Leaves twirl before my eyes,
as they turn miscellaneous colors in the wind. Carols calling from the glass window fill my ears with delight. Flickering candles dancing on a cake, bring exhilaration to the butterflies in my stomach. Laughing, cheering, and clapping, fond memories I withhold. Crying, hugging, smiling, and comfort, infuse my memories with segments of confusing days In the end all is well. These fond remembrances penetrate my thoughts, leaving myself pristine and pure in my bed of memories.
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Victimizing,
Slaughtering, remorse………None Anyone could be a sacrifice But……. Matty is unique he wanders the bone-chilling area, with dignity. WHY? Even Matty, doesn’t understand. Gasps escape my mouth, leaving my lungs unyielding as I tumble through the seemingly solid wall of underbrush. Enchanted, I think, I should have known. It was her ambush from the very beginning. A new life, a home, and all the candy I could swallow, was just a ploy to get me into her clutches. I stumble over burly roots, and compact rocks springing up out of thin air. She knows where I am. The smell of an apple pie- that would have been my future- grows impeccably strong. A high-pitched, hair-raising cackle grows louder and louder, until I’m sure she’s on my heels. I dare not turn. As I run with a turbo-boost, the landscape becomes a blur of deep greens and browns. I begin to think all hope is lost. The canopy is so dense all light is eliminated, as if luminosity could make a difference. No matter which way I turn, the maze has ensnared my sense of direction. So this is how it ends, I think. I’ll be gone before dusk. But wait, what was that? I reach my index finger to the spot of moisture. Rain, I think, her one weakness. As if a blanket was pulled out from underneath the sky, a torrential downpour takes place. A smile creeps across my face as I turn around to face my captor. A jet-black robe and pointed hat lay in a heap at my feet, as a sickly green smoke rises towards the heavens.
As you progress from childhood to adolescence, and so on towards adulthood, the parts of your body continue to grow and change. Arms get longer, legs grow taller, feet increase in size. However, it can be said that the most important changes stumbled upon during aging are the growth of the mind, and the opening of the eyes to see the surrounding world.
As a child, the goal was to make everything as perfect as possible, though this was left up to the adults that cared for you. Hardships were few and far between, and the biggest worry was making it to the bathroom on time, or hoping Santa didn’t give you coal that year. You may not have realized it at the time, but the first few years of your life are the easiest years you would have for a long, long time. In kindergarten, the conflicts taking place were stupid (yet oh so important at the time) squabbles that, if we were to remember them now, would probably be looked back upon and laughed at. But our eyes were shut tight and covered by our hands then, adamantly refusing to be anything but oblivious to the world around us. First grade, the conflicts decreased in quantity, and increased in significance by an infinitesimal amount. This process continued, so on until around sixth or seventh grade, when the “squabbles” became fights, and the fights became arguments, which progressed into feuds. Even then, most of it was over young, flimsy things such as calculators, homework, projects, sports, et cetera. However, in the minority were the makings of what was to come in the future: rumors, drama, things such as these that we as a group would have to deal with for the rest of our years spent in school, and forever after that. Eighth grade is when it all truly begins. This is the year where we step across the threshold onto the side of adolescence, and once this has occurred, the door shuts and locks behind us, forbidding us from turning back and forcing us forward. By now, our hands have been ripped away from our eyes, so even if our eyelids still blind us from the world, its light seeps through. Though no one wants to admit it, we all secretly have “friends” who really aren’t our friends, but they’re funny, or they’re rich, or they’re fun to make fun of behind their backs, or they’re mean and being friends with them is the only way to stay out of their war path. Either way, we use these people, and these people become topics for discussion with our “true” friends, who in reality may be in turn using us. You may wonder who they really are, behind their lies and gossip, telling tales of others you don’t truly believe but agree with anyway, because it would be unacceptable to say otherwise. Once this is realized, your one eye opens the teeniest bit, giving you a glimpse of the true world around you before your mind panics and the eye snaps shut once again. Nevertheless, as the conflicts continue, the rumors spread, and the arguments escalate, you begin to wonder what it’s really like around you, and your eyes eventually flutter open, squinting in the bright sunlight that you’ve never truly experienced before. After your eyes have full view of the surrounding landscape, it is much easier to tiptoe around the mines that, if stepped on, would become arguments. You may stumble a few times as your eyes struggle to interpret the meaning of your surroundings, but there are far fewer falls than you had while you were blind. You see people you thought you knew, now fully exposed to your judgement, and they become simpler to understand, yet at the same time oh so much more difficult. Yes, this world you can see is harsh and sharp, with every turn a possibility for yet another reason for resentment by your peers, but this is the world you live in. People are gossipy and backstabbing, and you are no better, no matter how much you tell yourself otherwise. Yet this is the human race’s nature, preying upon the weak to gain favor, and the sooner your eyes open to that, the safer you are. “Great minds discuss ideas; Average minds discuss events; Small minds discuss people.” –Eleanor Roosevelt No word has the power to describe the feeling. Blood pulsed in my veins, and pounded with a soft drumbeat in my ears. The silence was unbearable, like the calmness before a storm. A decrepit voice echoed off the seemingly endless white walls, though no figure was to be found. The words were incomprehensible. I tried to understand my surroundings, but the more I attempted to focus,the more impossible it became. I attempted to move but an invisible force kept me rounded. Then darkness consumed my thoughts.
