I Need You : Nadynn Morrison

You walked away from me. I was powerless to stop you. Nothing would work, I knew it in my heart. I could beg, cry, get angry but you'd still walk away. I was always the person to leave. What a feeling it was to watch you go. I never expected that my heart could be ripped apart so easily. Silently, tears fell from my face as you left. The sound of the door closing, the final straw. Where did my emotional stability go? As I fell down, I lost everything. You had become a part of my life I couldn't do without. And yet, you left. Sometimes I wonder if the only thing that could've made you stay was if I told you I loved you. How could I? When I didn't even know myself. I never felt love so strong as the moment you gave me up. Even knowing as I do now, I don't think I could have said it. Even if it would have made you stay. I'm sleeping in sorrow now. Wishing everyday to see you and knowing I won't. I would never leave you. I see that now. Do you still love me? Once you promised you would always come back to me. Will you keep that promise or is it different now that you're no longer disillusioned by me. I'll keep holding onto that promise. Hoping for you to be here one day. Just like the days of the past. How did we even met? I wish I could say we had some monument moment. A beautiful memory that I could tell everyone when we get married and even to the children we would have if you came back. Sadly, nothing of the sort happened. I can't even remember the moment we met. Gradually, over time, you became a part of my life. I told you I would never date you. That I would never love you. Yet, somehow we became something. All the sweet memories of being together are not spoiled by our fights that only brought us closer. Do you remember the ultimatum you gave me? Together or apart? You should have known that when you asked me if I could ever love you that I already did even though I hadn't noticed. Instead you said if I couldn't that you were going to leave. No time to answer, I just watched you walk away. You said I made you strong. Are you strong now? Far away from me. Do you need me now? Or have you become strong on your own and no longer need me? I need you.

Love's Briar Patch : Krysta Walker

Falling in love for the first time. You don’t even know that you’re doing it. Imagine that you’re falling down a hill, but you feel like you’re floating, so you don’t even know that you’re falling. Not even when you hit the bottom, a pit of roses, do you realize that the roses have thorns. Those thorns are digging into your hips and snagging your hair, but all you feel are smooth kisses, soft touches, light breezes. All you see is a clear blue sky, but you don’t realize that you’re looking up, laying on your back in the mud. All you feel is the sweet summer air floating above your face and you don’t realize that you’re slipping deeper and deeper. You don’t realize until you've rolled all the way to the bottom of the pit and are crawling out. It’s then that you see that you’re covered in cuts and bruises, that you’re cold and bleeding. That the sun is still shining, but the wind is biting. So you’re standing on that hill, barely making it, still you’re standing. And you look back down there, into that pit, and even though you see all those sharp thorns and the mud all over you, even though all of the warmth is gone, you still remember. You still have goose bumps from the breeze. You can still smell the roses. And the worst part about love, the worst and best, the part that gets us all in the end, is that you know that you’d gladly fall down that hill, into the pit and the thorns and the mud, a thousand times more.

The Sword Of Damocles (Dread) :Nadynn Morrison

When you're reading and suddenly you feel that feeling. We all know it. The feeling of dread. You're reading and everything is fine. There's no sign something bad is going to happen. No this is not a Stephen king novel I'm talking about. There's no dread at every turned page, no wondering. Just a normal calm novel. The characters have had their ups and downs but nothing too serious. You've felt sympathy and excitement and love. But it's in that moment you never expected.
As I said everything is fine. Two people could be driving and chatting away happily like any other day and you're just happy and laughing with them. But then a thought crosses your mind. No reason, no purpose behind it but now you've felt the dread. Because everything was fine and if you stop and look back, everything still fine but you'll move forward and maybe everything will still be fine but maybe it won't be. You're dreading every word, waiting for the impossible to happen. And when it doesn't, you feel relieved and wondered why you ever worried. There was nothing there to make you worry. So why had you? Because not every time you will be relieved. There will be a time where you are dreading every word after your unwarranted thought and it happens.
The impossible.
Another car turning loses control on ice and the car crash happens. Lives are endangered. And you knew it would happen. You felt the dread but there was nothing you could do to stop it. There were no signs it would happen but you still felt the dread. It's in that moment your life changes. It's not only when reading stories but in our everyday life that we feel that overcoming dread.
But so often it is relieved that we forget there was a passing thought of dread.

