My Father, Part 1 by Sarah Castellanos

"Stay safe, I will see you later," my father spoke right before he sped down the street. Something was different this time, I had sensed sadness in his voice more than frustration. Sure he had ran out on us multiple times before, but I knew that 'later' was going to be longer then I had anticipated.           I was not the one to call 911 that day, maybe because I didn't care. I secretly thought that he had deserved to die. I walked through my front door later that day to see my fathers possessions spread out on the couch in our living room. The officer informed us that they had been found floating down the nearby river. Still no traces of my father anywhere.          I fell asleep early that night scared to close my eyes, because I saw my Fathers face. I knew I had the game of my life in the morning and I needed to get some rest. My eye lids grew heavy and I finally drifted off to sleep. Only to be awoken a short time later, the police barged into my room.          "You need to get up! Go out your back door."           I dont have a back door. I mumbled.           I was thrown over over a tall mans shoulder and rushed through my backyard. The darkness of the night had scared me more than whatever was going on. 'The back door' was my fence knocked down leading into my neighbors property.As he set me down he told me to watch out for all of the nails, because I was barefoot.           I was in my sports bra and soccer shorts, and the coldness of the night was making me shiver. I wrapped my arms around me in attempt to keep my body heat.          "There is about twenty high-powered guns pointed at your house, we had to evacuate your family because we don't want any of you to get hit by a stray bullet."          My Father had come home, and they intended to shoot.

It's a baby... by MacKenzie Bush

How is killing a baby ever okay? No matter how you look at it, would
you ever kill an innocent person? Especially someone who hasn't even
had the chance to live yet? A baby is never a "fetus", it is always a
baby and because they are a baby doesn't make them any less of a
person. They have feelings, a heart, fingers and toes just like
everyone else. A man once said "those who believe in abortion have
already had their chance to live" and I honestly cannot agree more.
What if it was your mother that was aborted? She would have never had
you and you would never have the chance to have your own kids and your
kids would have never had the chance to have their own kids, and on and
on. What if it was your brother? Or sister? Or loved one? It affects
so many people's lives besides the mother and the babies. Everyone was
put on this Earth for a reason.
Girls say "I'm just not ready for a baby right now". Then you
shouldn't have had sex. Period. If you have sex you should be
responsible for the consequences. I'm not saying in all cases but in
most cases abortion is the easy way out for many girls and their baby
should not have to pay for their mistake. The baby feels everything
that happens to them during the process of an abortion. They suffer
and hurt just as if what was being done to them was being done to us.
I can't say I understand what its like to be a mother but I have heard
mothers talk about their children. For nine months a baby, a person,
is growing inside of you and I can't imagine the bond a mother feels
for her child. I understand that you may think you are doing the right
thing because you won't be able to support them financially but killing
them is not the answer. Death is never the right decision for your
baby. There are other options, like adoption. There is a family out
there that would love to have your baby if you don't. Give your baby
the chance to meet them.
Imagine if a woman just had her baby, still in the delivery room, and
someone came in and shot that baby. That person would be in prison for
the rest of their life. What difference does it make if the baby is
inside the whom or not. It is still the same baby being killed, still
the same person being killed.
I know and realize that there are other situations, like rape for
example. Although a woman getting pregnant from rape is extremely rare
I do understand that it does happen and it is a very tough and touchy
subject. I cannot say I fully understand what being raped must feel
like for a woman because I have never had to go through that, but I can
imagine what that woman must be going through. It must be the scariest
and most terrifying experience to feel like there is absolutely nothing
you can do about what is being done to you and you must feel extremely
alone. That is exactly what you are putting your baby through if you
chose to abort your child. They must feel alone and like they have no
control of what is being done to them.
Worldwide there are approximately 42 million abortions a year and
approximately 115,000 a day. At fertilization, the babies' gender, eye
and hair color, facial features, and the babies intelligence and
personality is already formed. A partial-birth abortion is up to 24
weeks. At 24 weeks if the baby was born and had specialized care the
survival rate is more then 80%. The baby can blink and hear sounds and
grip things with their hands at this point. The baby inside of you is
a person.
This is for every baby that was never given the chance to fight for
their life.

