Describe your summer:

A particularly bad relationship you’ve had:

probably don’t think much of that, but I do every single day. Every line of every novel, play, or 

poem is just another reminder of me surrendering to my weakness. 

 Because the truth is, I want to hate it. I really do. I  want to hate the idea of characters fighting 

off malicious villains,  or the gentle sway of a poem, and even the books from the last century 

that make everyone else want to doze off. But secretly…(stares longingly into the distance) it’s 

everything I could ever ask for.  

Don’t tell this to my students, but... I want to be the cool guy. I wish to have a confident stride in 

my walk, or keep my desk in a level of clutter that doesn’t seem intentionally disorganized, or 

even grow a beard long enough to make me seem wiser than my years. But it’s not my thing.  

So instead, I’ll encourage my students to join me in a game of football every Wednesday, and I’ll 

tell them to turn down their happy pop songs that make me want to groove out in the middle of 

class every so often because of their infectious rhythms. Well, they don’t need to know that. 

They don’t need to see me sniffling over the end of a novel or banging my fists on a desk when 

they kill of my favorite character (clenches fist in anger). As a teacher, it’s my duty to keep 

everything neutral and straight to the point, with the least amount of emotion as possible. It’s 

much easier leading a class (shouts) TALKING IN A LOUD VOICE SO EVERYONE TAKES 

EVERYTHING SERIOUSLY. 

And even though my students may not enjoy writing their fair share of narratives or essays, I 

enjoy reading them. Each and every one of them. Well, almost all of them (looks at a student). 

As I was running quickly to the class, I noticed him tagging along behind me at a similar pace. With a small smile, he breaks the silence during our walk by pointing out how late we were. I responded in agreement, and let the small talk exhaust itself in a matter of seconds. 

I went over to my usual spot and set my bag down before heading to work. And like a little puppy, he follows right behind me, setting his bag in the seat right next to mine. Does he not have any other friends here? What does a junior want with a freshman he just met? Throughout the day, he makes persistent efforts to talk to me about everything and anything. Life, school, the future, his musical accomplishments. He seemed to miss the point that I didn’t care to listen about his life story. By the end of the day, he creeped his way behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. In a sorrowful manner, he sighs, “I have to get going.” “Fantastic! Have a wonderful rest of your life!” I think to myself. Before I can even begin to mutter a carefully planned goodbye with false enthusiasm, he cuts to the chase.

“I have to be honest with you. I already knew who you were. Your friend shared your profile with me. I’m impressed. No really, you seem like such an accomplished person for a freshman.” I made a mental note to talk bring up the meaning of boundaries the next time I spoke with my friend.

“Oh, really? Good to know.”

“So can I have your number now?” And because I was too empathetic of a person to turn him down, I gave it to him, not thinking too much of it. It’s not like he’d actually want to text me back. I assumed it was one of those high school things where people just had each other’s numbers to have say that had it. Without any warning, he crossed my safety bubble. He went for it, thinking he was that slick. The hug. Don’t be mistaken, I was naive, but not that naive. I gave him a quick tap on the shoulder with my hand and nodded my head as if to tell him that he should probably put a stop to his touchy-feely behavior. Thinking about his clammy hands on my back makes me shiver to this day.

Within 5 minutes of that awkward encounter, my phone lights up with a notification from an unfamiliar number. 

And that, my friends, was the beginning of a downfall.

Throughout the week, I had accumulated approximately 30 messages. To shut him up, I answered one time that week and that was it. The problem here was that he obviously had no clue he was being pushy, and I didn’t know how to call him out on it.  So, the best solution I could come up with at the time was just to ignore him.

This is not including the repeated messages, nor the distasteful selection of emojis. This went on for about a month. He would send me something, and I would ignore it. He’d ask “Why aren’t you answering?”, and I’d lamely reply, “My phone is broken!” Luckily for me, he didn’t press for questions and simply accepted what I told him. At this point, I realized that he had a crush on me, but another part of me really hoped that it wasn’t true.

Unfortunately for me, all of my suspicions came to light when this entire “friendship” reached its breaking point. What I am about to recount was, by far, my most vivid memory of this entire ordeal. Throughout the span of the week, he kept asking to sit by me during lunch. I’d come up with an excuse that I needed to be by myself to rehearse material for class. “No problem, I can be quiet. If you want, I can give you pointers on how to sing.” At this point, I was agitated. This young man, had the nerve to come up to me and give me pointers on how to do something when he was 1.) invading my personal quiet time and 2.) agreeing to something I never asked for in the first place. So, masking my complete aversion, I forced a smile out of my tense face and told him that I just wanted to be alone. He thought his look of disappointment would phase me, but I just went about my day as if he hadn’t come to rain on my parade. 

