Just Write Summer 2010
I Know I Want I Am
By Brooke
I want to feel what isn’t there
I want to see what’s invisible
I want to hear the silence
I want to smell what no one else can.
But I know that I am not a superhero
I know my senses are weak
And I know the world is full of mystery.
But I am only human.
I am only one step behind the other guy
And I am only one step away from everything
And I know I am what I want.
Sounds of the Slaughter House
By Kaixin
The squeal of the pig getting slaughtered spiked up my fear as, I waited for the bloody pig to be brought in. I waited, but instead of seeing a cut up pig, I heard another squeal. It was loud and gruesome. The high pitched sound that was awful. This time when the pig got slaughtered I ran from the slaughter house and into the farm. Away from the sound and the bloody axe.
The farm was quiet, nearly silent. Only small rustling sounds disrupted the silence. After a long time sitting on the stool I started to get restless. Shifting around and looking around, I suddenly heard a squeal, so soft and quiet I thought my ears were hearing things. I looked around. Then I saw a small pink pig. So small it could have fit in the palm of my hand. It seemed to be crying, making soft gurgling sounds. A poor creature without its mother.
I got fired from my job at the pig slaughter house. To tell the truth I was really pretty glad. The awful sounds I heard there was terrible. The drip of blood on the counters, the cry of the small motherless baby pig, and the squeal of a pig getting its head cut off was awful.
To be continued……..
Sleepwalker 1
By Hannah
I inhaled the sea air as another blast of ocean spray cascaded over me. The violent air whipped around me, blowing my hair in every which way. Thunder boomed above me, making the ground below me shake. A broad grin broke across my face, and I took a step forward. Gathering myself, I kicked back my right foot, and jumped. 1 foot...2 feet...3 feet, going down now. I looked at the the murky black waves that crashed into the seemingly endless ocean, looking like they were waiting for me.
I plunged into the icy ocean. The cold water consumed me, making me shake. I unwillingly opened my eyes, searching. I only saw pitch black water, and as another wave came, I was smashed into the rocks. I took a breath, and then dived back under. I closed my eyes, and felt the sea floor. This was like finding a needle in a haystack. I dug my fingers into the sand and gravel, and another wave pushed me back. I came up for a breath, only to see lightning zap the rocks in front of me. I jumped back in, unaware that I was in great risk of getting hypothermia. Then, I felt something smooth. I pulled it up above water. The soft black leather felt warm on my fingers. I crawled up onto the rocks, pushing it into my pocket. When I arrived back on the boardwalk I jumped off of, I took it out again and opened it up. There was my fifteen dollars, my library card, a picture of my dog, and my Target gift card. I had found my wallet!
The following morning I looked at the paper. There was a picture of a girl soaking wet with gravel in her hair, and covered with what looked like seaweed, in a Target. The headline read: GIRL GOES SHOPPING AFTER JUMPING IN OCEAN, OFFICIALS DEEM INSANE. I laughed, who in the world would be so stupid. Then, I looked closer at the picture. Wait, that girl was....me!
“What?!?” I exclaimed. I had no memory of jumping in a lake and going to Target. Last night, I heated up some leftover pasta, and then went to bed! “Oh...” I huffed. I realized that I probably did jump in a lake. Well, not consciously.
A few months back I realized I was a sleepwalker. Apparently I had been shoplifting at a 24 hour Walgreens, when I had no memory of it. Later, when I was in the midst of being arrested, the cashier claimed he tried to talk to me, but I ignored him, like a zombie. The following week I had gone to everyone's house on my block singing christmas carols. Now, I was jumping in oceans.
I decided I wouldn't sleep. I went to the store and bought about sixty energy drinks. No sleep would be fine as long as I drank...five of these a day. I downed a Red Bull at about eleven at night, and watched a movie on my laptop. This would work.
It had been exactly two weeks of no sleep when I looked in the mirror. My eyes were red, and I had practically black circles under my eyes. My face was pale, almost white. My trash can was bursting with empty energy drink cans, and I was broke because I ordered so many movies. I was a mess. I had to sleep. I went to bed that night, and didn't wake up until three days had passed.
