The Irish Fairies

by The Cowl Editor on March 21, 2019


Portfolio


A landscape photo with shining lights
Photo courtesy of pexels.com

by Sarah Kirchner ’21

The Irish fairies were the ones you always heard about. They were the chimes in the forest you heard on windy days, and the sparkles that fell from the sky on a starry night. They were always there, but they hid it well. The fairies knew how to please the humans, even if the humans did not know the fairies were the ones doing it.

I heard the fairies once. They were always by the hills. Typically, they came out at night, but I saw them during the day. The lights of the sky came down to the grass and danced for me. It caught my breath, but made me feel so alive. I had never seen such a sight. For years, I was alone in the backyard staring up at the sky. I always thought nature spoke to me, but I never knew to what extent. When I was alone, the trees were there. The wind whistled, and the flowers swayed all for me. It wasn’t until I saw them that I knew there was a reason I was alone for so long.

“Ellaaa,” they sang to me. “Dance with usss.” They spoke like snakes, but their voices were light and airy. The sparkling lights were like hugs. All of a sudden, I was safe and loved.

My body moved with them. All up the hill the sparkles rose and tiny bodies emerged in the sky. They all had transparent wings and translucent dresses. They were the size of my pinky, but I could see them so clearly. They became a part of me immediately, and I knew my place in the world.

“Your place is with us now, Ellaaaa.” All together, the voices called to me. My heart was filled.

For years, I had let bullies torture me. In the schoolyard, they taunted me for enjoying the outdoors. I told them that I had a connection with the world, and they all laughed in my face. I went 16 years feeling helpless, feeling as if I didn’t belong. But deep down I knew it was all going to change. And the fairies did that. They saved me. They made me find myself.

“Ella, welcome home.” Together, all the fairies gathered around me. The greens of the hill turned greener. The dirt began to shine, and the clouds swirled together like cotton candy. In that moment, I saw the magic of it all. I understood that I needed to go through the suffering in order to find my magic.

“Thank you,” I whispered to them all. As one, they smiled at me. They all grabbed hands and floated around me. They formed a circle, and the sun poured down. All of nature was coming together, and all I could think was that it was coming together for me.

“You’re safe now, Ella.” A tear dripped down my cheek. They were my security blanket.

Then, in that moment, the sparkles came closer to me. They took control and suddenly everything became one bright light. I was becoming one of them. I was going home. And suddenly, everything felt complete.

A Fall From You

by The Cowl Editor on March 3, 2019


Poetry


by Sarah Kirchner ’21

A bust split in half
Photo courtesy of pinterest.com

It seemed as if it was another day
Of rolling out of bed with a bad start,
I know why it’s been this way.
Ever since I lost my work of art.

It was you who made me want to live,
And made me feel like a sun inside.
I pushed further because you were my drive.
You saw the potential, even though I denied.

But soon that feeling disappeared.
The sun you made became like dust,
And I became the person I feared.
And I started to wonder, what happened to trust?

You know you lost it all
Just like I lost you
Because you wanted to see a fall
And got lost in the view.

Love Advice Haikus

by The Cowl Editor on February 14, 2019


Poetry


Stethoscope with a heart
Photo courtesy of promodj.com

Love Advice Haikus

 

Flowers, lovers, greed.
Never had it but a dream.
Smoked, woked, make believe.

by Jay Willett 20

 

If you are unsure
with what to do. Trust yourself,
And follow your heart.

by Sarah Kirchner ’21

 

Someday near or far,
I know that I will find you,
somewhere close or not.

by Kiley McMahon ’20

 

Did eyes connect? Blink.
Time, skip validation, think.
Love wields the senses.

by Sam Ward ’21

Gone For Valentine’s Day

by The Cowl Editor on February 14, 2019


Poetry


A candy heart that says "I'M MY OWN VALENTINE"
Graphic design by Julia Zygiel ’19

by Sarah Kirchner ’21

It was supposed to be a better day
A day of love and a feeling of happiness
But then he disappeared.
He left me alone for another girl.
Days were spent being each other’s.
Together we were strong, or at least I thought.
It felt like we could do anything,
Our love filled a room and made me believe.
I believed in a love that he created
With late night talks that ended with him
Holding me tight and a feeling of home.
For two years, he was my person.
He was my Valentine.
He was the world that I was living for,
And I know that wasn’t right.
I needed to live for myself
And be the better person I was before him.
This year, I’ll be my own Valentine,
And he can have her and be happy again.
He’ll be happier than he was with me,
But I’ll be happier too. I’ll be strong.
I’ll be my own, without him.