He then felt inclined to ask if I had a moment to chat somewhere a little more private. In my mind, I had this instinct that told me this would not end well by any means. I went along with him anyway, thinking he probably wanted to ask me something personal. We walked to an area that seemed no more better than the first, and by this time he began to to turn a little red. Again, all the signs were pointing to the fact that this truly was not going to end well. He took a deep breath, likely collecting himself, and in the most exaggerated breathy tone he could muster, he whispered:

“What are we?”

Seriously? He was obviously building up to his golden question, but honestly, I’d rather he just get to the point. No need for any cliches, or smooth buildups because this wasn’t going to give him any extra points. But if he was going to start with games, I would certainly play along.

“What?”

“I mean, well- just… What are we?”

“Um, friends?”

“Oh...right. Friends. Of course. Really, are we nothing more?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I really like you as like, more than a friend. Do you want to go out with me sometime?”

I felt a little bad. He really thought he had a shot, despite ignoring all of the signs pointing to the fact that I didn’t reciprocate those feelings. But, I still wanted to turn him down gently, because being blunt was never in my nature.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not really looking for that right now. I have to set my priorities straight, and school always comes first. I probably won’t consider dating until college or something.”

But he wasn’t giving up so easily.

“So, if I asked you next year, would your answer change?”

“No.”

“How about just a small hang out. You could even bring a friend if you’d like?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? We could spend some time together, as friends. Are you sure you aren’t going to change your mind if I asked next year?”

Not for a thousand years. “I don’t think so.”

For the second time that day, he gave me another look of disappointment. A senior who stood right beside us had unfortunately witnessed this entire situation unfold, to make things even more painfully awkward. I saw them glance with embarrassment and walk away quickly, shaking their head slowly and averting their eyes. Things after that began to slow down, thankfully. He stopped sending me strings of good morning texts, and we went our separate ways. A few months later, he unexpectedly came up to me and apologized for all of his behavior and asking me out, claiming he was out of line and not in the right headspace. I forgave him, anyway. If there was anything I learned from sharing this rather uncomfortable experience, is that sometimes, you just have to say no. And that’s completely okay.

 Can a man become any more weaker kneeling before something so abstract, so unsure? How one can place all dependency in a higher power? Why do that, when that energy can be placed to an alternative where possibility manifests from the hands and the mind? Completely at your whim. I must go, for my own protection. How else could I most easily fit in, in a town so devoted to faith and destiny? Little do they know, that their prayers are seemingly useless defense against the power of my words. Surely, one has learned from stories the fate of singling out the town witch- and it’s never ended well. 

I take what I want, and I do as I please. A motto so baseless, so non conflicting, that seems so right. What I have, is not a gift of the believed spiritual graces, nor the syncopated forces of the universe. It’s all done by me, yours truly. No matter what I do I can’t seem to stop. It’s not a force of habit, I call it a primal instinct. I’ve never played by the rules of the world, and sticking to my roots, I confide to what I am. I am not afraid to lose, because I’ve never lost. Not yet. 

After the sermon, I join the crowd of women for the latest gossip on the whereabouts of 

One speaks of her recent engagement, while the other speaks of a job opportunity. They are poised and plaster confident smiles. I smile too, but it is not real. The women are young, younger than me, and believe they are standing on top of the world. A once familiar, but now long gone feeling that I once had myself. “You’re so destined for greatness,” another woman exclaims. “You have so much going for you, maybe you’re the lucky one who can finally escape this boring place,” says another. They turn to me and they wait for my reaction, but all I can think of in the moment is, “Good to hear.” This will not do. There are no lucky ones here, and there never will be. 

As the women continue their banter, they mention a dozen more times their congrats and happiness for the woman in the spotlight.

I cannot bring myself to understand their happiness. The happiness of the greater good, all for one and one for all. There is nothing weaker than a man kneeling for those who have already lost. A sinking feeling within your chest for the mere expectancy of self-sacrifice. In fact, my blood boils when I hear of it. The closest to sympathy I possess are the coos and whines of false comfort I instill in my kin and those who I am bound to by the sacred bonds of ‘friendship’. The reason for this is that I have lost missed out in much of my life. I have traveled down certain paths that I regret, and I have made mistakes. Mistakes that not are even reversible through spells. I wished to have an advantage in some way. Seeing those around me prosper, excel in a talent, become truly successful, made me feel powerless. 

As the women say their goodbyes for the day, I specifically direct my attention to that one particular woman. She moves with grace, and her smile seems to enlighten those around her. But we can’t have this. We don’t need radiance. After all, can you understand what good truly is if you haven’t seen all of the bad? She reaches for a hug, but she is not ahead of my thinking. I reach bag, and while her arms envelop me for a short time, I quickly pluck the loose strand of golden blonde hair from her shirt. I keep it within a tight grip, but this time I grow a genuine smile. Her eyes reek of innocence, while mine hold a glint of mischief. For now that I have a piece of her so small, it will be enough to commence her new beginning. One of loss, pain, and disappoinment. I grip the strand tighter. Maybe someday she will realize. And I can hope that she will understand. When she has seen the bitterness of the natural world. The ruthlessness that leaves tattered souls for the dust. 