Of course, when I woke I was in a nightclub. The lights burned my eyes, the different colors flashed. The strong smell of beer flooded the room. I heard screaming. Lots of screaming. A loud noise ripped through my ears. I was dizzy, I could barely stand up. Loud, loud, loud. I collected myself, and stood. There, I saw about one hundred people, screaming and shouting. I looked down. I was on a stage. I looked back. There was a scary looking guy holding a guitar. His ears had giant rings in them, and it looks like they stretched out about a few inches too long. He banged on his guitar and yelled something at me. It was too loud. My vision was fading. There were people. Noises. Then, I fainted.
When I woke, I was in a room. I was on a couch. The room was lit by three large florescent lights that beamed down on me. I looked around. Not much else was in the room. There was a side table, a mirror, and the couch I sat on. Where was I? I looked in the mirror, and yelped. I had pierced my nose, and it had a large ring in it. My eyes were thick with smudged eyeliner. My hair was messy, my eyes were blood shot. I wore a ripped black shirt. I opened the door, and loud music blasted in my ears. I was in a nightclub. People were screaming and shouting. Someone saw me. It was the guy with the earrings. He yelled at me and grabbed my arm, pulling me up stairs and onto the stage. “GO!” He screamed. “I have to get out of here.” I told him sternly. “You can't leave without singing again!!!” He demanded, and shoved a microphone in my face. People started screaming. “You don't understand I have to leave!” I told him. “NOPE!” He yelled. I ran down the stairs and into the screaming mob. I had to find a door. “Where are you going?!?” He yelled again. I found an exit, and ran.
That day, I learned three things. Nose piercings really hurt. I had basically been singing in a nightclub for three days straight. And, I had to get away from myself. I needed to go someplace where I couldn't harm myself, or anyone else. I needed to go somewhere far away. Somewhere where no one would find me, and I could find no one.
Sleepwalker 2
When you Google uninhabited islands, the first thing that comes up is an alphabetical Wikipedia list of islands. It starts with Alegranza island, in Spain, and ends with Vostok island in the middle of the pacific. Then, I searched ferry or cruise routes crossing some of those islands. Almost none of the islands on the list matched those of the ship routes. All, except for the Pitcairn Islands, in the South Pacific. As for the population, there were about fifty people. Easy enough to avoid.
After a bit of researching, I decided the Pitcairn Islands would be perfect. All very close to each other, except for Ducie. The route the cruise would be taking would be from the Puget in Seattle into the south Pacific ocean, sailing about three miles away from the Pitcairn Islands, and into Punta Arenas!
I toyed with a piece of my hair as I thought of what living on a deserted island until I could get my sleepwalking in control would be like. No one to talk to, no one to yell to for help. I sharp pang of fear hit me, then consumed me. I shook as I thought. I blinked, and made myself snap out of it. Then, I began to cry. I sobbed hard, wishing I was normal, and could live a normal life. But that had never been the case, and never could be.
That night, I reluctantly went to bed. When I woke, I had a peanut butter sandwich in my hair, my stereo was playing music with the volume bumped up, and my neighbor was banging on my window. I quickly shut off my stereo, then found that the plug was tied to...wait, what was that? I saw a little furry lump sitting at the edge of my bed, with my stereo plug wrapped in a bow around its head. “Woof!” It howled as I touched it. My neighbor banged on my window again. “MY DOG!” He yelled. He was wearing red plaid boxers and a stained undershirt. Then, I realized that furry lump was his dog. I quickly untied the plug, and handed the small dog to my neighbor through the window. The terrier yipped at me , and buried his nose in his owners armpit. He screamed one last cuss word at me, then stomped away. I looked in my mirror. The peanut butter sandwich had worked its way into the roots of my hair. I carefully picked it up, only to see that the sandwich had been half eaten. Yuck.
After the last of the peanut butter was washed out of my hair, I went back to thinking. Now, I really had to get away from here. I got back on the cruise site, and purchased my ticket. Then, I looked at the leave date. It left tomorrow. Great, I had a day to pack.
I packed everything I might need. I looked at my stuffed suitcase, realizing all this would really happen. I would really be living on an uninhabited island. Am I crazy? Or am I just a perfectionist? I pushed those thoughts away and went to make myself a peanut butter sandwich. As I spread the creamy peanut butter on my piece of toast, I wondered what adventure lay before me.
