April Writers!!!!

Happy April :)

I hope you are enjoying this beautiful weather.  We have a great set of reads this month with lots of Flash Fiction.  So, find a comfortable place to relax, grab your phones and start reading.  There are ten pieces this month.  Please, read ALL of them.  Choose five to leave thoughtful and considerate comments for the writer.  Your comments are due by Sunday, April 16.

Writers,

Keep an eye on your page and follow the comments.  Choose at least two and respond.   Also, leave comments for three of your fellow writers. You can very well respond to all of your page comments.  Your comments are due Tuesday, April 18.

We only have one more set of submissions left for the 2016-2017 school year :(

Enjoy your reading this month.

See you in class,

Mrs. Solano

I remember when...--Andrew

I remember when I met you.

There’s a certain beauty to how much of our emotions we can’t put into words. The things we’ve wanted to say. Opportunities that change our paths forever depending on whether or not that single step was taken in a million different directions. The fact that lives intertwine and not forever, just brief moments that appear and disappear as the world drones on.

So much noise.

 So many people.

And then there’s you.

It’s quiet now.

Our single moment could’ve lasted a lifetime, that is until that server rammed half his tray of champagne glasses into my chest. You rushed over like an old friend. The smile on your face seemed so genuine and familiar. A flurry of responses rushed through my head and all I could muster was a measly “Thanks”. I thought so hard about it.

Had we met before? No. Impossible. I’d only seen you sit across the room at Lenno’s and order the same medium cup of Pike’s roast every other Sunday. Sorry they didn’t have the scones last time. No one told you how dry the muffins tended to be either. You were always working and that crease I love would form on your brow as it always has when you focus. The bean grinder never failed to remind me that time was still running. Conversations and keyboard clicks filled the space again.

So much noise.

So many people.

But there you were.

It’s quiet now.

The screaming monitor beeps woke me up again like an alarm clock. They weren’t mine, but the howling and sobbing in the adjacent room told me that someone’s clock ran out.

I’ve never liked these situations. Everything is so clean and artificial. Rooms like these are made for holding life until it flourishes or withers. You don’t know where I’m headed. I know where you’re headed. You left only a while ago for the hotel room. I hope the sheets aren’t too brittle. I know I’m missing ours back at home. For once in my life time without you seems unbearably slower than when you're actually around. My monitor just joined the chorus of sincerity in my head. They’ve all said their gooodbye’s and brought their displays of sympathy. But not you. You told me, “I’ll see you in the morning,” and your sweet smile warmed me as much as the kiss you planted on my forehead. The monitor contends with those words.

So much noise.

So much noise.

Sleep well, sweetheart.

It’s quiet now.

Allegiance to a flag--Tyler

So there’s room 201, 202, 203… Why am I even going this way? I’m on the fourth floor. Man, if that old man hadn’t stopped me to babble about my melanin, maybe my mind wouldn’t be such a mess right now. Nothing like running into a bigot on the day I move into my dorm. I’m just glad I don’t have to see him again. Time to go back to that broom closet of an elevator.

Hmmm. I wonder if my dad’s on his way back from the car. I really hope he’s not talking to anyone or getting into an argument. Where’s Arthur? I need to stop worrying about everything.

Finally, the fourth floor. Let’s see… 410… 406…Ahh here we are, 402. Home, sweet home.

 “Oh goodness, I didn’t realize that anyone came in. Hi, I’m Jim. You must be Arthur.”

“Yeah, but you can call me Arty; that’s what my friends call me. Nice to meet you. I take it this is my bed up here.”

“Yeah. I thought you might like to be top.”

 “How considerate of you. You have no idea.” Wow. Let me just unpack my stuff before things get even weirder.

Is that a pride flag he just pulled out? “Cool uhh… flag. Are you…?” What are you doing, Jim? You don’t just brazenly ask people that question. Geez; now he probably hates me.

 “My twin brother died in the Pulse shooting; I have this flag mostly to honor him, but I’m also bisexual. He and I used to have a bunk bed just like this.” Well at least I got that out of the way now. I just pray he doesn’t ask me if that means I’m straight or gay. “Oh, Arthur, I’m sorry for your loss; I didn’t know…” Saved by the knock, thank goodness! “That must be my dad. Hey dad, what took you so long to get here? This is my roommate, Arthur.”