By all means, out me, if you feel so inclined. The one who questions faces greater peril than those who hide. This, I have learned from experience. And by the very nature of it, let this be my happiness. And for you, I can bring all that you desire, or perhaps, all that you fear the most. 

Feel your heart sink

Thinking it was 5.

You should know better than to make judgements so early.

It’s too late to get it all done now

Roll with the flow

Before you sink to greater depths of confusion

Get used to it.

You deserve some vanity

A quick fix with your finest wear

Maybe the embellished jeans,

A velvet jacket- No!

The leather one shouts, “Don’t mess with me!”

Just what you’re going for.

Rugged, but neat.

Dangerous, but suave.

Look in the mirror and nod.

Go for it, add some fancy dangles here and there.

Decorate gold along the wrists, the ears, the neck.

Look the part to get the part, 

A solid mantra for the day.

One moment, just one, let the tension release.

Feel the heat begin to course through your body.

Hold on to it, let yourself feel it. Keep it.

Don’t even think about it.

Think about it now.

Familiar twists and turns, familiar faces, all too familiar sinking feeling.

You’re here. 

With a wave of goodbye to mom, you are truly left alone.

Because these battles are yours to conquer, remember?

Own the floors you walk on

Energize your steps, your walk, 

With a classic power ballad.

Forget the 30 pounds worth of books you’re lifting.

Words really can be heavy.

Let your body pick up a gentle rhythm, a bounce.

One foot in front of the other, 

Not side to side, head slumped, like the person next to you.

Rough morning, my friend?

Have yet to relate. I still got time. 

If time is still on my side.

Walk in, let the air change and wrap itself around you.

The warmness will drain out, to be replaced with chill.

Only your hands feel it, your body protected by the extra effort you took this morning.

Good on you. 

Walk toward the sound of furious clicks and those with the furrowed brows.

Yes, your group. Yes, your group.

Don’t let their moping wear you down, you’ve done so well!

You’ve got something they don’t: confidence.

Artificial, but close enough.

Could never go wrong with a mask.

One strap starts to slip, one bag goes down.

It all collapses: books, papers, lunch.

Pick it up. Now.

First sign of instability. Let’s hope it doesn’t reflect the next 10 minutes ahead.

Avoid their side glares. Not worth your time.

They glance again, this time with a shimmer of hope.

Here it comes, brace yourself.

“Can you do it?”

And there it, the golden question.

They ask with relief, knowing your answer.

Oblige with their request, you’re most suited for these situations anyway.

A shout across the room is your saving grace.

Each second is valuable now.

Let your eyes scan for keywords. 

Get the gist.

Get the flow. You had it before. You got it now.

Scan the notes, the patterns, rhythms, sentences, ideas.

Yes, I remember. 

Music to my ears.

Sure, of course, how could I miss this?

Oh yeah, I knew it before!

Sigh with relief.

Time’s up.

Sound of silence- naturally.

Mental drum roll…

You’re first. Ah, fantastic.

Your job to set the bar high.

High, head held high.

Walk with bounce. 

Confidence is key.

Leather jacket, you’re fierce.

Golden.

A deep breath…

And let the words flow.

Add finality to thoughts.

Expressive, loud, use your hands!

Eye contact.

Key words.

Head high. 

Feet shoulder width apart.

Yes, you might be rambling.

But they don't know.

But then, unbeknownst to you,

It will all come natural.

It will feel like a part of you.

And suddenly, you're not pretending.

We part with the shadow whispering wrongs into the sensitive ears of every familiar face I know.

We part with its false comfort, and heavy touch on the shoulder when your own family member refuses to acknowledge your existence. 

We part with its fingers on the corners of their mouth, twisting their lips into elastic smiles that snap to frowns with a simple gesture.

We part with its hypnotism, creating blank stares in their eyes as you look across each of them, as you try to carry them along through powers of a song.

But that power is weak against it. It’s a buzz against its great roar of envy.

We turn away from its fruitful dances as it takes the final sliver of room, on the concrete pavement, pushing me to follow from the back- like the good friend I am.

We turn away from its shrugs when you sit alone in the empty table, because it knows those people don’t want you anywhere near them. 

If there is one thing I can thank it for, it's for helping me see see the bad in all the supposed good. Why don’t we thank them: for helping us see the bad overlooked for every good in our lives? Wherever would we be without it?

I’ve always wondered what someone with a newfound freedom does with it, or even how they feel. Today I know. I’ve asked: How can one begin to understand freedom if they’ve been chained from little feet? Well- you don’t. Because truth be told, its powers never goes away. To some degree, you are always bound to them. The calloused hands around your neck, tightening its firm grip- a deadly, silent reminder that you don't belong. 