Writer’s Block: “I swore to myself that this would be the last time…”

by The Cowl Editor on February 1, 2019


Features


Scrabble tiles spelling out Writer's

Scrabble tiles spelling out Block

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 have missed something again. Okay, I thought, THIS will be the last time, and then I have to go home. Carly is probably one re-run episode away from falling asleep on the couch, trying desperately to wait up for me. I feel so guilty about how often I have been leaving her all alone with the baby. I’ve lost count of how many nights it’s been since I’ve made it home while little Troy is still awake. I had always promised myself that I wouldn’t be that type of dad, but at this point, I can only hope that my son won’t remember these days without me, and that soon I will learn to balance and separate my personal and professional lives. After we crack this case, I thought, I am never getting this involved in my work again. I am missing out on so much of my life, obsessing over the twisted acts of this anonymous criminal. By subjecting myself to this endless cycle of leads followed by deadlock, I am letting this monster steal life from me, too, though not with the same direct brutality as that used on these poor girls.

The dim light of my desk lamp begins to flicker, probably a sign that it’s time to pack up for the night. Hopeless, I am just about ready to give up. Maybe I am just too invested, but I can’t ignore the feeling that I am so close to cracking this. There must be something obvious that I am missing! Has it been right in front of me all along? This barbaric man is getting away with some of the most savage slayings I have ever seen. How could I let these innocent little girls down? As guilty as I feel for spending so much time away from my family, the guilt I feel for these young girls who have suffered, never to see their own families again, is unbearable. I can’t let this guy get away with this. With just enough incentive to look through those arbitrary clues one last time, I finally see it. Of course. It’s been right in front of me all along! I practically jump out of my seat. The killer! I know who he is!

Julie

I swore to myself that this would be the last time, but as the thrill of the enchanting power I held when taking the life of another person engulfs me again, I already know I am going to crave this feeling some more. Okay, that statement made me sound crazy. It’s not what you think. I do know that what I am doing is wrong. It’s not like I am one of those psychopaths that doesn’t feel any guilt. The truth is, I do feel really bad about it. Every day, the thought of just ending it all and turning myself in crosses my mind. But at the same time, what do I have to lose by continuing with my actions at this point? When they do catch me, I will probably already go to jail for life for what I’ve done so far, even despite my status as a minor. So why not chase the electrifying feeling all the way to the end?

I don’t quite understand how no one has even thought to question me yet. Do I really seem that innocent? Anytime I see my famous crimes on TV I completely freak out. How has no one noticed that? I always feel like I am making it so obvious! While part of me wants to just get caught and get it over with already, I can’t escape the intense desire to keep this up. How far can I go? How blind can they be? I must be really good at what I do.

 

Late Night Visits
by Sarah Kirchner ’21

I swore to myself that this would be the last time…
The last time I went into his room and
The last time I let him manipulate me with lies,
The same lies he told too many girls before me.
Those girls who I see too often and have to hide from,
Because they know just like I do.
They memorize the lies only to tell themselves
That he really means it this time.
“It’s only you.” Classic.
I swore to myself that this would be the last time,
That I left his room at 4 a.m.
And walked home alone in the dark.
The feeling of regret washing over me
But not enough to make me not go back,
Because he has a pull that I can’t quite refuse.
The way he smiles at me makes my heart beat faster,
And I never know exactly what to do.
He texts to me “u up?” and somehow
I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
He barely does a thing,
Yet he’s become my everything.
I swore to myself that this would be the last time,
And one day it will be the last time.
It terrifies me that someday
He’ll really be gone.
I’ll believe in myself instead of his lies
So that one day I will walk out that door
And never go back.

