by Erin Lucey ’20 February 14, 2014 Dear Diary, Today will be my third time leaving the comfort of my cozy yet dreary, constantly bustling yet lonely hospital room since I moved in four months ago. I only really leave for very special occasions–the past two being my 25th birthday and Christmas Day. I was […]
by Dawyn Henriquez ’19 He was stocky, built more like a fridge with a magnet on its chest than a man with a badge. I didn’t even notice him walking into the pizza spot until he was in front of me. He stood what he must’ve considered a safe distance away. I saw his lips […]
by Julia Zygiel ’19 This time it had been a cassette, its original label covered up with a piece of scotch tape that read “Self help” in purple Sharpie. Eloise would rather send her beat up Volkswagen over the guardrail and into the valley below than listen to it. The tape sat next to a […]
by Jessica Polanco ’20 This morning, the sun was selfless, too selfless and better yet, shining its rays all over our backs without our permission. Mia and I have to walk 25 miles up to the sea to get water and bring it back to our families. These are the duties that the townspeople have […]
TWO WRITERS, ONE LINE: “I swore to myself that this would be the last time… The Last One By Erin Lucey ’20 Dan I swore to myself that this would be the last time. But as I sift through the pile of potential suspects, I can’t help but torture myself with the thought that I must […]
by Erin Lucey ’20 Ten…Nine…Eight…I counted down, chanting with the crowd all the way to one. For the first time in I don’t know how many years, I was actually excited for this new year. A lot had changed in the past year, and I can count on one hand how many of those changes […]
by Sarah Kirchner ’21 The wind whistled through my ears as I sprinted down the empty street. I was running faster than I had ever run before. My improvement wasn’t from practice, though. I was running from something, and that gave me a motive. It was something my dad never really taught me about, but […]
by Julia Zygiel ’19 The townspeople of Emsworth hide their secrets in the marsh. Signs line the singular road which snakes around it, warning against entrance and to beware the almost ever present fog. On sweaty summer nights and cool fall days teenagers will wander around it, carefully tip-toeing across logs to avoid sinking their […]
by Connor Zimmerman ’20 “Vreeeeeeooooww…BOOM!” The dust stings my eyes as it falls from the ceiling above. Eyes that were once green have become perpetually red, but that is what happens when you’ve spent the last six years in a bunker. The bombs are a constant occurrence. They’ve become a white noise like crickets chirping […]
by Julia Zygiel ’19 “Yeah,” aunt Amelia interjects, her folded arms bouncing to secure attention. “He used to go to the neighbor’s dressed up as Santa and get absolutely shitfaced. He’d come home singing and swearing,” she laughs, a hand emerges to cover the crinkle of her nose and eyes, as if joy at her […]