Not this man again. “Oh, I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting him.” And now the attack ensues. There are the typical racial slurs from before… No. Way! Did this man really just pull a confederate flag from his back pocket? This is lowkey hilarious: the ignorance, the flag, th-.

 Did my dad really just say that? “Dad…”

 Okay. That’s the last straw! “I could deal with the racism, but do not, for a second, think that I’m okay with you saying that more people should’ve been killed in the Pulse shooting! And its LGBT, thank you very much. Also, I’m not gay, but guess what? I just so happen to find your son attractive…”

Arty thinks I’m attractive?

… Well I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’ve not only awakened the beast, but also notified Jim. Great job, Arty! “Look. That flag is above my bed because I believe that people are being senselessly oppressed, hurt, or even killed because of who they are attracted to; my brother died because he stood for that flag. I have that flag because I am tolerant and open-minded. I have that flag because I believe in peace, unity, and equality. Your little southern cloth stands for nothing but hatred, separation, ignorance, bigotry, and white supremacy. I’ll be damned if I ever stood for such detestable ideals; my allegiance is with those that don’t spend their lives looking for what makes them different from one another. THAT is why I have that flag!”

Man, that was beautiful. And to think this man said I’m attractive and he happens to also be my roommate! I can’t wait to tell him th- “Dad! Don’t talk to Arty that way! You have no right to attack people because of their appearance or sexuality. You need to stop. … Dad… I-I’m…”

Insomnia--Connor

The yellow street lamp disturbed my eyes through the blinds. Awake again. I turned away from it and checked my phone. Two-Thirty. I thought that left plenty of time to sleep before getting up, so I didn’t worry much. I sat up listening for a moment. What felt like ten minutes passed. Sleep still hadn’t found me, so I decided to go find something in the kitchen. Getting up, my plans for the week went through my head: Classwork. Project, nothing big. Lift. Something on Saturday. My mind got going with my feet, which moved along toward the fridge. It’s lights and creaking door irritated me before glancing over my options. The only one that might help at the moment, I decided, was the milk. A few moments later I found myself hunched over a glass of it staring at the oven clock. A quarter of an hour had passed since I last checked. Still not anymore tired, though. Being up at this time wouldn't normally bother me, even on a school night, but on this one I needed the rest. Writing essays after a quiz and a night spent online never ended well for my grade. I’d worried plenty about that all day, and doing so any further only made me frustrated and more conscious. I chose to think about something else, in the effort of distracting myself. Something on Saturday. What is it? I couldn’t remember anything else other than it was taking up my weekend. Something more to worry about, then. On to something else in my mind, I looked outside. The silhouettes of palms and a few stars stood out to me. I thought of idling around out there for a few moments, to clear my head. That wouldn’t solve anything. I should be asleep, not sitting here; the thought nagged at me. It repeated as I quickly returned what I had taken from the fridge and stepped through the hall. I checked my phone again before settling on my sheets. I’d managed to spend an hour and a half about and got nothing but a headache. I shut my eyes, fatigued in what seemed like every other possible way except that which induced sleep. The possibility of another sleepless day passed into my thinking. I turned in response. My head couldn’t find a comfortable position. I felt hot. Something on Saturday. All of it throbbed in my ears. I looked up toward the ceiling and took a few breaths. There wasn’t much use in forcing myself to rest. I turned again. The yellow street lamp disturbed my eyes through the blinds.

That Feeling--Austin

He sits alone on his bed, thinking, like always, about everything people had told him.  Had he found it yet? That feeling they always talk about.  Did it lie within those parked car conversations late at night? Or hidden in the web of lies weaved just to be able to spend a couple hours together. Even then, how was he supposed to know what this feeling even feels like if he’s never experienced it before. He was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t hear the phone ringing; he picks up, eagerly. “Hello?” “Hey! You got plans tonight?” He smiles, “Not anymore, what’s up?” “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out, it’s been a while.” His heart races with just the thought of seeing those green eyes again. “I’d love to!” “Great, I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

He quickly jumps into the shower, brushes his teeth, and gets dressed. There’s a knock on the bedroom door, “Come in!” His mother stands in the threshold “Hi Honey, where are you headed?” “Me and some friends are going to get something to eat for dinner.” Another strand in the web. “Ok no problem sweetie, just be home by one.”