Night Hunter: Chapter 1 by Seth Eddings

"Its ok honey, I mean it's just a game right?" Amy said to comfort her boyfriend. She tried to make him feel better after his 8th straight game loss. He was a senior in high school, Amy was too.             Amy was 17, about 5'5 and must have weighed about 115lbs. She was a track and cross-country runner. She was blond with blue eyes. She was also smart, very intelligent. Amy was one of the few kids at her high school that has a 4.0 grade point average. James was her boyfriend. He's 6ft even, and about 160lbs. He played basketball. He put on 30 lbs from steroid abuse. He was tired of his teammates calling him, chicken shit, for being so tall and skinny. He too was somewhat intelligent. He had a 3.4 grade point average, most of the time. He had black hair with brown eyes. He's been just an average high school kid. "Ya, I guess so," James said in disappointed tone. Amy hugged him tight and pushed her chest up against him on purpose to make her boyfriend feel better. "Do you want me to take you to my home and make you dinner?" Amy asked. She loved him so much, that she would do anything to make him feel better. She had cooked for him before, and he had loved it. "Uhhhh, no thanks, not to night Hun, We have like a meeting or something to like a team meeting or something. I don't know, hopefully coach will figure something out to help us stat winning. Sorry Hun," James said. "It's ok, what about tomorrow night?" Amy said I a hopeful tone, and a smile. "Uhhh, ya, I guess that'll work for me." James said, but he wouldn't make eye contact with Amy. Amy just thought that he was disappointed from loosing, again. "YAAA-uh" Amy said, followed by a kiss on the cheek. "ANDERSON! Get off that female, and hustle your ass to the locker room! Our team meeting is in 5!" James's coach yelled at him from across the court. "I got to go, bye," James said quickly and gave Amy a quick kiss on the cheek. James hustled; he knew his coach meant business when his coach used his last name "Bye," Amy tried to say, but James left quickly to the locker room, with his coach screaming at the back of his head, to hurry up. "Geese, why don't you lighten up a lil'," Amy said under her breath, to herself. She hated it when people yelled at her Jamey like that. Amy was ready to fight an entire crowd once, when James missed the winning free throw, the crowd booed him, and Amy stood up and yelled at them to shut up. She was small, but a tuff little girl. Amy saw one of her girlfriends, and decided to talk to her. Amy's friend wanted to know if Amy was willing to go to a house party. Although she was grateful for the offer, she had to say no. If Amy's parents found out that she went to a house party, with boys drinking, and low lives smoking weed, she would be grounded for life. They chatted for about 15-20 minutes, until Amy said she had to go. She walked out of the gym and out to the parking lot. On the way there she passed the boys locker room. She could hear the coach yelling at the basketball team. "FUCK ANDERSON!" the coach was screaming at James. Amy heard but didn't look in. All she could see was the coach standing in front of a crowd (the varsity boy's basketball team) "Go easy on them coach," Amy said in her head. She opened the exit of the gym hallway doors and walked out to the parking lot. It was really dark outside, even with half the over lights on in the parking lot. Thankfully Amy had parked under a working one. There was no one in sight, not even any parked cars. Only her car was in the parking lot, the basketball team and the coach park on the other side of the gym. All the other parents and students had already left. Amy was beating herself up about talking for so long for, and talking. Now look where it got her.  It was dark, quiet, and a cold; it was a cold parking lot. Amy hesitated before walking to her car. She said a little prayer and began walking to her car, which was the farthest spot possible.  Walking under flickering lights and in almost total darkness, Amy felt so alone. She was so scared. She had that strange feeling as if she was being watched. She didn't know this at the time, but she was being watched. It seemed as if it was such a long walk. It was cold out, or at least Amy thought so. She was wearing a white cloth short skirt that came up to her mid thigh. She was wearing her favorite converts. She had on a spaghetti strap under one of James's hoodies. It was too big on her, she found it amusing though. She passed one the flickering lights. She didn't like at them, they scared her. They reminded her of a bad dream. She was brave and strong when James was around, but knows she was overwhelmed with fear. She couldn't help but think some one was watching her. But from where? No ones car was here and every one had already left. It felt like someone was poking her in the back of the dead with two fingers. Some one was definitely watching her, and she couldn't see them. She started walking faster, with a galloped in her step. "Almost there," She said to herself in the darkness. She was only 5 yards from the car. She can escape from the darkness. She leaped the last couple of yards. She lay, when she Finlay got to it she car giving it a hug type of a deal. She was so relieved that she finally made it to the car. She dared not to look behind her, to see if anyone was watching her. "Get in and leave, jus leave, get in your car and just leave. Get in and go home," Amy panting under her breathes, while she was fettling with her keys. She walked over to the driver's side of the car. CRUNCH. The sound came from under Amy's feet. She looked down to see shattered glass around her car. At first Amy thought that someone had broke her windows to get into her car, but all her winnows were fine. No one had touched them. They were perfectly fine, just like there always are. This couldn't of been glass from her car anyways, her windows where tinted, the glass on the ground was clear. "My car is fine, the glass is from and other car," Amy thought to herself. She sniffed "Is that gas?" Amy looked under the car using her flashlight was no leak, and her gas cap was on. Amy was kind of puzzled and felt like she really wanted to leave now. She pushed the unlock button on her key, and the car unlocked with two beeps, and a flash from her high beams. She opened the door and started to step in. She was half way in when "FLASH" her whole car was filled with light. Amy couldn't see anything. She felt panic come over her. She jumped in her car, and closed the door, and locked it. That's when she heard a huge door open, and slam close. Big footsteps came toward her car. Amy checked to make sure her doors where locked. Who ever it was stepped in front of the high beams casting a great shadow over Amy's car. Amy could see him now. He was a great big man about 6'5, and most of weighed 275 of muscle, and beer fat. He had long black peppered hair that looked like he hadn't washed it in weeks, from the greasy tips. He had a big black beard with spots of gray. He was wearing dark blue overalls that where covered in car oil stains, and grease. Under his dirty overalls he had a white t-shirt with food stains on it, and brown stains under his armpits. His boots where big and black. Amy took one look at him and didn't want anything to do with him. She started her engine. TAP, TAP, TAP. The mans hairy knuckles taped on her window. Amy just thought about leavening, but she didn't want to be rude, as much as she wanted to leave, she didn't. "Uhhhhh, excuse me ma'am," the big man said. He had a southern, almost caging accent. "Can you please roll down ya'all's winda? I need to talk to yea." Amy hesitated; she didn't want him reaching into her car. She thought about it, and rolled the widow only 2 inches down, she would be safe enough. This way she could talk to him too. Her window was a manual window, the ones where you had to crank it in a clockwise rotation. She rotated half a turn, her engine was still running. "Yes?" Amy asked in a patient voice. Amy didn't want to let the man know that she was really afraid, and panicking she could see bites of food in his beard, and dried out flakes of his skin covering part of his beard. "Excuse me, but I was wondering if you would get out of ya'll's car." The big man said as he put his hands on his roof. Amy saw on his overalls, there was a name imbruted on it, it read Jeb. Amy could smell his breath, and see his yellow and black, crooked teeth. His bottom lip was full of chewing tobacco. Amy didn't say anything. "The man "Jeb" wanted me to get out of my car?" Amy said to herself. "No way am I leaving this car." "Excuse me?" Amy asked. "Oh, why, my names, Jeb, its short for Jebidia," Jeb Said. Amy just looked at him. "So I was just wondering if you would get out of this lil car, and get into my truck. I'll drive you any where you wana go." The tone of his voice sounded like he was trying to convince Amy of something. He also sounded nervous, like had never talked to women before. "Get the Fuck away from me you creep!" Amy wanted to say, but she didn't, she said,   "No thank you that's ok. I should go now." "But, but, you need to get out of your car, and get into mine." Jeb said in a tone, as if he didn't understand, "Well, maybe I can get into the car with you, do you think that…" "No, leave me alone, or I'll, I'll call the cops!" Jeb just stared at her. He talked again. "Listen Little Lady, earthier you're getting out of this little car, or I'm making you," Jeb said in a deep voice. That's all Amy needed to hear, she buckled her seat belt and adjusted her mirrors, ignoring Jeb completely on purpose. Before Amy could get her car into gear, Jeb forced his hands into her car window. Amy let out a blood-curtailing scream. Jeb forced the window down all the way into the door. The manual window crank spun fast in a clockwise rotation. Jeb was got in side the car.