A dream? (DeAndrea Farries)

It’s raining, and I am in the middle of it. My clothes are soaked, and my hair is sticking uncomfortably to my forehead. I stare down at my reflection in the pools of water, and the image makes me frown. I look like some sort of bum. My clothes are heavy with water, and they hang awkwardly off my frame. My baggy pants would fall down to my ankles, if I wasn’t holding them up. I should have put a belt on this morning. “Hey, hey! Boss!” I had dazed off and didn’t notice that someone was calling me until I bumped into a body. They hit the ground and I glanced down. “Oh, hey there Brice.” Brice is a scrawny little kid, who looks a lot younger than he already is. And as clumsy as he is naïve. I didn’t bump into him that hard, but he’s a featherweight. I’m surprised that a gust of wind didn’t blow him away. The boy is just as soaked as I am, though his smile counters my frown. “B-Boss-“ “Stop calling me that, kid. I have a name.” “Sorry…um, Elliot. I’ve been looking for you all day! The crew’s been wondering where you went off to last night.” He gets to his feet and tries to dust off his pants. I guess he forgot the fact that mud was wet. Instead he smears the mud making a much larger mess. He eventually gives up and I shake my head. “Go tell ‘em that I just wanted some alone time. I needed to breathe. I can’t be around you guys every fucking second of the day, kid.” Brice nodded, his hair getting in his face as he does so. “Yes ma’am... er, Elliot.” I sigh and begin to walk again, passing him. I wave back to him lazily. “Tell ‘em to stop sending you around like an errand boy. Communicators exists, they should use one.” … The rain finally calms down, and so does the hustle and bustle of the people. I make it to the other side of town, just as things began to clear up. As I walk I spot a small café and, deciding that it was best to find some shelter, headed inside. The place is small, and cramped. And it’s obvious that I wasn’t the only person who had this idea. I push past people, and awkwardly bump into furniture, until I find an empty table. Once seated my shoulders slump, I exhale audibly, and I relax. “This is better than nothing.” I close my eyes, for what seems like a second before I hear voices. They are close, and I realize that they are directed at me. “Is she asleep,” this person’s voice is soft and low. They’re probably whispering. “Looks like it,” this voice is different. Their tone has a husky edge to it, yet it sounds even. I open my eyes and sit up quickly. My vision is blurry at first, but it clears as I look up from the table. How long was I asleep? “Oh, we were too loud.” Two women stand before me. Though they aren’t much taller, It feels like they are looming over me. They are both peculiar looking people who seem out of place, while at the same time belonging. They are dressed in the same dull colors that populate the city, but the color looks as if it is more of an obligation. The tallest is thin and her limbs are a bit long and lanky, yet still athletic. I can only tell that she’s female from the soft features of her face. Her hair is styled short, and the color of sand. And her eyes are the gray of the clouds outside. Her clothing compliments her figure while at the same time disguises it. The other woman is small, yet is shapelier. She has more weight on her than her companion, but not much. Her hair is also short, and styled in a pixie cut. It is white, and I assume that it’s been dyed. She is dressed more feminine with a shirt that exposes her shoulders and has loose sleeves. The shirt is tucked into a skirt that hugs the curves of her thighs and stops above her knees- “Can we sit here?” How long had I’d been staring at them. How long have I been staring at them?

Fluorescent Adolescent

Fluorescent Adolescent

 Krysta Walker 

Down at the playground, there was this awful seven year old named Mavis. Mavis had this hobby, a dear past time of hers that entailed kicking me around the jungle gym. I remember this one time, Mavis kicked me so hard, it sent me right up the big kids slide and I couldn’t come down until Ms. Turner wobbled into the yard and got me down herself. Through all the tears and snot that seemed to be oozing from my face, I caught a glimpse of old Mavis slumped in a corner laughing till water squeezed from her squinty little eyes.

Anyway, it was around Christmas time and Mavis was in fine form. I had bruises all over my shins and things and my head was sore from where she had tried to yank one of my long red braids right off my scalp.

I was busy in my playroom at home, the snow was falling outside my window like dollops of sour cream. I was reenacting Mavis’ most recent act of terrorism with my Barbie dolls.

 Barbie marched right up to itty bitty Kelly and smacked Kelly’s lunch right out of her little doll hands. Kelly smiled blankly down at the spilled goods while Barbie scooted off to a corner to laugh and snort and live happily ever after. I opened the window and stuck Barbie in the snow, forcing her to deal with her issues.

My brother, Scott, was standing out in the blizzard, stupidly trying to light a cigarette, and the noise from the window nearly made him drop the match.

“Christ, Brenda don’t go sticking your dolls in the snow when I’m out here! Cheese and crackers I thought you was momma.” He was shaking so bad that this time he actually did drop the match along with the cigarette in the snow.