 

The Turn of the Prey

by The Cowl Editor on January 24, 2019


Portfolio


Wolf with yellow eyes staring down its prey
Photo courtesy of pinterest.com

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 when he died, he told me I had to run and that I could never stop.

It had been four days of consistent running and few breaks. Before my dad died, we stayed hidden. We were constantly moving from place to place so that we were never anywhere for too long, but it didn’t feel like a constant run. Things were different now, though. The country’s population had dwindled down to almost nonexistent. It was only me, running from something I had never really encountered.

Every now and then, my dad and I would run into another family. Everyone was on the same mission: keep away from main streets and cities, and never leave tracks. The less people traveling together, the better. My dad said we were being hunted, and that it was like this ever since he was a teenager. I tried to ask him what life was like before the hunters, but he didn’t like talking about it.

My first night sleeping alone in the woods, I heard something. In the distance, there was a horrible growl that vibrated the ground and reached under my skin. I held on to the knife I kept at my side, but I had absolutely no idea what to do if the growling creature reached me. Dad always talked about hunters. That night I realized the hunters weren’t human. My world suddenly felt like an alternative universe. For my entire life, my dad and I had hunted squirrels and the occasional deer if we were lucky. However, things were clearly different. The hunted turned into the hunters, and for that reason I was never safe. My dad was smart enough to realize that, so when he left this world I was thrown into reality.

I was not safe. I was all alone. I had no one to help me. I had to survive.

Somewhere in the country, Dad said there were government camps that would help us. Together, my dad and I had been searching for them. Other groups told us to stop looking and that we were better off finding some bunker to die in, but Dad was determined, and so was I. The thought of being with people and not alone was really what drove me to keep looking. I needed help if I was going to survive the apocalyptic world I was raised in. Dad said the camps were designed to save us from the hunters and as a way to rebuild the country. I didn’t believe that second part. If the country had been in shambles for 30 years, I wasn’t sure it could ever be saved. Dad believed in our country though, so for that I was going to fight for it and find a way to survive and improve life.

The wind whistled through my ears as I continued to sprint, and it wasn’t going to stop whistling until I found something out there in the world that would help me live. I wasn’t going to stop until I made Dad proud.

Fading Love

by The Cowl Editor on January 18, 2019


Poetry


by Sarah Kirchner ’21

He was filled with questions of “What if?”
Instead of “How are you?”
And so whenever I asked, “Where?”
He answered, “Why?”

Sad woman looking out the window
Photo courtesy of www.pond5.com

Things digressed quickly.
Soon good-morning kisses switched
To low gurgling grunts.
He offered me a pat, if I was lucky enough.

Our home-cooked meals became his leftovers.
The smell of roasting coffee started to burn,
Along with the fire we once shared,
And the spark in his eye couldn’t ignite it anymore.

“How come?” I once asked.
His glare said it all. I knew to quiet down.
But then that night the car started up late,
And I prayed for him to never return.

It has been years since I heard one of his questions,
And since I made meals for two.
The indent in the bed is gone,
But I still listen for his car.

Believe in Santa

by The Cowl Editor on December 8, 2018


Christmas


Santa hat
Photo courtesy of openclipart.org

by Sarah Kirchner ’21

“Do you believe in Santa, Alexa?” I asked my sister under the sheets of our couch fort. We laid on the cushions eating Santa’s cookies and drinking his milk. Mom and Dad were up in bed already, and I convinced Alexa to stay with me until we saw Santa.

“Harry, that’s a ridiculous question.” My sister laughed and squeezed my hand.

“Why?” Sometimes, I didn’t understand Alexa. Teenagers were always weird. Alexa said so. She said all the guys were smelly and filled with hormones, except her boyfriend. I didn’t know what hormones were, but my parents talked about them a lot too. They said Alexa’s were crazy right now. I thought my sister was the exception, though. She seemed normal to me. Whenever I came home from school, she would play cards with me. She taught me all sorts of cool games, like Gin and Spit. They were more sophisticated than Go Fish and War. Alexa treated me like I was her age, not a little kid like my parents thought.

