students who come back each year qualified and excited to start again! Let’s just say that my mom is open to anyone and her advice never fails. All together, my mother is an encouragement to me and whoever crosses her path on their journey through life. Whenever I’m lonely and need someone to talk to, I know she’s always right there with the truthful words that may not always make me feel good, but are never fable. Not everyone knows my mother, but whoever does, and whoever gets the chance to, will be impacted for the rest of their life. Without her, my life would be partly blind, because she gives me the opportunity to see a whole new world of excitement and laughter. Thank you mommy, for all you have done. 47 THE BATTLE FOR SICILY Thomas Simmons, Homeroom 303 July 11, 1943 0830 hours It was morning, warm and sunny. We were in the supply tent. Sarge and I were looking at a map of the area. In the background I heard Brooklyn chatting with Berns and Vic. He claims he took on an entire platoon of French troops in North Africa. But I was there and its not true. Sarge walks over and tells us the situation. We need to move up to “Piano Lupo” and reinforce the 82nd. That’s when they came. A group of five Stukas screamed overhead and dropped a few bombs; blowing up a truck and a half of a small company returning from patrol. Sarge yells to Vic and I to get in the half-track and shoot down the Stukas. I get in the turret just as one comes over the hill. I start firing away and it bursts into flame, plummeting to the ground in front of us. Vic drives to the supply station. I didn’t see the next Stuka in time and it blew up the fuel dump. Immediately we are ordered into the artillery positions. There were a lot more Stukas coming at us. With a little help I shot all the Stukas and protected the artillery. Vic and I get out and join the others ensuring that we make it to Piano Lupo in time. Sarge made me Corporal. It does feel good to help my country, eliminate enemies. But at other times, like when an enemy attacks you with his rifle, and you stab him with your bayonet, it leaves you with a memory that you always have to live with. It is always fun to direct mortar fire like at the Italian convoy I blew up earlier. It was cool to watch one of the huge tanks blow into a bazillion pieces and fall into the water. As the mortars were falling and destroying the convoy, Brooklyn yelled, “That’s right! Run!” You never know what’s going to happen on an average day around here. Some men get killed, some don’t. It’s hard to determine what will happen to you. 48 The Test By Allie Talarico, Homeroom 302 The weather is harsh and gloomy. Wind whips through the air, and rain relentlessly patters the ground. Before me, there is a tall, foreboding building. It rises into the sky, its high peaks piercing the gray clouds. I gulp and suck in a breath that stings my throat. Then, a wrought-iron gate creaks open, allowing me through. I unwillingly enter the building. Inside, the air is cold, causing goose bumps to spring up across my flesh. I walk down a hallway that leads to another hallway, and still another after that. Overhead, lights flicker, at times plunging the halls into darkness. I stride nervously forward. The building appears as though it is void of all life; dark grays color the walls and floors. No sound can be heard except the echo of my own feet as they hit the floor. The sound is awkward in the dead quiet. As I walk, I look around. Doors line the walls, pale light revealing labels that mark the cold metal. The names do not make sense to me; instead I walk on. In my mind I imagine the face of every single one of my family members. I see my parents, my brothers, my cousins, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles….then the image disappears in a cloud of smoke. I gasp softly, tears stinging my eyes at the thought of losing them all. I breathe in deeply, pushing all my thoughts to the back of my head. Finally, I reach the end of the labyrinth of halls. A single door stands at the end; bare, black, no label marking the front. I can feel beads of sweat forming across my forehead and neck as I push on the door. Once I’m inside, the door slams closed, causing me to flinch. I sit down at the single desk that furnishes the room. Within minutes, a cloaked figure emerges from within the shadows and lays a stack of papers before me. He slinks back into the darkness, and although I cannot see him, I know his eyes are on me; watching, waiting. The room is stuffy and dark. Only a lamp above my head provides any light. With a shaky hand, I pick up my pencil. I try to keep my breathing under control. I roll up my sleeves, already damp with perspiration. I stare down at the stack of papers, the black script flowing together in questions that cover the pages. I touch the tip of my pencil to the paper. I know that life or death lies within the papers before me. I know that a handful of wrong questions could cost me my life. So I write. Terrible thoughts cloud my head as I answer question after question. My stomach twists in uncomfortable knots. Then I am done, and I can only wait and see what fate will determine for me. Then I