Thousands of tiny pinpricks assaulted my body, leaving nothing but pain in their wake. I was immobilized, and unable to make sense of what my eyes observed. Several men and women in starched white coats with crinkly, electric blue masks covering all but their eyes loomed over me. Their expressions were a wicked mix of determination, and torment. They all contained sharp pins. Each was carefully positioned, causing more intense pain then the last. One last needle punctured my flesh, and again I was taken hostage by darkness. I was suddenly conscious, and drenched in sweat. No pain protruded my body. Light blinded me, which was still an advantage to darkness. I was stationed in my secure bed, as I contemplated what had just occurred. The imagery had filled me with a horrific emotion, one only recognized as fear. I worked
I worked I worked. But they don’t care I sacrificed I sacrificed I sacrificed. But they don’t care All they care about is “freedom” All they think about is “freedom”. Sure Their kind of freedom Is contrasting To ours But they don’t care I was in my house BANG BANG BANG. I was gone I was seated there sneaking glances A girl BANG BANG BANG. No girl I was sitting there They saw me. I prayed I prayed I prayed BANG The scent of generosity,
releases positivity It tickles your insides and creates a smile The scent of selfishness, releases negativity Its torpedoes explode the heart and create crumpled dirty tears The scent of inner beauty is a treasure It's the shield of the heart and transforms bitter to sweet SO turn that frown upside down and wipe away your dirty tears the week drags on
and on, essay after essay after project after test, i need to recharge. my eyes close refusing to stay alert: no longer fueled, i cannot sleep. toss turn flip the pillow sit up lay down think. my thoughts keep me awake. sounds outside and inside of me interrupt slumber, stress, anxiety, worries too much to handle: what if what if what if. i cannot sleep. toss turn flip the pillow sit up lay down think. they say “we all get tired” but not like this: hearing the seconds tick by: heartbeat, watching nightmares reach from under my closet, hoping to sleep again. i cannot sleep. toss turn flip the pillow sit up lay down, insomnia. She always felt like someone watched her, whether in her house or outside. Always felt the eyes of a stranger staring at her. Maybe she was a just a little paranoid; that’s what her family told her anyway.
Late in the afternoon and she sat–on an old broken park bench with a book in her hand, so absorbed that she did not notice the silence. It was never silent in this part of town because of the highway across the street. The wind began as a small whirl, turning into a loud roar; this got her attention; looking up from her book she took note of the silence and thought “Weird”. Tilting her head to the side she tried to hear something-anything: only to come up with nothing. The air seemed to thicken as she did this, which made her fidget. The wind brushed lightly against her cheek making her jump; “Hello?” she called out. No reply came, which made her think it was just her imagination. Then she heard, “Mary,” her name, a whisper so soft it could have been mistaken as the wind whistling. She felt hot air; a breath down her neck making her freeze, “Mary,” she heard again and realized that she should leave. Up from her seat with a jolt she took off running–running away, running into the woods--. Looking around, she became aware that it was dark; how long was I sitting on that bench? The snapping branches behind her immediately terrified her more! She took off–running faster then she ever had before only to trip over some tree roots. “I can hear you,” the voice said again, “there’s no point running away.” Trying to get up, she noticed that her foot was stuck and begun to pull and break the roots and branches of the tree. Pulling her foot out, she breathed a sigh of relief when she got it free; only to scream when she felt a hand touch her shoulder, “found you.” She slowly turned around to face a pair of steel, cold, gray eyes before everything went black. HAPPY HOLIDAYS! (and a happy new year!) I know all of us are excited for the upcoming holidays, so make your wish list, and your "holiday greeting cards", and i know if your me, go buy last minute gifts for your family!! HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
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All work on this page was created by Middle School & High School students. We hope you enjoy reading their amazing poetry, essays, and stories.
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