As I slept that night, I wasn't worried about sleepwalking, because my door had a child-proof lock on it, more like adult -proof, and nothing was in my tiny apartment. I heard the busy cars outside my window. I saw their headlights through the dirty glass. I felt my soft sheets, for the maybe the last time. I smelled the rain, as it started to pour outside. Then, as easily as that, I fell asleep.
That night I dreamt of myself. I was not myself, but I was. I viewed myself at an aerial view. I saw my sleeping face, my dark curly hair in a tangled mess, my eyes shut tight, my lips slightly parted. Then, I saw myself get up, pushing the sheets off me. My blue eyes were glazed over, almost as if I was blind. “No!” I tried to shout, but my voice cracked as I spoke. I saw myself walk down the stairs, into my kitchen. I fussed, but realized I could not see myself. I did not exist in this world, but I did. I saw my hands on the doorknob, and I twisted it. I strained to stop myself, to yell, to move, but alas, I could not. My mind was separated from my body. My conscious body was merely a thought moving in the thin air, while my physical body existed in real life. I saw myself go out the door, but I did not follow. I tried to move, but could not see beyond the door. I heard my footsteps on the sidewalk outside. The sound of them disappeared slowly, and I assumed I had gone elsewhere. I tried to scream for myself, yet I could not, because I had no body to do it for me. I was nothing, just a thought. I was powerless, helpless, without myself.
Hate Me
By Kelsea
He had to get out. She was hurting him although she didn’t know it.
“Creed, wait, please – I want to talk about this. You can’t just leave me like this. PLEASE! Let’s take your back pack back up our room and talk about this before you just take off like this. CREED! Don’t leave me! You can’t leave me…Viktor..? How could you do this to me?”
I didn’t even turn around and tell her goodbye because I knew that the second I looked at her that I wouldn’t be able to leave her. It was just better this way. It just was too difficult to be together with her. I wasn’t a good person and I never would be no matter what she said or thought. I…I had hit her…I had clenched my fist and slammed it into the face I had kissed so many times and sent only person who gave a s**t flying to the ground to hit it hard on her delicate back; nervous hands shaking as they found the place my hand had been, eyes wide open and afraid, tears falling on the place where the bruise would soon show. And then she had grabbed at his surprised body and in a state of shock he sat down next to her, and she collapsed in his arms. Sobbing uncontrollably she asked him the one question he couldn’t answer over and over in a strained breath of air.
“How could you do this to me?”
The little boy inside of me died and a man took its place as her blue eyes cried and I held her face in my hands. And I knew I had to leave her before I did something worse.
‘Critical’
by Kelsea
Once was a girl
Oh so beautiful,
Sad and pitiful.
Too bad,
We didn’t know
That her wounds were critical.
‘Battle Funk’
by Kelsea
I know.
I want.
I am.
I know that in the end this fight will kill me.
I want to give all I have to tell those bastards they can never control us.
I am the one to end what these a$$ holes started.
I know it will never be the same.
I want to make them cry.