Sunday School by Christelle Xu

He held my hand. Miss Brinton wanted us to read over something in the scriptures during Sunday school while holding hands. And I'll admit, I played a little, but he played back. I grasped the strong hands, every time expecting them to recoil. But they didn't. Every time I grasped his hands, I felt the pressure on my fingertips; he was grasping mine. We were supposed to be turning to our favorite scripture. I turn to Kristina, kind of half distracted—actually completely distracted. I refused to look at him, though I had his scriptures on my lap. Kristina starts reading some verse in D&C. It's really warm. I keep wondering if he knows that people could be watching. I interlock my forefingers with his; knowing that act will end it, scare him away. But it doesn't. He holds mine, like a caress.

The fire crackles and burns strong as Miss Brinton reads the final page from Beloved. And then I wake up.

            Before this I'd dreamt that I was already in college taking courses and that our ward was intertwined with that of the universities. Elder Pond was eager to help with an assignment, he was a man of "Honor," as was posted on the bulletin board, along with a few other men, whose categories consisted of elite... and another I've forgotten. There was one point where as I go to see my teacher about my project, I pass the seminary students in my class. They were all eating meatball pizzas and I wanted a slice. All the while, the friend who stood by me changed from Christina (my cousin) to Katy, to Kristina (my friend.)

            I think what inspired the dream. (The first half anyway… the "honorary" and "elite" came from the bubble wrap game application on the iPhone. The initial high score postings were represented by rankings—I easily surpassed them)

            But today he striked me, more than one time. While in sacrament meeting, I looked up, saw him there and I distinctly remember seeing him grown up, as a matured adult. Call me weird, but there was a sort of refinement in him I have yet to see in most guys my age.

            The second time was during Sunday school. We were talking about the Ugly Duckling. It was some interlude into a lesson. Miss Brinton asked if anybody felt like an ugly duckling, and he raises his hand. I was shocked! I slipped out a what?! I just couldn't fathom it, just all around. This guy whose confidence overwhelms, who comes from a strong family. He's smart with a goal—he has a path and a passion. And he has the most striking blue eyes, my gosh. They can grab you and hold you for ages—which brings me to my last moment. I'd gotten very little sleep the night before, and I was sitting in the comfy chair. I leaned it back against... it's kind of the wall, but it's the hitch of the accordion wall. But the wall was open—you do the math. There's a rubbery part that I kind of played with.

            Anyway! As I lay back in my chair, I let my mind wander. Why I did that I don't know, but my eyes were drooping. I was trying, really, really trying to stay awake, my head was in rock star status, bouncing, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, I looked to my right; I saw him and he was looking back, smiling at the silliness of the occurrence. It was kind of a knowing smile. His bright blue eyes pierced me. And oh how it made me smile.

            I just kept thinking about it.

Snow by Christelle Xu

It had been a week. She had left home to find the most breathtaking view in the city. It is a large town. Lucky for her though, the city is surrounded by wood and mountains. A river bends in the middle of it all. No way was she getting lost. Hand planted maple trees grew in her backyard, but out her, it was all about the pine trees. She'd been out here before. It was the crisp scent of dirt and fresh air she recognized. She felts small among the aspens but that's the way she wanted it. Her home was a mansion, her family filthy rich; filthy, being as filthy as the soles of her boots.

Years ago, a world renowned photographer came into town. At the time he was only in his twenties, but she knew his work. He's back, and he's speaking at Walton's, the local bookstore. It was his hometown after all, and Walton's bookstore had inspired him to find places as vivid as those he read about. It was that ambition that brought him home. He had taken pictures all over the world, yet he had forgotten one spot—his spot. On a hill, about the groves of trees just ahead was a curving river that led your eyes to a rocky mountain. The hilltops were always covered with snow and during mid fall, the clouds would loom over the sun, just above the hills, bringing a sense of serenity.

            This photographer had a son, Parker. He was an ambitious 6'1" with auburn hair and emerald eyes. He had manners like a southern gentleman.

            Parker's family settled down August of 98'. Mallory met Parker he junior of high school.

            She had had her license for two weeks. In a rush to get to dance, "pop!" she ran over a curb, shredding her front left tire.