After getting ready much earlier than needed, probably prompted by sheer excitement and anticipation, he waits for the text telling him to come outside, and when it comes, he rushes outside to a red truck and a hello kiss. “Where we headed?” he asks. “I was thinking Panda Express for some food and then we can just go for a drive.” Was the response. “Sounds good to me.” While driving, they go through the usual playlist of songs that they both sing at the top of their lungs to, even though neither of them can actually sing, but they never care.

After the drive, they head back to his home in time to be back before curfew, and a goodbye that seems to him like forever ensues. Eventually they part ways, and he returns to his room, with a feeling of completeness within. He replays the moment when he sees those eyes staring longingly at him every time they meet, realizing the truth behind the look. The truth being this feeling he feels at that very moment is exactly what they have all been telling him. He doesn’t care about the lies he’s told; one day he’ll be able to reconcile them, but the fact that this doesn’t bother him reinforces his realization that, for real this time,

He finally found it.

Our House--Skyler

As we wandered through the dry desert, treading over bushes and long ago filled river beds, we stumbled upon an old abandoned house. As I looked at Ronald, a sign as to mean “should we go in?”, he just simply shrugged at me, meaning “I’m down if you are”. We had perfected this way of speech, communication by means of eye contact and shrugging. We tentatively approached the house. The windows, some with broken glass and others coated in sand by years of dust storms. This home was no ordinary house, not only was it miles from the road, completely isolated, but also different in the way it had it’s own sense of charm and style. We walked up the cement steps which contained multiple colored marbles of all sizes and colors. Walking through the doorway a new and overwhelming feeling washed over us, not one of unease but quite the opposite, one of calm and nostalgia. Ronald looked at me as if saying “Did you feel that?” I shrugged and simply turned and continued deeper into the house. As we walked tentatively through the hallway stepping on bits of broken glass and abandoned items I couldn’t help but feel as if we were being watched. We entered into the kitchen, the cabinet doors had been ripped off their hinges but still lay on the floor covered in dust, the faded light blue wallpaper peeling from the walls. Ronald approached the pillar in the middle of the room, covered in millions of tiny intricate aged pink and no longer white tiles. “This must of taken forever, the way they’re all spaced differently someone must have done this by hand” He said. I looked around curiously and found myself drawn to the other side of the house. Through the broken windows I saw an old and decrepit shed. I slowly walked across the house paying no mind to the treasures strewn about the floor, my only thought was what could be inside...Ronald quickly grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I had almost fallen through a hole in the floor where the wood had eroded away. “What is wrong with you? You need to pay attention you could’ve gotten hurt!” he said with concern. I quickly retorted “You would never let me get hurt”, he smiled. Ronald ran back into the kitchen, and I followed. “This should be our house! Think about it! We could fix it up, make it ours and come down whenever we want”. I looked at him with confusion, he ran up to me and grabbed my hands. “I love you...please.”