Changes (aka Clowns And Jugglers)
By Josh
Blood tinged furrows of change
Bursting forth on the borders of society
Without warning and
Deceived by a cloak of mystery
Staring face to face with the crossroads between death and freedom
Under the side of twelve chrome plated mountains
Burrowing and furrowing under sheets of defeat
Stumbling and calling calling and falling
Under cobbled paths of victory
Stumbling and calling falling and stumbling
Can't you see I'm under a phase of mystery
Societal fields over grazed and over turned
Over watered and over kept
Churnedband sealed over
By the strong foothold of power
Standing and flying crying and flying
Monuments of war constructed and reconstructed
Hiding and flying flying and hiding
Passing deconstructing and devaluing sails of triumph
Crowded and shrouded shrouded and crowded
Under great tides and winds of secrecy
Shrouded under a hidden
Furrow of mystery
Aging and raging raging and aging
Sculptures of order carved over peoples freewill
Aging and raging raging and aging
Are the monuments of lies towering over peoples eyes
Crumbled and stumbled, stumbled and crumbled
Are rays and seas of harmony
Stumbled over and crumbled over
Are Monuments of freewill clouded over mystery
Fallen and calling calling and falling
Emperors of mercy, victors of harmony
Falling under calling under
Stacked tombs and smoke clogged rings of age
Written and decieved by rage
While blood tinges the alleyways of our tears
Drowned under self consumed fears
Worn and torn are the roads of freedom
Foes search you out
With minds torn and frayed victims of self consumed deprivation
Clowns dance hungrily
Over societal clamored fields of order
Sealed over by twisted metal plates of mystery
Buried under tombs and ruins of secrecy
Kings and queens sit open mouthed staring
Hungrily at peoples eyes
Faring with nothing except themselves
And shrouded clouds of lies
And a plastic sheet of defeat
Rummaging hungrily rummaging secretly
Fallen emperors scour the ground
Looking for a final piece of order
Unwound and bound by past ties of lies
Stumbling and crawling on the sides
Of barren mountains of freewill
Over churned by tides of war and power
Still standing but falling
Order order he bellows out to the court
There's been slaughter and genocide
Genocide and slaughter
And confides of lies taken aback
Justice justice he retorts
Surely can't we look and see the need to change
Are courts of law and monuments of order
That are atop a stack of dirt ridden
Used up lies and gestures
The judge looks up to him intensely and inconsistently
His face covered by scarred markings of age
His eyes dazzled and dancing in rings of ecstasy
Held over by a layer of mystery
For it's to late for us to contemplate our hate
Look now now look
It is too late really it is too late
Look at what we've done look at what we've done
And he falls to ground
Scarred by ecstasy
Fathomed by mystery
Blood drips from broken scarred trees leaves
Smoke scars the open sky
Thieves run empty handed and famished
Through the broken over scarlet red night
Seas of death wash up on the shores of life
Scores and scores of people
Demand answers with violent looks of pain
Rains of mystery drown over in pools of secrecy
Mountains of freewill surmount to nothing
Magnified under pools of sorrow
Only to wake tomorrow
Sanctuary:
By Josh
Where to find me
Can you find me
Sanctuary
Can you see me
Sanctuary
Can you see where freedom lies
Can you see sanctuary
Dancing in your eyes
Can you see me
Where to find me
Can you find me
Sanctuary
Do you know where delight lies
Can you see me
Roaming freely
Gloaming fiercely in your eyes
A Passed Night
By Josh
Desecrated victors of light
Calling out in howls of sorrow
Amidst the insipid night
Waiting for the break of tomorrow
Faint pale orbs descript the sky
Endlessly murmuring and stammering with the collected depths of the night
Hardly passing with the blink of an eye
Disguised behind and advent passing of light
Distilled virtues of whispering wind
Sail across the dawning skies
Putting forth an eclipsed venture
Appearing right between your eyes
Gliding off the echoes of the moon
Absorbed in it's gracious beauty
Speaking to soon
Kept within it's boundaries of mystery
Bones of electricity
Scatter about the fragmented view
Of the awoken night simmering over with misery
For only nothing but a short hue
Dawns highway descripted and tattered
Beyond it is an utmost unknown
Battered and depicted
Alone only for no one
Ribbons of light comfortably ground the night sky
Carefully kept in place
Hurriedly passing by
Face to face in between
Beside the dawning horizon
Gapeless among the fleeting skies
Unknown it is to you
It sits comfortably in your eyes
Awaiting in the skies a moving post of night
Collectedly scours the distance hungrily
As pale insipid discrepancies of light
Descript the cuffs of the sky madly
As the light silently hangs amid in the air
Slowly staying in a kept place
For nothing will it care
Only moving blatantly in it's own race to nowhere
Dusks stands cornered at the sideways of change
Crying out in desperation
Moving only towards it's own range
Put up in the sky for the remaining duration