            Parker was on his way home from practice. Pretty girl instinct and manners told him he had to pull over. Smart boy.

            He found her a little devastated. It had begun to sprinkle, which in this weather could only indicate snow, and her phone had died.

            "Hey, thanks for stopping, what's you name again?" Mallory asked.

            "The names Parker," he said with a smile

            "I've seen you around before," she said.

            "I was in your English class for a day, had to transfer out."

            "Ooh I remember you! Anyway, I ran over a curb, how car savvy are you?"

            "Pretty darn, I've changed a couple tires in my life."

Within ten minutes he had the spare loaded. After some internal contemplation he blurted,

            "Would you like to stop by Walton's with me, grab some hot cocoa?"

Disappointed she replied, "I can't, I'm headed out to dance."

Seeing a sudden sullenness on his face, she added, "But I'm free after!"

They set plans for 7:30

"Is it done?" a dark voice asked as he climbed back into his cab.

"7:30" Parker replied.

Letter By Lara Mrgic

You don't care Its obvious. Though you say otherwise. You play girls. One second your holding my hand and the next your with her. I understand she's your girlfriend. This isn't the first time we've been through this. And when your with her and see me too, you look as if your trying to hard just not to glance at me. That your ashamed. I've always been the other girl for you. The pot on the back burner. Were you trying to ignore what you felt? Becasue you put on a front as if your the worlds best boyfriend. But yet she doesnt know. And temptation always seems to seek you. And you give in. Your tempted with me, always have been. Im something your not use to. Forbidden Fruit tastes the sweetest. Thats why you and I desire each oither. Though I could never date you. Though im different I could never change you. Its up to you wether you want to keep putting on a front or actually be faithful. As much as I  love you. I could never tell you. The connection within our eyes say it all.. You got me starry-eyed. She's Naive and doesn't want to believe she's in love with 'one of those guys' instead of some prince charming. But these last years, my eyes have always been wide. And I didn't let your looks decieve me. Im no fool. But just because I knew what I was getting myself into doesn't meen it hasn't hurt. In fact, it has. And I can't deny it wasn't the worst pain i've ever felt. I've tried repeatly to hide what I felt that was true. But when something so real comes along.. in a way you forget all that you knew. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.. I've put up with it long enough. Im not sure when the right time to tell you this would be. But i've realized the key to my happiness is when its just you and me. love always, me.

Untitled Part 2 by Kolbe Cathcart

I spent perhaps a full week after my story left off in a state of unrivaled obsession.    Every day I would read some small bit on my way to work, and in that cosy little cubicle I'd read a bit more, shifting the workload as well as I could to allow me more time.  Only several days in and I was familiar with the tales of Inspector Legrasse (1908) , the studies of H.A. Wilcox, a dreamer examined by a professor Webb (1925) and a slew of other works solely compiled for their relevance to this case, but without a real sense of cohesion in their dates.   One of the most identifiable stories to me was of a man who had come face to face with the very same cultic group I did, though on the East Coast as opposed to where I was on the West.  I think I related to this tale so well because the character (having never been given a name, nor even referenced to one in his account, which remained authorless) had seen exactly what I'd seen, monsters from beneath the waters.  By now I had come to grips with this occurrence and was working closely with a government agency that left itself nameless ( though I suspected it to be some subset of the FBI) so we could study, and hopefully, eliminate the cult.   Some things I could still not fully understand, but that was why I had been given this collection of materials dealing with the abomination of a religion.  I know that they didn't need me for muscle, being the government and all, whilst likewise I knew that there were probably far better minds working on this project than my own.  And still I wondered why it was I was still here, until eventually I became sufficiently distracted from whatever studying I was doing.  Near my seventh day with these files I had finished a pretty good portion of them and had committed to memory a vast majority of what I had read, and even those that weren't committed I still had a vague recollection of.  I began to mentally catalog the adventures through these tales of terror and I guess some time after I had lost track of time I heard a rasping of knuckles on the door.  Usually this would have been a harmless enough occurrence, and not too late in the day for it to be something terribly urgent or in fact weird, however it still made my hair stand on end on the nape of my neck and brought me immediately back to my senses.  Once more I heard the knuckles on that hard wood and the seeming "BOOM BOOM BOOM" echoing from the door.   I made my way to investigate at the peephole on the center of the door.  I did my best not to reveal my presence by sounds of movement to whomever was outside of my door, waiting.  Of course in the back of my mind I knew that I was in no real danger, being secluded in my suburban neighborhood under what I'm assuming was a decent amount of surveillance had its advantages, assuming the stereotypes of government were to be believed.  I looked through the peephole and saw a familiar man in a familiar suit.  I had seen this man and his suit several times since the week following my meeting with the Cult and himself the next day, where he gave me a copy of The Angell Files.   "Smith" officially, and "Hoover" unofficially, was an interesting man.  He seemed to have no sense of humor but would laugh, didn't seem to find anything particularly interesting but was always attentive, and perhaps the most unsettling thing was that he never seemed surprised.  Even when I told about my dreams or if I had gotten through some bit of reading supernaturally fast he never gave any real indication that my performance was in the slightest unexpected.  He began to speak.   "We're moving you for a while, a car will be outside of your house in three hours.  Pack some clothes and whatever essentials you need and simply get in the back.  Don't be late."  He held a calm and deep, almost authoritative if he put some effort into it, voice.  And of course he was being business like as he could in the situation.   "Can I at least ask where I'm going?"  I already knew the answer but I thought trying couldn't really hurt any chances I had.   "You'll know in 3 hours" was the only response.  Almost immediately afterward he showed himself out of the house, carefully closing the door.  Immediately I began to pack and did my best to take care of whatever business I could for at least two weeks time.  Three hours later I found myself in a small car with barely enough room in the back for a suitcase and myself, who then began a long car journey.   Nearly an hour later I had arrived in the deep city next to a line of familiar warehouses that I guessed was very close to where our new base of operations would be.  I looked around to see the outside of the warehouse complex being enveloped by a mystical sort of fog like a magic spell, and in turning around I saw the closest office building being bordered by the exact same type of fog and a dark premonition came to mind about the fate of the day.  The scene in my mind was a showdown between the forces of those two buildings, the forces of Order versus the forces of Disorder, good versus evil, light versus darkness.  Two equally determined sides staring each other down just waiting for tempers to flare into open conflict.  The driver took us down into a parking garage under the office building.   Several minutes later I was shown to a room that had been hastily converted from a normal office space into a basic bedroom cubicle.  I looked around and saw that there was an odd looking plastic construct that seemed to resemble a removable sink, next to a lame grey cot and an equally lame dresser that looked like it was made of plastic.  I began to unpack some of my clothes and toiletries when a man just walked in.   "Mission tonight, eat something and try to get some sleep.  Someone will come to wake you up a half hour early and then escort you to your station."  Promptly the man left, as if he hadn't felt like answering any questions I might put to him.  Taking his little advices I snacked on what little conveniences there were in the room and lay down on the grey little cot to rest a while, thinking to myself "Mission? sounds kind of dangerous..." and floated off into an uneventful slumber.