“Well, Harry, it’s a complicated answer.” She turned her head to look at me. “Do you believe in Santa?”

“Of course! I don’t see how else we’d get all those presents every Christmas. Mom and Dad aren’t that creative to find us gifts like Santa gets us.”

Alexa laughed, “That’s very true.”

“So, do you?” I pressed on. Alexa didn’t seem as into the magic of Christmas this year. When we were decorating the tree, she looked happy, but she kept looking at her phone. She was always calling or texting someone. My parents said it was because she was a teenager and sometimes they forget about having fun, but Alexa loved having fun. She picked out the Christmas tree with us when we had the first snowfall. She and I ran through the rows of trees playing hide and seek. I thought that was fun, but as soon as we got into the car she would pull out her phone.

“Of course, Harry,” Alexa sighed. Her phone buzzed next to her and she quickly sat up to read the text. Immediately, her smile turned around.

I sat up with her and touched her arm, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Jake.” Her voice cracked, and I squeezed her arm harder. Jake was her boyfriend. She always talked about him and was texting him. I met him a few times. He seemed cool; he just didn’t like playing with me like Alexa did. He lived next door, so they were always spending time together.

“What about him?”

“He doesn’t understand Christmas like we do, buddy. I don’t think he believes in Santa.” She gave me a smile, trying to keep the mood light.

“Why not?”

“He thinks it’s all stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think we’re lucky someone always wants to bring us toys once a year,” Alexa laughed at that. “And we get to eat lots of good food,” that made her laugh even more. I smiled at her, happy to see her like that. She deserved someone who believed in all the magic like she did. I knew she believed in the magic. Jake was taking that from her this year, and that wasn’t fair to my sister. “He’s probably on the naughty list. You shouldn’t be with someone on the naughty list. He seems stupid.”

Alexa let out a long breath. “I think you’re right, Harry.” A tear fell from her eye, but I quickly brushed it away with one of our blankets and handed her another cookie. “Thanks, buddy.”

“I think we need more cookies for Santa.”

“Let’s get on that then. We’ll quickly make some right now, before Santa comes.” Alexa jumped up and hit her hand on the cushion. I laughed and crawled up with her, “I love you, Harry.” She pulled me in for a strong hug.

“I love you too! But we gotta get going on those cookies if we’re going to make sure Santa gets some! It’s almost midnight!” I shoved away from the hug. “He could be here any minute!” Alexa kept laughing at me. “I’ll go check the Santa tracker on the computer so we know how much time we have.” I started out of the fort, but Alexa caught my arm and pulled me back in for another hug.

“Merry Christmas, Harry.”

“Merry Christmas, Alexa,” I shook my head at my sister. Teenagers were so weird.

Believe in Santa

by The Cowl Editor on December 8, 2018


Christmas


Santa hat
Photo courtesy of openclipart.org

by Sarah Kirchner ’21

“Do you believe in Santa, Alexa?” I asked my sister under the sheets of our couch fort. We laid on the cushions eating Santa’s cookies and drinking his milk. Mom and Dad were up in bed already, and I convinced Alexa to stay with me until we saw Santa.

“Harry, that’s a ridiculous question.” My sister laughed and squeezed my hand.

“Why?” Sometimes, I didn’t understand Alexa. Teenagers were always weird. Alexa said so. She said all the guys were smelly and filled with hormones, except her boyfriend. I didn’t know what hormones were, but my parents talked about them a lot too. They said Alexa’s were crazy right now. I thought my sister was the exception, though. She seemed normal to me. Whenever I came home from school, she would play cards with me. She taught me all sorts of cool games, like Gin and Spit. They were more sophisticated than Go Fish and War. Alexa treated me like I was her age, not a little kid like my parents thought.