“She needs to learn a lesson! Barbie needs to learn it’s not okay to drop Kelly’s lunch, or kick her shins, or poke her with pencils, or yank her pigtails.” I rubbed my head.

He looked up at me sympathetically. “Mavis giving you trouble at school again?” I nodded.

“Well listen, Bren. Mavis is a bad kid. And you know how Santa feels about bad kids, right? So just you wait ‘til Christmas day. You’ll be wakin’ up with all kinds of goodies and all ol’ Mavis’ll find in her lumpy stocking is a big brick of coal!” I smiled. Then I sneezed, and Scott bustled me back into my room since I was letting all the heat out.

The next few weeks, when I went to school and took my beatings from Mavis, I did it with a Kelly smile on my face, picturing Mavis’ piggy face all screwed up with tears when she finds out that all her gift is good for is smoking on the fire.

Mavis took no mind, and even came up with some of her greatest tricks that winter. I was smiling when I found my books frozen under the ice in the little pond behind the school. I chuckled a little when I saw a frog hopping and twitching in my sack lunch. I even managed a feeble “Oh, Mavis,” when her oversized feet landing on my little fingers had caused me to double over in pain.

I had that smile super glued to my face all the way until when they let us out for a week before Christmas. I had the time of my life that break, playing with Scott in the snow. Getting money in the mail from my grandparents. And on Christmas day, when I saw that shiny red Radio Flyer tricycle, all I could think of was the fact that, at that exact moment, Mavis was unwrapping her coal.

Imagine how heartbroken I was when, upon my return to class, I found Mavis sporting a brand new bright pink fleece coat and shiny red boots.

“Look what Santa brought me, everyone! Look what Santa brought me!”

I was betrayed. I had trusted Santa. This man whose mantra was “be good for goodness sake”!

For goodness sake.

With a peculiar animal cry that was quite muted on account of my scarf being wrapped tightly around my mouth, I launched myself onto Mavis and began raining on her head with punches and slaps. I freed my mouth and fastened it on her cheek.

It was quite a spectacle.

When the principle asked me why I punched and bit Mavis and what did she do to me, I growled through clenched teeth; Ask Santa.

And that was my first school suspension. 

Janette

Krysta Walker

               The sky was overcast and threatening rain. Most people hurried from place to place, avoiding the rain that hadn't come yet. One woman stood in place on the side walk. She checked her watch and glanced anxiously around her, pulling her coat tight. She shuffled in the cold, puffing out her cheeks. She bent to adjust the strap on her red heels.

            You stood on the opposite street. You looked at her, wondering what she was waiting for. You checked your own watch and realized how long you'd been outside the restaurant. Your cigarette had long ago burnt out, you having only smoked half of it. Everyone was probably wondering where you went. You looked through the window behind you at the people laughing and drinking wine. If you peered hard enough you could see your party towards the back. They were all smiling politely. They held onto their drinks awkwardly, not wanting to be the first to finish.

            You shoved your hands further into your pockets, touching the lint. Your attention went back to the woman across the street. She had gone into the convenience store and was buying something from the cashier. She walked back out to the sidewalk, hastily opening her purchase: a carton of cigarettes. She slid one into her mouth and shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. She rummaged through her purse then seemed to deflate as she dropped the cigarette inside. You felt the lighter in your pocket. You pulled your hand out of your pocket and checked the time. You'd been outside for twenty minutes.

            Your hands were freezing. Your jacket was not heavy enough for the weather. An icy drop landed on your head followed by several more. The woman checked her watch one more time then held out her arm, hailing a taxi. As the yellow car pulled up to the curb, she wiped the rain from her face, or were they tears? She climbed into the car and drove away.

            You looked at the sky before walking back into the restaurant. As you sat at your seat, Sarah looked at you curiously. She touched your face with her napkin, asking about the rain. You muttered something. Her parents laughed. Her father punched you gently in your arm and wondered aloud at where you had gone.

            You looked outside at the rain and thought about the woman. You gave a vague answer. No more questions were asked. You had overcooked steak and two extra glasses of scotch and the rain continued to fall.  

Into The Ravine

Krysta Walker

They held hands, fingers overlapping, pulling strength from each other. They looked over the rocks, past their feet; saw the rushing water and debris like an evil tempest, a quick escape.

 She looked at him, he looked at her. Her hand was lifted and brought to his mouth.

"I love you," spilled his love.

"And I love you," poured hers, down her face, dripping from her quivering chin. Not quivering with fear. Not weeping in sadness, but in excitement; readiness.

He took a final squeeze. She took a final breath.

They closed their eyes.

And they jumped.