Find Only One Loop--Rachel

 It pains me to say, but our “evolving” world is nothing more than a stagnant society that continues to deem certain qualities as superior. We have already breached past the year of 3000, yet we still do not allow diversity to be the mainstream. Despite our advanced technology and intelligence, we as a collective population, have decided that we must run purely on the concept of beauty.
 Yes, beauty.
Now, you may think, “Oh, Narrator! Our society of 2XXX already thrives on the documentation of celebrity lives and the growing trend of plastic surgery!” Well, yes. But no. The society I'm currently imprisoned in has created an entire caste system that is purely based on how physically attractive a person is. Once a child reaches the age of 21 (the peak and maturity of the physical body), they will be “evaluated”.
It isn't any more frightening or strenuous than the SAT or ACT; instead, it is just another standardized test that students must prepare for. When it is time for “evaluation”, the child is taken to the nearest government civilian station where they must strip down and allow the “evaluators” to take pictures of said child.
Now you must be thinking, “How perverted! How can this be allowed?!” These “evaluators” do not see any sexual intention with these children at all! There is a purpose for these pictures, you know! These pictures are created into a “profile” for said child. Of course you, the reader, must be associated with some type of social media? It's the same for us! We have a social media platform that everyone keeps as a “digital resume”, if you would say. It's called Visage. Everyone must scroll through their feed and rate the child’s profile from 1-5, 1 being ‘This child is absolutely hideous!’ to 5 being ‘This child must be blessed by God Himself!’. Their profile will be open to rates for 72 hours and once time’s up, government officials will average out the ratings and place them within the caste system. Now you’re probably thinking, “This sounds a lot like Divergent or Hunger Games!! A dystopian society dressed to look utopic!” I do agree with you that this society reflects those written on paper, but you see, your society isn’t much farther from mine. You’re all so consumed with celebrity lives that you scroll endlessly on radiofrequency radiating devices. The entire world is far more concerned with how an individual dresses rather than the true issues of war and pestilence. Our Visage is your Instagram, Snap Chat, Twitter; all of your social media is catered to physically attractive people. Humanity bickers amongst themselves about the “ideal size” or “ideal skin colour” when they overlook the easiest solution: let people be. Topics of fat shaming, slut shaming, etc. would not be an issue if society was open to the idea of diversity. Now I'm being a bit preachy here. I'll tone it down. But it's true. Humanity has come a long way, but collectively, we’re stagnant.
 I don't want to end a bit cheesy, but why not! You're reading this on your own free will, no? Then you must know what you are, don't you?
Read the first letter of each word in the title then you'll know.

Have you found more than one loop?

Are you in a loop?

Through the dark--Diane

It's hard to think everything is gonna be alright at such a time like this but all she could do is hope. She wrapped her arm around the three small children as they hid down in the cellar. She looked up trying to remember if she locked the door she looks back down as she hears the small whimpers of the 8 year old , they hear the heavy footsteps of the men upstairs. She quites the children so the me didn't hear them. All she knew is that they were three big men so when they broke in from the from the mom's room and stayed there she ran grabbed all the kids and rushed them to the cellar she called 911 but didn't know when they would get there because the signal cut off . In her head she repeated
" I will take a bullet for these kids "
One of the little girls looked up and you could see her tearful and scared eyes as she asked
" what's happening? Are we going to be okay?"
 The older girl didn't know what to say so she just said
"yes we're going to be alright"
 even though we had our doubts she wanted to give them hope. All that was heard from upstairs was glass shattering at random times so we would sit with our hands over our mouths hoping our cries would be muted as they got more and more terrified. The jiggling of the handle silenced their cries and they hoped they would walk away from the closed door. They did for the time being and it relaxed the group as they heard the heavy footsteps retreating to the loft space above.
"Oh gosh I pray they grab what they want and just leave"
 Everything had gone dead silent once again and the oldest out of the three children spoke in a hushed voice
"Do you think they are gone?"
"I hope so" the young boy said after"
 The babysitter prayed that they had gone
 Just to feel safe although she knew that the nightmares would only begin once everything had ended. They hoped the police would arrive or at least the parents who had gone to a charity event hours prior and weren't due back anytime soon. She did text them but never got a response back so all she could do was forget them and worry for the safety of the children she's looked after since they were in diapers.
 Everything was still quite until they heard the door start to rattle as if someone so desperately wanted to enter no one Spoke a word not a sound was made The babysitter thought what if it's the police what if it's not so she told the children to go to the farthest corner and hid together and not make a sound and they did . She carefully walked a couple of stairs up to try and see who it was and when she saw her heart skipped a beat it was one of the men trying to get in his all black outfit scared her so she didn't make any noise and tried to quiet lay make her way back down the stairs. When the mans shattered the glass in the door and tried to open it that way that's when her mind went to survival mode and she ran down the stairs to get the children into a better hiding spot under the stairs where the would not be seen. She knew the man would come down and he did so she begged and pleaded for him to take what he wants and leave so that's what he did.
The three kids were found crying under the stairs their memories now contaminated with fear and hurt all they could hear was the screams of the girl who would do everything for them. The children no longer would sleep in the dark they always had to have the lights no not matter what in fear that if they didn't have any lights on they would not make it through the dark and someone else would get lost and never found .The three men left and the girl was never seen again.