“Well, Harry, it’s a complicated answer.” She turned her head to look at me. “Do you believe in Santa?”

“Of course! I don’t see how else we’d get all those presents every Christmas. Mom and Dad aren’t that creative to find us gifts like Santa gets us.”

Alexa laughed, “That’s very true.”

“So, do you?” I pressed on. Alexa didn’t seem as into the magic of Christmas this year. When we were decorating the tree, she looked happy, but she kept looking at her phone. She was always calling or texting someone. My parents said it was because she was a teenager and sometimes they forget about having fun, but Alexa loved having fun. She picked out the Christmas tree with us when we had the first snowfall. She and I ran through the rows of trees playing hide and seek. I thought that was fun, but as soon as we got into the car she would pull out her phone.

“Of course, Harry,” Alexa sighed. Her phone buzzed next to her and she quickly sat up to read the text. Immediately, her smile turned around.

I sat up with her and touched her arm, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Jake.” Her voice cracked, and I squeezed her arm harder. Jake was her boyfriend. She always talked about him and was texting him. I met him a few times. He seemed cool; he just didn’t like playing with me like Alexa did. He lived next door, so they were always spending time together.

“What about him?”

“He doesn’t understand Christmas like we do, buddy. I don’t think he believes in Santa.” She gave me a smile, trying to keep the mood light.

“Why not?”

“He thinks it’s all stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think we’re lucky someone always wants to bring us toys once a year,” Alexa laughed at that. “And we get to eat lots of good food,” that made her laugh even more. I smiled at her, happy to see her like that. She deserved someone who believed in all the magic like she did. I knew she believed in the magic. Jake was taking that from her this year, and that wasn’t fair to my sister. “He’s probably on the naughty list. You shouldn’t be with someone on the naughty list. He seems stupid.”

Alexa let out a long breath. “I think you’re right, Harry.” A tear fell from her eye, but I quickly brushed it away with one of our blankets and handed her another cookie. “Thanks, buddy.”

“I think we need more cookies for Santa.”

“Let’s get on that then. We’ll quickly make some right now, before Santa comes.” Alexa jumped up and hit her hand on the cushion. I laughed and crawled up with her, “I love you, Harry.” She pulled me in for a strong hug.

“I love you too! But we gotta get going on those cookies if we’re going to make sure Santa gets some! It’s almost midnight!” I shoved away from the hug. “He could be here any minute!” Alexa kept laughing at me. “I’ll go check the Santa tracker on the computer so we know how much time we have.” I started out of the fort, but Alexa caught my arm and pulled me back in for another hug.

“Merry Christmas, Harry.”

“Merry Christmas, Alexa,” I shook my head at my sister. Teenagers were so weird.

A Foggy Night

by The Cowl Editor on November 30, 2018


Portfolio


Woman standing in the pouring rain looking for her boyfriend
Graphic design by Connor Zimmerman ’20

by Sarah Kirchner ’21

“Baby, look at me!” I yelled at Daryl behind me. I balanced on the edge of the sidewalk as we found our way home. It was late at night, most likely sometime around 1 a.m. I stopped paying attention to the time at some point or another. We were at a party down the street from our apartment with our friends, but Daryl was getting tired so I agreed to leave. The weather was starting to get bad because of the expected thunderstorms that were coming in the next day, so I wasn’t too opposed to the idea of leaving. In the distance, we heard thunder.

“Can you please start walking normally? You’re going to fall and crack your head open.” Daryl shook his head and jogged up beside me. He took my hand into his own so that I was more stable.

“You’re no fun. What happened to Fun Daryl?” I pouted at him and stopped walking. Recently, he had always been ruining my good mood. I was just trying to be funny, but his abrupt attitude made me get upset. It was happening more and more lately.

“What are you talking about?” He grumbled and let go of my hand. I crossed my arms and glared at him. “I’m the same guy I was when you first met me!” He lifted his hands to show it was still him, but I didn’t recognize his character.