Hugs and Gravity by Rebecca Belliveau

Hugs

So I will begin by admitting that I think "hug" is a funny word. The only words that I really know that rhyme with the word hug are: thug, chug, and bug. Yet all of those things have nothing to do with a hug. A hug is a warm embrace of one human being by another. A good hug can make your day and even a bad one can't make it worse. A hug is just one of those things that add to the beauty of life. When I am in need of a squishy hug, I try and find a squishy person.  These hugs are really unique because I seem to sink and really melt into the hug which is very pleasant.  Another hug I really enjoy is the awkward hug. You know the ones I'm talking about where you go in for the hug and your heads collide (maybe even a little lip touchage.) Or the side hugs where you end up doing the "I'm a little tea pot," move. Those ones just make the world a better place. Ah….then there is the hug and run. Basically what happens is you pull a quickie, half a second maximum while in the hug itself. This is most commonly found in a male on male hug. Then there is the rocking hug. Personally I'm not too crazy about these ones. This hug most often occurs when you run into a good friend you haven't seen in a while so you want to show them you miss them by hugging them for a long period of time, but that doesn't seem like long enough so you lean from left to right and continue to do so until the excitement has worn off.

Gravity

What if we fell into the sky?

You know that would freak me out.

If gravity just switched off like a light?

Would we hold on or just let go and escape?

In that moment of our powering fate.

Would you be holding my hand?

Would you hold me all the way up? Or is it down?

Will we know? Will we even care?

Would we blow up from the pressure?

Or would our bodies thrive?

Will the stars say hello? Or will they burn us alive?

Would you still be holding my hand?

Will a black hole suck us in? Or will it transport us to another place?

What will it look like?

Maybe, as pretty as your face.

Will it be just us two in the race?

Would you still be holding my hand?

Are we scared of this new place?

Will it matter?....

Can we even see a trace of what used to be?

It won't matter, no, it never mattered.

Cause' you were always holding my hand.

Talent is Beauty by Victoria Chan

Nothing is more beautiful than talent. The more talented someone is, the more beautiful they become in my eyes. It doesn't really matter how beautiful they are on the outside because if they don't have any talent, they don't matter. When I watch different groups in the Korean music industry, I tend to like the more talented groups. You'd think that most people would think the same way, but unfortunately that's not the case. In Korea, people are obsessed with physical appearance. One of the most popular groups is Girls Generation, or SNSD in Korea. They have been labeled as the prettiest of the pretty. To me, their success is empty because there are more deserving groups out there. It's not that they don't deserve it, but I feel like they only gain fans because of their appearance. Instead, my eyes are set toward 2NE1. The girls are far from the prettiest, but their stage presence makes up for their lack of beauty. Park Bom, the main vocalist, has the most unique voice in all of Korea. With her voice, 2NE1's music stands out from everyone else's. Dara has acting experience from having active roles in Filipino dramas. Minzy, the youngest, is the dancer of the group. Her grandmother is a well-known traditional dancer, so you could say that dancing runs in her blood. At 15, she is one of the best female dancers in the industry. Last, but not least, Chaerin, the rapper, spits out lines so fierce that the competition can't think fast enough to fight back. 2NE1 has barely been around for a year and they have claimed Song of the Year from the biggest award show in Asia. But, even in their success, they are still down to Earth and easy to talk to. To me, they are more beautiful than any other group out there.