How to do an à la seconde turn--Tori

In the dance industry, turns are one of the most intricate things to perfect. Just to start off with some brief ballet history, the style began during the Renaissance around the year 1500 in Italy. One of the most difficult yet common turns derived from ballet is the a la seconde turn. An a la seconde turn is a classical ballet term meaning “spin with leg to the side” or “spin with leg in second position.” The dancer should be turning on their supporting leg with their other leg to the side straightened and foot pointed. It can be done en dehors or en dedans, meaning the turn can start outwards and turn inside or start inwards and turn away from. This turn may look super simple and may look like not a lot of work at all, but it most definitely takes a lot of strength from the core, leg muscle, and persistence and balance.

In all honesty, I had no idea what this term meant at first. It sounded like a French dessert..Now I am in love with these turns, and the poise and grace and form that makes the turn so effortless. Even though mine are far from perfect, I enjoy improving and bettering myself to do multiple turns or rotations at once. Want to know more on how to accomplish this turn? Keep reading friends!

The basics while turning:
● Spot while turning (look at an object to help you keep balance)
● Engage the core and straighten back
● Keep head up and balance yourself
 ● Stretch before attempting these turns so your muscles are nice and warmed up

What you need:
● A good turning space ( dance studio, kitchen, garage etc.)
 ● Preferably a sock or something that hugs the floor nicely yet is smooth enough to turn on
 ● Oh and if you have long hair, tie it up real tight so it doesn’t whip you in the face
● Yourself!

Now you’re ready!

 The turn:
 1. Prep the turn by bringing the turning leg to the side with arms straight out to the side
2. Curve arms in and bring the the turning leg to the back and plié (to bend)
3. Then open the leg while using the momentum and good core strength to allow you to lift the turning leg to about a 90 degree angle from the floor while your standing leg bends and straightens as you rotate.
4. Foot from supporting or standing leg relevés up (rises up) as the leg that is turning rotates. (Be careful not to sickle or incorrectly stretch your foot as it can lead to injuries) Make sure that foot is pointed and turned out!! 5. Arms should open when the leg is opening; arms should curve in like you are hugging a beach ball while the leg is closing 6. Practice makes perfect so the more time taken to perfect it, the more rotations you can do in the future.
 Last but not least, HAVE FUN! :)

She--Jazmin

Growing up she felt as if she always lived in a cold shadow and that everyone was out to get her. It all started on July 20th, 2015 when her world fell apart. She had a best friend who happened to be her brother and he was the reason she was so strong. Every morning at 5:00 a.m, he would wake her, pick her up, and carry her to the restroom knowing she was unmotivated and just needed a little push. Whenever she would want to stop and give up, he kept pushing her to keep going. She shared her deepest secrets and her happiest moments with him late at night with ice cream. Everyday was the same routine but always better and different each day. That was until her brother joined the military and decided he wanted to be apart of the Marine Corps family. July 20th, 2015 he left to boot camp and was going to be gone for three months. It was the drive home leaving him behind in Oceanside when she had realized she had felt empty inside. It was almost as if half of her stayed behind with him. That same night her mom entered her room explaining to her that the house was going on the market and that they need to start packing as soon as possible. Nothing seemed to be making sense, everything was going downhill and there was nothing she could do about it. She woke up one morning at 10:00 a.m to the sound of a for sale sign being hammered into her front lawn and all she wanted was her brother to be there and do something about it but he couldn’t. To get her mind off things, she decided to go to the beach and try to relax. There she was, taking donuts after donuts in the ocean waves because the tide was too strong. She tried reaching for air but the sea kept pulling her in. She finally just gave up and let the waves win. Eyes closed, her body felt as if it was sinking into the bottom of the blue sea, somewhere so deep the water just got colder and colder and she didn’t do anything about it. It was just her and the peaceful ocean and it was time for her to just let go and give up. Her world had been crashing down little by little and she saw no reason to keep trying.But, there it was.. the sunlight shining through the cold water putting warmth on her skin giving her just a little bit of energy and hope. She overcame what she had seen as an obstacle and decided to take her days day by day hoping no one would notice her sorrow shadow from within. She carried on with a smile, pushed herself to wake up early, finished homework early, and even had a little extra time to work out to keep her going, all in which her brother taught her. There was still those few minutes of free time that always led to feeling empty and realizing how nothing ever felt the same. Three months finally passed and it was finally time to reunite with her brother. She saw him standing there with a shaved head, fresh uniform, and shiny clean shoes. She ran and ran and finally she was surrounded by his arms that were always there when she needed them. One thing that kept crossing her mind was that the newly Marine had not known that his family has moved. The whole way back home he had kept talking about how excited he was to go home but little did he know, they had sold their home. She will never forget all the anger he had brought to the table that day and she hated seeing him like that. Nothing was ever the same after that, her mom carried guilt, her brother was changed into a different man who was still her best friend but not exactly the same best friend, and as for her, she learned that although many things change including people, the happy moments and memories will never fade. She realized that all that she went through only gave her a better understanding on reality and that it’s okay if things change because nothing stays the same forever. Finally, she understood that home is where the heart is. “She”... was me.