wake up. 49 Fall Ball By Turner French, Homeroom 304 I’m was standing on the pitcher’s mound the highest point on the field. I can feel the breeze wishing, wanting to blow my hat off. In the background, I can see trees, some with leaves, some without. The air is cool and crisp it makes a shiver run down my spine. As I’m in my wind-up the slow cool breeze urges the ball to go harder and faster. As it reaches the plate I can see that it is right down the middle. I hear the umpire yell “steeerike threeee,” and as I walk off the field I smell that smell that only fall can create. As I enter the dugout I rip off my pitcher’s glove in excitement. I feel my steamy sweat freeze in the blink of an eye. I take a rest on the cold metal bench. My best friend Zach steps up to the plate, and I can tell he’s ready to hit. He always takes the first pitch so he can get the feel of the pitcher. It’s a strike. He steps out and takes a deep breath. He puts one foot in the batters box and gets the sign from our coach (Glen). Both feet are in the box now and once again he’s ready to hit. The ball comes zooming out of the pitcher’s hand. Zach’s eyes follow the ball all the way to the barrel of the bat. The ball goes soaring of the left field wall and he’s in for a double! I put on my batting gloves and the dirt scratches against my palms. I know I’m ready to hit, because my heart is racing and my brain can focus on one thing and one thing only: hitting the ball as hard as I possibly can. I walk up to the plate and as soon as I’m ready, the pitcher starts his wind-up. The pitch comes in high and I hear “ball one!” I step out and collect myself for the next pitch. This one I can see is right down the plate so I jump on it and I connect, and when I’m half way through my swing, my hand gets a sting that runs up my arms. When I see that the ball is past the infield and Zach is rounding third, I put my head down and sprint. I make it to first and I can see that Zach made it to home and we had scored our first run. I absorb the cheers of the few fans that are here and I finally feel warmth on this cold fall day. Is It Worth It By Mike P. Perillo, Homeroom 302 It all started on a Saturday night. I was home bored all day, and had made plans with my girlfriend. We decided we wanted to go to Club Crown in New Haven. My friend Raphael’s grandmother was supposed to bring us. She called my mom just to make sure it was ok. My parents didn’t mind until they found out it was in New Haven and not in Middletown like I thought it was. That’s when all hell broke loose. My mom slammed the phone down to the receiver, turned around and gave the dirtiest look ever. “There is no way you’re going to downtown New Haven until 11 at night. You have a better chance of seeing God.” I really didn’t know it was in New Haven. My girlfriend told me Middletown and that’s what I told my parents. I wasn’t trying to lie, but I was trying my best to talk them into letting me go. “I’ll be with mad kids’ ma, nothing will happen. You’re a baby about everything I do,” I said. After we yelled back and forth about the subject, my dad came in, “we both say you’re not going, and what we say goes, got it!?” This made me aggravated and I freaked out. “Stop telling me what to do.” He didn’t take kindly to this at all. We argued more and then out of no where, BOOW! He got me. He got me good. I didn’t stand for it so I pushed him hard. He came back at me, ripping mad. We started rolling on the floor. My mom was very frantic. “Frankie, Frankie! Get down here and break this up!” I heard my older brother Frankie run down the stairs. He tackled my dad. This made me laugh hysterically. There was yelling. It seems dumb to fight about but it was the principle that I never can go out. After all the fighting, hitting, and yelling, I went to my room. This is the maddest I’ve ever been at anyone. He might think that all this is over, but it’s not even close to being over. As I sat in my room thinking of what just happened, it dawned on me, “is it worth fighting back? Should I just blow it off and forget it happened?” As these thoughts crossed my mind, my dad came in. We talked, and talked, and talked. We finished with a hug and realized we were both acting childish. 51 The Big Ride By Jaret Ferraro, Homeroom 304 Everyone remembers the first time they had taken that big step in growing up by taking off their training wheels and attempting to learn how to ride their bike without them. That feeling of joy and excitement of achieving such a big goal was and is such a great experience for everybody. My exciting experience is one I will cherish for the rest of my life, because it really made me feel like I was growing up and that really made me feel good inside. It was a normal bright, sunny summer day in the peaceful campgrounds of Hammonasset State Park in Madison, Connecticut. I had just eaten a satisfying breakfast of eggs and bacon and wanted to go ride my bike around the campground like I usually did with my friends and cousins. I had just put on my shiny, black Bell helmet when, my dad had came up to me with some socket wrenches while telling me not to leave yet. He wanted me to finally take off