Not Even Spring by Tara Darland

Everywhere I turn, all I see is people completely lovestruck.
People delusional, people incredibly foolish and blind.
She used him for her first kiss, thinking that he wouldn't mind.
Only he did , and now he mopes around broken hearted.
A pair of friends, now lovers can't remember where it all started.
First they were besties, but more and more they seem like FWBs.
She led him on. Led him on. Led him on. Onto their first kiss.
He wants more, but about their old friendship does she reminisce.
Another couple I see: embittered, broken, angry, fuming.
Her passionate hate for his other lover is emotionally consuming.
They seemed so perfect together, but skeletons hid in that dark closet.
"I love you, I'll be back" she wrote on a that pink Post-It.
He thought they were soul mates, that poor mistaken chap.
The young boy fell for all of her lies, her lines,  her crap.
Another man is just the opposite: he is full of deception.
Under his playboy mask, hides an insecure little boy.
Too addicted, too unwilling to give up his women, his toys.
If only his wife, his kids, his eldest daughter—me—didn't suffer.
His horrible actions, lies, and parenting only make me tougher.
And now I look around, so much love, and its not even spring.
Then I see you and remember all that you could bring:
That happiness, security, warmth from you I crave,
But at the same time, of this love I am a slave.
Long distance relationships just don't work out,
Yet my heart has never felt this way about anyone, there's no doubt.
Relationships are chaos, embedded with tears and heartache,
There's always that day where they wonder if it was all a mistake.
Still there's love all around me, inside me too. I am lovestruck.

Cold Storage by Nathaniel Hirai

"Grar!" The terrible roar echoes through the white hall. "I am Meatloaf! Bow down to my protein rich servings!" The snow peas trembled in their pods, the onions cried, and the butter melted. "I rule this refrigerator with a giant meat sword!"

            "That's naughty." Laughed the Cucumber.

            "How dare you laugh at me? Of all of you I am the most fresh and plentiful."

            Soy Sauce spoke up, "But because you are so fresh and tasty, you will be eaten as leftovers before any of us are gone."

            "Surely you jest. Why would the creators choose to rid themselves of me so soon after my very creation?"

            "Don't you remember?" asked Mashed Potatoes.

            "Remember what?"

            "Last night. We were served together. There I was…" His voice cracks. "Freshly mashed. I was steaming, stupid me always trying to show off! They attacked me with spoons, tearing me apart. I saw you too. I… I can't believe you don't remember. They cut you up with a knife, over half of you. The boy, he… he even dipped part of you into me." He breaks down. "Oh God! Why!" Mashed Potatoes bursts out into sobs.

            "No! No, it can't be true! It just can't!"

            "Face it," said milk. "They took bites out of you. Just look."

            "Oh my God! Where are my legs? Where are my legs? What happened to me? What is this plastic over me? Oh my God! I'm suffocating. Help me!"

            "He is going into shock!" Milk said, "Quick, someone get the wise one. He will know what to do." Milk looks earnestly at meatloaf who now lays on his side in a puddle of his own grease and tears.

            "Sniff, sniff… It's so cold…" Meatloaf looks up at Milk.

            "It is okay Meatloaf. We are in a refrigerator, it's supposed to be cold."

            "I just wish I was back in the oven! Everything was so much simpler there."

            Just then an old carton of sour cream moves towards Meatloaf. "Are you alright son?" He asks.

            "No! I'm not alright. Those, those animals ate me! And now they are probably going to come back and finish the job!"

            Sour Cream looks off into the distance, as if in deep thought. Then says, "This fear does not suit the mighty meatloaf, that just two servings ago ruled this great hall."

            Meatloaf wipes the tears from his eyes and sits up. "You are right Sour Cream. I have no need to fear a mongrel race of bipedal beings. For I am the all powerful Meatloaf." With that he raised his giant meat sword up to the sky as if defying the gods. But in his moment of confidence, the refrigerator door opened and a hand grabbed the meatloaf out of his comfortable room. All that could be heard from him was screams as the door slowly closed once again.

            "Why would you give him false hope like that Sour Cream?" Milk questions.

            "For it is not our place to questions when we shall be consumed. We must acknowledge the fact that it is our duty to serve and that our ends may be met at any time. Some may last for what seems like eons. Soy Sauce loses a part of himself about twice a week, but he perseveres. I once knew a Butter who sat in this very refrigerator for over three months. He began to think he was invincible, and in that very moment of his hubris the overlords decided to bake cookies. You, assortment of vegetables, you are perishable, try as you may eventually you will go bad and rot away. Even I cannot escape this destiny. I have lingered in this stainless steel refrigerator for over a year. But I know, that one day, perhaps not long from now, they will make baked potatoes. And when they open me, they will find my once pure innards have molded over. And at that point I must succumb to a new environment in the trashcan. So I tell you all. Wait, pray, but know that today it was Meatloaf, but we all shall fall."

Kaiser Mayhem by Nathaniel Hirai

(A man, wearing a white suit and cap, sits at a table opposite from a man who emanates good will for all. In front of each of them sits a microphone.)

Kent: My name is Clark Kent, and I am here with the 'Premier of Evil,' Kaiser Mayhem. Before we start I would just like to thank you again for allowing me to have this exclusive interview.

Mayhem: No problem Clark. I hope that from this people will have a better understanding of what sort of situations our community of villains is under.

Kent: That is what we are here to find out, so to begin. How did you come to choose this life of villainy and evil?

Kaiser: You see Clark; I grew up in San Francisco. This is one of the most tolerant places in all of the United States. But growing up there and going through the school system I felt out of place. I was continuously picked on for my hobbies, looks, speech impediments, and every other thing they could find jeers for. I'll give you an example. Back in the first decade of the 21^st century iPods were all the rage. I didn't have one and was left out when they all talked about their current music and which podcasts they had. So I went out that night and bought a Zune; which has all the same capabilities of an iPod for much less money. But when I came to school the next day, they continued to mock my new music player. I learned then that it wasn't the iPod or the way I dressed or anything else for that matter that made them mean to me. Simply put, they were all dicks. Giant, throbbing, STD infested, penises. I learned that you could change everything about yourself, but not the mentality of the people around you. From then on I chose to work to change society for the better, ultimately my goal came to reshape the whole world in my image. But the intentions are good.