But by painfully turning away, we open our eyes to something new...

Now, we embrace newfound strength in ourselves, to bury the isolation from envy. How we use it and when we will use it, there is no clear answer. But though we may seem weak, we are in fact, more powerful than we can imagine.

Congratulations—you have just completed your final class of Creative Writing, and your final days here at Northside College Prep have arrived. You did it! Now, you can finally relieve yourself with a deep sigh and smile of pride. In some other dimension of the past, I am only reminiscing of your emotional state of energy, livelihood, and most importantly liberation (at least to some degree, hopefully). Instead, my time is consumed by a never-ending thrill ride of responsibilities, assignments, due dates, and everything of the sort. I can already picture you laughing while reading this sentence, throwing it over your shoulder because “it’s a thing of the past”. It is currently college season, which means deadlines are quickly approaching. It also means that I am waiting for pre-screen results, as well as awaiting scholarship opportunities and all the other applications I have yet to complete. My thoughts are clouded with possible career paths, plans for the future, what to do after college, and the list just goes on. Again, I can see you shaking your head. I know I am thinking way ahead of myself, but it is natural to ponder over these thoughts.

At this point in time, you have decided where you are going for college, maybe even selected a major or two (I know that you’ve been eyeing English for quite a while). No matter where you decided to go, just know that in the grand scale of the world, it is meaningless. I hear the chorus of gasps coming from just about every student here. This is something that I am coming to terms with, but by the upcoming future I hope that philosophy has mentally stabilized. Wherever you go, it will be up to you to take that knowledge beyond the classroom. Opportunities await for those who work passionately and consistently. I hope that by this final class, I have come out of the “Northside Cave” and seen the light that lies beyond these closed walls. Walls that have programmed me to think a certain way, and see life through such a narrow set of lens. I know that you see that are things more valuable from that acceptance letter that Northsiders deem the holy grail. There is more to life, and now you finally get to see it. The following things are often overlooked on the Northside scale of importance, but hopefully they are at the very top of yours. Your little sister—who adores you more than anything else in the world. Your parents—who have sacrificed enough to see you succeed. Your happiness, your health. I wish to see energy placed in these things, rather than unnecessary overexertion for tests, papers, and even college. When your formal education reaches its end, these are the things that will have not. So, keep your priorities in check!

Oh, and another thing! Now that you’re closing the door to one chapter of your life, the same goes to many people you have come to know these last four years (friend or not). Of the bunch are those who criticized, ignored, and impeded upon your person. How does that feel? You probably realize that whatever opinions, thoughts, or criticisms they had of you have all dissipated beneath your feet as you climb your next step. I have always envisioned my senior year of high school to be one of reflection. Where a child not only transitions to young adulthood, but the young adult has formed their own attitude of the world. An attitude that no one can easily come to wreck. When I envision you, this is the person I picture. Life has much to offer, and your next journey is shaped by what you make of it. Make it memorable, because you are capable of more than you know.

Best of luck, 

Elvina of the Past

Describing a blossoming infinity,

A gateway to happiness and success.

Opening minds and imaginations,

A worldwide sensation,

Tender hearts and minds, you caress.

Taught to reach for the stars

Because you told us they weren’t far

And we believed you wholeheartedly.

Wrapped in a consuming fantasy

The end is so clear, I innocently decree

“There is a chance, and it’s waiting for me!”

But time hears your stories,

And menacingly despises your glory,

Cursing our lives with age.

Children no more, binded to reality

Open our eyes to constructed insanity

Your risks and struggles become terrifying baggage.

We hear your pleas,

Us children with dreams

Now question which is the worthy desire: 

One with burning passion,

Or one where cash comes in?

But, we decide to burn out the fire.

Because now we are older

And suddenly less bolder

There is no clear vision of what is best.

What’s left is your ashes, we surrender this to time

Not met with soft cries, or a simple “goodbye”

But in accord, we lay you gently to rest.

-E.B.

A bat of an eye

Life flashes, it wastes no time

To reach the deadline

-- E.B.

Give your thoughts a voice

Listen, you know more than you think!

Speak up, take your chance.

-- E.B.

5 “Honarary Titles” People Would Use to Memorialize your Student Career

5 People I’d Like to Thank:

My Northside experience is coming to an anti-climactic close, which apparently means I have a boatload of knowledge to offer. I think back to our conversation when you told me you wished to attend Northside someday, and in response I almost fainted. Whether you choose Northside’s version of the high school experience or not, there are a few valuable things I personally believe will come in handy wherever you choose to go. 

Hopefully, these have offered you some peace of mind. I strongly suggest staying a kid forever, if you can. Enjoy the adventures that await you at eleven years old, whatever that may entail. 

Your sister,

Elvina