I scoffed at that. That was far from the truth. I had met Daryl at a karaoke bar uptown. My friends had dared me to go up and sing a song, and I was so terribly awful. It was the most embarrassing moment of my life, but Daryl had jumped on stage with me and sang the Mamma Mia song by my side. I admired his outgoing personality, and I fell in love with him soon after.

“You changed after you got this new job of yours,” I told him flat out. He needed to hear it, even if he didn’t think it was true.

“Kasey, this is my dream job. I’m writing for the city’s newspaper! I’m so incredibly lucky for this opportunity,” he fought back. He always had to reassure me that that was his dream job, but I knew it wasn’t. He was miserable working nine to five shifts and was too exhausted whenever he came home to spend time together. It was becoming exhausting for me as well.

“Yeah? Then why do you have to keep reminding yourself that?”

“I’m not reminding myself, Kasey. I have to keep telling you because you don’t seem to get it.”

“Whatever, Daryl. I just wanted to have a nice night out with our friends, but those days seem to be over.” I started walking again. It was getting colder out and suddenly a fog had crept in. Dark clouds hung above us, and my feelings mimicked the frothy air.

“The weather’s crappy. It was time to leave anyway.”

I ignored him and kept walking further into the fog. It was thicker than it had been when we left the party. I couldn’t even see the next house a couple yards ahead of me.

“Can you stop walking so fast please, Kase? The weather is getting worse,” Daryl was saying behind me. He was right. I could feel the wind picking up and my hair was blowing everywhere. I wished I had brought my coat, but I figured we weren’t going far from our place. I was also deciding to be stubborn. Daryl wanted to be a buzzkill, so I would be just as annoying back.

“Kasey, seriously!” Daryl started to raise his voice.

“I can’t seem to hear you, Daryl. The wind is just too loud!” I called back to him. I moved deeper into the fog. The grassed courtyard was coming up ahead of us, and we just had to cross that to get to our apartment on Main Street. It was hard to see, though. I felt as if I was walking in the clouds and there wasn’t another soul on the planet. Slowly, drops of water began to fall down on me. I looked up and saw that the sky was swallowed with even more dark clouds.

“Kasey! Stop this. I can’t see you anymore,” Daryl shouted from somewhere behind me. I spun around. I was now on the grass, but I couldn’t tell how far across the lawn I was. When had I first felt the grass under my feet? Suddenly, the world wasn’t making sense anymore. The gray air around me had consumed everything.

“Daryl?” I yelled. I realized I was being stupid. Daryl was no longer the person I thought he was, but our argument could have waited until we got back to our place. It was dumb to have started the fight in the middle of the storm. The rain was becoming more dense than the fog, and my eyesight was manipulated because of the raindrops on me. I didn’t know it was going to be so bad.

“Kasey, where’d you go?” I heard his voice from far away. Had he already crossed the courtyard? Or was he still on the sidewalk, and I was the one who had crossed the grass? “Stop messing with me Kasey.”

“Daryl!” I continued to scream for my boyfriend. “Daryl, come here!”

“Kasey?” I heard again. His voice was quiet. He no longer sounded worried. “There you are, baby.” My heart calmed down and I smiled. He had found me. “I got so worried. Hold my hand so we don’t lose each other again.”

I turned around to see him, but he wasn’t there. My eyes narrowed and I looked all around me. Everything was still gray. There was no shadow in sight. “Daryl, I don’t see you. You’re scaring me.” My breathing quickened and my stomach began to knot itself up again. “Daryl baby, please answer.”

There was no answer, though. I pulled out my phone and called Daryl. I held the phone up to my ear and waited to hear his phone ring near me. He had to be somewhere near me. I just didn’t know where. There was no phone ringing around me. All I could hear was the wind and hard rain. My phone stopped ringing, but it hadn’t been sent to voicemail.

“Daryl?” I said into my phone. He didn’t answer. “Are you there, baby?”

In the distance, there was a piercing scream. It was Daryl. It was my baby. Somewhere in the fog, he was in trouble. I dropped my phone into the mud and ran, but I had no idea exactly where or to whom I was running towards.