Kent: So you chose this life of evil. Why not change society through public office or organized protests?

Kaiser: It's just not the same Clark. You can't reform something that doesn't want to reform. It's like trying to teach blind people how to read. It just doesn't work like that. So my idea is to kill all of the blind people.

Kent: But, fitting with your metaphor, why not teach them all brail?

Kaiser: Do you know how hard it is to teach a blind person brail? Hell, how to teach a regular person brail? I want to have an orgasm but that doesn't mean I would rather jack off than have regular sex.

Kent: That doesn't even make sense.

Kaiser: Exactly! The world doesn't make sense, and to make order of it all I have taken on the responsibility of trying to rule it.

Kent: But there are so many other methods of change that you could utilize. Why not work in unison with the system already established?

Kaiser: That system is broken. Look at President Obama, he ran his campaign on a platform of change, but nothing much has happened! So I say, why not take over the world, and then it doesn't even matter what I promise in my campaign. You know why it won't matter? Because I will have the world by the nut sack! That's why!

Kent: All right, whatever, moving on. We now know that you want to rule the world, but do you have any other goals in mind for the more near future?

Kaiser: Of course I do Clark. I have this aspiration to take on the entire justice league, but not really rushing that, cutting corners there only gets me in jail. I would like to get married, hopefully raise some little princes of mayhem.

Kent: Let me interject real fast Kaiser. You want to get married, how can you fit that into your hectic life as a super villain?

Kaiser: Oh, well its not easy at all. We have to put in a lot of work from both sides of it. She is always off doing something and so am I, but it is just the most wonderful feeling in the world when you can come home after a long day of work to someone who just wants to fall asleep in your arms while you find out what the fuck is up with that island in LOST.

Kent: That is of course priceless. But you were talking about a she in this situation. Do you have a lovely lady in your life?

Kaiser: Yes, actually I am engaged. Was a secret, but it would come out sooner or later. We are planning a spring wedding. Hopefully I can get enough Brotherhood of Evil vacation days before then. Unfortunately I'm not sure how if I can pay for the wedding. The downturn in the economy really hit us hard. Sure we are out there robbing banks, but the Brotherhood laid off over twenty villains last quarter. The worst was when Solomon Grundy was downsized. He was packing his things and crying, none of us knew what to say. We wanted to tell him it would get better, but these are tough times. And I don't know who would hire him; I mean he lived in a sewer for most of his life, next to no work experience. I just hope someone has the heart to take him in, bless his soul.

Kent: I know what you mean, the Daily Planet has been had a steady fall in subscriptions. But anyway, tell us; just who is this lucky lady and how did you meet her?

Kaiser: Well, I know it's a little taboo, but I am marrying Super Girl.

Kent: What! No way! How?

Kaiser: It just so happened that Lex Luthor calls me up saying 'Hey want to take a shot at Superman?' And who am I to say no to Lex Luthor. So I'm there doing my thing when in busts Superman and Super Girl. I run off down a corridor, I'm the brain not the brawn. Anyway I run off and Super Girl comes after me while the other two just do something. But As I am standing there giving my evil tirade, we really start to hit it off. I think she enjoyed my witty banter and extreme intelligence. But long story short, she gave me her number, a couple days later we went out on a first date, and its been smooth sailing ever since.

Kent: Wow. Well congratulations on you engagement. I think we got a little side tracked with that. If you would be willing, tell us of your first act of true evil.

Kaiser: No one knows about this. But it was pretty extreme. I spent two years preparing this elaborate scheme. I found a man, depressed about his life and job, and I brainwashed him; forcefully implanting a second personality into the man, calling this other side Tyler Durdan. The Tyler personality started a whole club. Long story short they took out the credit card companies, turning the debt clocks back to zero. It was my first step towards destroying society.

Kent: That sounds a lot like the plot of Fight Club. Did you really make fight club?

Kaiser: I can't tell you.

Kent: Why not, you have told us everything else so far?

Kaiser: I just can't.

Kent: Why?

Kaiser: Because!

Kent: Because why?

Kaiser: Because you broke the first two rules of fight club!

Kent: What the hell are you talking about?

Kaiser: I'm not talking about anything. Because I'm not supposed to talk about it, because that is the first two rules.

Kent: I don't follow.

Kaiser: It is fine. Continue with the interview please.

Kent: Alright, well, do you have any upcoming plans of evil?

Kaiser: I have some things cooking. The Brotherhood of Evil is planning something big, but probably shouldn't talk about that. Um, I believe there were some banks we were going to rob out on the east coast, I'm not really sure, it was the Joker's idea, and honestly I just try to avoid any conflict with him. I got an E-vite from the Injustice Gang, something about kidnapping the president; I just responded with an E-maybe. Personally I am working on a new invention. The sonic disruptor, makes people loose all balance and coordination, also makes them throw up, and so should be pretty awesome. Other than that and the wedding I don't have too much going on.

Kent: Sounds like some real hard work you're putting in.

Kaiser: Yeah, some people think being a villain is all fun and games, you know get to kidnap some teenagers or rob some banks. But a lot of hard work and planning goes into these things prior to the actual event, and I don't think people respect the amount of work we put in.

Kent: It's hard out there for a super villain.

Kaiser: True that Clark, true that.

Kent: Well that is all the time we have I'm afraid. Once again, thank you so much for joining us, hopefully you will grace us again with your presence.

Kaiser: Thank you for having me. And anytime you want to have an interview. I'm all for it.

Kent: There he is folks, the Premier of Evil, Kaiser Mayhem.