My Invisible Hero--Aimee

Each person has their own views on the definition and characteristics of a hero, since a hero can come in multiple shapes and sizes. My hero was never publicly acknowledged but only by those who knew her story. My invisible hero is my grandmother and this is her outstanding story. When I was young it seemed as though it was essential in her house, which is where my parents and I lived, to always overflow with the warmth of people. See, this was her super power! She was able to weave kindness and love into a string and attach it to people’s hearts. She would pull on them when she missed them, only to see them appear the next day at her front door. It wasn’t until later in life that I understood how she managed this so eloquently. To understand I must first tell you about her childhood … well lack there of. At the young age of thirteen she lost her mother who left her to care for her three younger siblings. Her burden became even more challenging once her father died a few years later. She dropped out of middle school to care for her siblings, mind you this was a different country which is why this was possible. During the course of her life she soon met my grandfather, who acceptingly opened his door to her and her siblings. As time progressed they created a family of their own, which includes seven children and two extra kids from my grandfather’s side. When she grew older she bought a local market. For the duration of time that owned the store, she would at times give out free food to those she knew could not afford it themselves. In doing so she became a beacon of hope to so many in her impoverished country. This is how she began utilizing her powers! With every good deed she pinned that unwithering string to people’s hearts. Soon after, the United States granted my grandmother and her family asylum when my grandfather was targeted for his education during their country's Civil War. Here she worked with the elderly and soon bought the house that I previously mentioned growing up in. The thing I remember most about her was her talented ability to cook. She made food like no other, which always had its unique signature taste. Although, she began to suffer once again when her eldest daughter was diagnosed with breast cancer. My grandmother was forced to witness her daughter struggle though treatments knowing that there was nothing she could do to help relieve her pain. My Aunt survived but was once again diagnosed eight years later, but this time the cancer had reached its severity when it spread to her bones. The loss of her daughter induced my grandmother’s depression, which truly never left her. Despite all this pain she stilled managed to smile and lighten up our days with food and love. Today she is sadly no longer with us. She too fell victim to the same disease that took my aunt away from her. Till this day her absence has left an unfillable crater in the hearts of all of those who were given the privilege to be cherished by her love. Regardless of the bad experiences my grandmother endured, she always emerged with a smile and a sense of compassion. This is why she is my hero. Life dealt her a rough hand, yet she still made the best out of everyday and gave much more than she ever had. This powerful woman inspires me everyday to follow in her footsteps; to be kind to every soul I encounter and to smile even in hard times. Her daughters, including my mother, exude persistence and kindness which once shined through her. It always brings a smile to my face when I acknowledge the fact that her blood runs through my veins, which only augments the hope in me that one day I too can impact others the way she did. As for now I will aspire to one day become that one invisible hero to others just like my beloved grandmother is to me