my training wheels and ride without them, but I refuse. My dad really wanted me to leave my training wheels behind and grow away from them, so he convinced me to take them off. I was extremely nervous at first, but I soon convinced myself to take the chance. I’m glad I went ahead with my decision because I was soon riding on two wheels. My dad quickly had taken off my training wheels, propped me on my bike, told me to pedal, gave me a push, and I was off riding like I’ve been doing it all my life, well close to. It was a thrilling experience, and I was so proud of my accomplishment and so was my dad. I felt like I could achieve anything. I had been wobbly at first, but after riding more, I gained more control, and I was then able to explore the world off biking better than I ever have prior to that moment. I was able to ride my bike longer, faster, and to places that training wheels could never go. I enjoyed that feeling of being free and I will always treasure it. I will always remember that great day when I took that giant step in growing up, by learning to take chances and to let go. I thank my Dad for helping me take that big step, and I will always remember that one bright, sunny morning at Hammonasset State Park where I really learned how to ride a bike. I am a poet and I know it. 53 Who I AM… By Caylee Short, Homeroom 303 Caylee Smiley, positive, cheery, scared inside Daughter of Michele and daughter of Gary Who loves fresh air, music, and a life that varies Afraid of spiders, suffocation, and leaving the world Wants to see the miracle of life, a family of her own, and a safe place away from the hate Future resident beyond the Golden Gate Short 54 A Child’s Love By Dominic Schaedler, Homeroom 303 I was awakened by the warmth of tiny arms. “What’s happening?” I think. Then I see him. He is a little boy taking me away from my pile. He tucks me under his arm and starts running. “Mommy, mommy” he shouts. “What is it Tommy?” she asks. He holds me out to show her. “Can I keep him, mommy? Please?” “I’m sorry honey, no.” A big hole opens in his heart. I can feel the pain. He sulks back to the pile. “Bye teddy,” he says as he puts me back on the pile. So, I sit here waiting to once more be loved by a child. 55 Heartbroken By Amanda Barbieri, Homeroom 304 She was heartbroken Afraid for what would come next The spontaneous tragedy still in her mind Doubtful that it could possibly get any worse The crowd melancholy, standing around her Surrounded As the rain poured down As the pain washed over her again The sorrow, the hurt The end was finally over 56 Me, Myself and I By Kacey Neubauer, Homeroom 304 Kacey Athletic, happy, outgoing Sister of Robbie and Karen Neubauer Who loves to play soccer, dance, and shop Who is afraid of spiders, a falling grade, and the dark Who wants to see Italy, world peace, and my mom and dad in 50 years Resident of Pierson Drive, Wallingford Neubauer Love Struck By Becca Marks, Homeroom 304 The pretty outgoing girl frowned with shame Within minutes she was heartbroken realizing this was all just a game She glanced in the mirror receiving melancholy looks Why can’t love be easy as in all of those childhood books? Her tears now bore her, drenching her face He never truly loved her, just wanted a taste Afraid of her reflection will soon come to be and she lies there thinking; why, why me? 57 Hey!! You!! What’s your name?? By Travis Thuotte, Homeroom 304 Travis. 6ft2, French, Athletic. The Brother of Samantha. Who loves baseball, basketball, and chilling with B-Rentas, Trizzie, and J-MILLZ. Who is afraid of nothing. Who wants to travel Europe, the war to end, and get a college sports scholarship in baseball or basketball. Residence of Connecticut Bombers. Thuotte. 58 By Rebecca Fitting, Homeroom 304 59 What I like about myself… By Nicole Kiernan, Homeroom 304 I like how I can try to hold a grudge but never can. I like how smart I can be when I try. I like being the youngest in my family; I like how my family picks on me. I like how my dad tells me I’m athletic even though I deny it. I like how my brothers and sister tell me I’m a nerd or that I’m two different people when I’m with my friends and out in public. I like how shy I am, how I am afraid of just about every thing. I like how my biggest fear is being alone. I like how I dream about making a change then doubt myself just so I can prove that doubt wrong. I like how I have no idea what my future holds. I like how much I dream, dream about growing up and experiencing the unknown. I like how much I wonder, how I wonder what will happen in the next ten years or ten seconds. I love how I can be whoever and I want to be. 60 Welcome To My World… By Caylee Short, Homeroom 303 The everlasting dreary day Slowly turns to the heartbroken silence of still night Yet as the sun rises beyond the hills The melancholy fades away A new dawn before a new day The doubtfulness just fades away The light in the sky could start a fire The joy of a motionless world The overwhelming beauty of the sky Until the sun’s ember dies I shall lay here surrounded with the spontaneous feel of morn’ And take a breath of air Farewell to my sorrows And welcome to my world… 61