            (Fake applause rolls. Don't Stop Believing by Journey begins to play. Kaiser Mayhem and Clark Kent sit on the ground next to a jukebox. The screen zooms into their faces, then cuts off to utter blackness and silence. A voice begins.)

Mysterious Voice: You're traveling through another dimension -- a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's a signpost up ahead: your next stop: the Twilight Zone!

Love Rollercoaster by Monique Pascual

Basically it worries me. How am I supposed to know what we have will be there forever? We actually don't. Something can always go wrong. Are we supposed to believe them when they say they ready do want to be here forever! Or is it just another teen relationship everyone thinks it is and eventually going to have to grow apart from each other? You never actually know until it happens. I know I'm still young but I've never cared about a guy so much before. I may not show it all the time. But if he just had any clue what goes on inside me. What sucks is I have no idea if he has different plans himself or if he really feels his feelings are always going to be there. I mean I haven't even reached college; I want to be successful in everything I do but with him included in it. He's proven to me that he's definitely not like other guys. I hope he keeps it that way. Does he even want to take in how I feel? Or do I just nag him about it and doesn't want to hear it anymore. I just need the truth. You can't tell somebody you want to be with them forever and let them know there is bound to be a break up between now and forever and let them know once you take a break or break up its done for good. You can't play games when it comes to love, unless you don't mean it. Maybe I am just a silly girl thinking there will be a happy ever after that takes place in every Disney movie. I don't want to get hurt by another person I've grown close to, especially him.             Everytime it becomes good it be it becomes bad again. His fault? My fault? I don't know. Here is my perfect guy 1.      Doesn't want to hit and quit it 2.      Trust/faithful 3.      Doesn't care about not messing around 4.      There for me 5.      Stands up for me 6.      Actually cares 7.      Someone that just wants to be loved 8.      I can tell all my secrets to 9.      I can be comfortable with 10.  They have to be able to handle me Okay so my boyfriend for sure has some of those. There's so much more that you want in a boyfriend right? But I learned you can't expect them to be perfect. It's not a fairytale you see in twilight which is ever girl is dream, but its reality. So I guess I can't get mad at him for every little thing. I've become more protective over him. Honestly I'm scared over every little thing that I might end up getting hurt. I don't want him making a mistake. You'd think after a year and four months I wouldn't have to worry about that but oh there is. Now a day you can't trust anyone. Honestly if I were him I wouldn't trust guys around me either. I want to be able to trust him, but what if he's hiding it? Gah! I got to stop getting mad at him. He's committed to stop and he's been doing pretty well, now it's my turn. See how much this guy affects me?!

I hear, I feel, I think by Haley Barnett

I feel your hand go limp in mine,

I feel the heat leaving it, making it cold to the touch,

I hear the defing beep of the mashie telling me that you are gone.

I feel the tears threting to fall,

I feel the world still going on,

I feel dad behind me like a silent giant,

I feel the shove as I was pushed out of the way,

I hear myself trying to tell them that she did not want to be brought back.

I think that I feel no diffent,

I think others should hear my silent sobs,

I think dad is ok,

I think the world will end,

I want to hear the world ending,

I feel like the world is ending.

I don't hear dad for a long time,

I don't feel dad for a long time,

I don't think for a long time,

I don't feel for a long time,

I can't do anything,

I don't want to do anything,

I don't think I can,

Now that she is gone.

She helped me think,

She helped me feel,

She helped me hear.

How am I sapost to do all that,

Now that she is gone.

Eight Hours by Ana Theresa C. Adriano

I've been sitting here for a while now. The plane sure take so long. Even though I am exhausted, the clouds are still and calm, I wish so with there. I'm not bothered at the running clock. I just imagine seconds flew by. After one and the other—until time run out— soon I'll be there. I hope you're waiting patiently for me.

    

My first line would be "I've missed you," or probably "How have you been?" until now my words tumble. Maybe, I'm just too happy to see you again.

    

Know what, I've stock lots of lots of fancy stories. Just in case you want to hear them, I've been hanging a lot with friends lately and I do talk about you. They sure know your existence. How you mean in my life and how special you are to me. If only you can meet them, I'm sure you'll be pleased. They are good people.

    

Now, thinking what your expression might be makes me wonder. Are you smiling? Perhaps pouting or laughing? It doesn't really matter; after all it is always refreshing. You never fail to give me a funny feeling.

     I'm getting all worked up. Nervous, excited and embarrassed. My hands are sweaty, the butterflies in my stomach still lingers after all this years.

    

Now that I fulfill my promise and resume my guts I think I'm ready to face you. This time, I have changed.  But the fact that you're still the most important person in my life never changes. Not a single day I missed to wish for your happiness.

     I'm home.

     And it takes 8 hours to reach you.

Seems like those hours played great deal in our lives. Here on the solid ground, in this messy dust particles wet by the rain.

Not knowing eight hours just passed…

"Have you hanging for a long time, huh?"  I murmured though I am certain that no one will respond.

"I've brought you a present." I smiled as I tried to hide the bundle from my back. But what's the use? Even if you always tell me that it makes you happy about the essence of surprise.

"Here, your favorite star gazer. Now, you will not have a reason to be jealous of other girls." She lay there as usual. Always, always so quite.

Six feet under, with my memories of her. No—with her life.

"I've finished school and I want you to be the first person to know." Here, where I stand lays a beautiful name, spelled out clearly with bold text. I looked at my watch and faced her again. "Time will run out huh?" I scratch my head and apologized to her, "I'm sorry, seems like I'm eight hours late again… like that day…