Standing amongst the sky alone
In an field of deserted beauty
An unknown
In a sky drenched with misery
Crescent shapings of light
Spread out among the surface of the sky
Descripted with overflowing visions of night
Hardly are they passing by
Lipid figures of mist draw past
Daunting the bleak and familiar landscape
For only at last
As it tries to escape
For only a moment does it last
As it moves past
At a speed much to fast
Fallen Roman Empire:
By Josh
A man screaming from his place
Oh take these souls away
And place them in a dirt ridden case
His knees collapse to the ground
Saying who's got me caught in a knot
His elbows themselves out of his eyes
Even though he's waiting to rot
I've got angels dust sprinkled on my toes
Placing spread out knives on my plate
All you are is a fallen roman empire
All we are is a fallen roman empire
I've got dust holes cut between my toes
Broken rig mirrored reflections of days passed
And a repetitive voice whispering in my head
Everything that you need has been said
It's just not who you are or who we are
All you are is a fallen roman empire
All we are is a fallen roman empire
Abstract Impressions
By Josh
Wisps of colored and infinite wind
Swept over the breakings of yesterdays past
Awashed on freedoms shores
In a movement all the more endearing and fast
Sands of time seemingly slip through the cracks
Of the words of age
Written with the advent of passed days
Turn the page turn the page
Below this
Truth lies hidden in it's making
A deserted act of will
Momentary for all the while awaiting its own breaking
Dismay and delusion
Laced beneath the central figures of this essence of truth
A discomfited forgiving an distant foreboding
Held over in an manner all the more sleuth
Of this a cleansed lens of perception
A distilled and kept sense and figure of view
As appears to be
A short and luminous hue
Beyond this
And endless unknown
Left deserted in it's own
In a land all the alone
Just Write Summer 2008
SENIOR SESSION
Class assignment: Write an autobiography from the perspective of one of your most beloved childhood toys.
UNTITLED
by Mr. Anonomous
Their names were Daylen and October, identical twin boys born in April. Their looks were the same, but their personalities could not have been more different.
My name is Fozzy Bear, but I am not a bear anymore. I am nothing but dismembered bits of fuzz, sharing space in a landfill with a pair of soggy bunny slippers. We are the casualties of war.
But, as with all wars, we begin with peace. A sunny summer day, one where bear and slippers absorbed heat while our identical owners ate popsicles behind us. And then. . .October went inside to the Great Bowl and Daylen ate both popsicles. I, Fozzy, was sacrificed by the resident dog in retaliation. Daylen fed the slippers to the Great White Bowl. A trip to the trash can and a truck to the landfill later . . .
The causalities of war.
MY ROPE SWING
by izzie
I am dirty.
Greasy.
Filthy.
The runny fingers of the children have been here,
coated me in their vile decay of growth.
All their raspberries in the backyard and hand holding weigh me down
as I lie from the ceiling.
I gave them joy while they swung on me
three feet off the ground.
They swing,
slipping me between their legs
where they were clean.
The inner thighs of children
clung to me tightly,
Their bodies pressed to me close
trusting me with their lives
and I resent them
their sweet sweet dirtiness.
JUNIOR SESSION
COLLABORATION STORIES
By: Noelle, Logan, Kelsea, and Meloninny
Story #1
Everything I touch turns to gold, including the river that I was playing in . . .hot!!
I suddenly remembered the story of a Greek guy who died of starvation because he could turn everything to gold, “Oh my god!! I’m gonna die! Just like that Greek guy!!
My best friend slapped me across the face, “Snap out of it! You’ll be fine. Someone can feed you ya know.”
“But when my tongue touches the food, the food will turn to gold! Man, just think about KISSING!!”
My friend exploded into laughter.
I didn’t know what to do next, so before I could stop myself, I slapped my friend.
“I’m so sorry!” I yelled
But it was too late. Gold slithered upon her skin, her eyes widened with horror and she became twisted with fear. I tried to help, but then I had an idea! I could sell my solid gold friend! I’d be rich!!
“Thank you!” I yelled to nowhere.
And they all lived happily ever after in wealth.
Story #2
I woke up with a headache. What happened last night? I could remember nothing. I had a tattoo of Ferdinand the Bull and a scar shaped like a club on my stomach. Hunger ripped apart my brain and possessed my stomach. “Flippin barbecue hog!” the words flew out of my mouth before I could restrain it. I decided to survey my surroundings. On my ankle where the initials, “J.J. and K.D.” written in pen. What did that mean? I didn’t know. It really sucked. “Hello! I’m hungry!!” I yelled.
“What’s wrong?” my boyfriend poked his head out. His eyes widened when he looked at me, “Holy Skittles!!”
Only then did I notice the two bumps on the side of my neck.
“Vampires . . .” he whispered.
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