Science Leadership Academy Learn · Create · Lead

Blog Feed

This needs to end...(niyala brownlee0

Niyala Brownlee

This needs to end…

(In her room sitting in a corner with low light down knees up.)

I’m scared….

I’m scared shitless. …


I want this to end.

No I need this to end.

What did I do to deserve this?

I mean, all I did…was help someone.

Was that so wrong?

They were being bullied,

And I thought it was wrong so…of course I intervened.

(Suddenly bland cold voice with no feelings but hate and blame)

But then It happened.

They turned on me.

First…the school,

…And then my friends.

I could handle the ignorance of the teachers and the sudden downfall in my ‘Popularity’. But of course,

When you leave something unattended or…let things go on without doing anything about it for a long time…

It gets worse.

Much worse.

(Sarcastic snobby tone)

It starts with the small pranks,

You know,

Like the old disappearing desk, or…the classical egg throwing and being locked in the bathroom stall with a bucket of water dumped over your head.

(adding in a lost wondering tone. Almost as if shes not speaking )

Then it turns big.

Thumb tacks everywhere you go. Burning trash in you book bag.

And if that doesn’t make someone paranoid enough,

(Questioning answer demanding tone)(Starts pacing)

Then what about when you to home to find everything in your room trashed,

but the doors were all locked. (smirking)

When you can’t even be safe in your own house… its scary isn’t it?

Yeah well you don’t even know the half of what it feels like. (cold wincing look)

It make me afraid,

Very afraid. (Sad face, start looking like she’s going to cry)

Makes me…Paranoid. (hands up to either side of the head wide eyes, wild crazy look)

I need help.

I need them to stop.

I need this to end.

What am I going to do.

When will this end?

(Just figured out tone)

Know, I know why that kid never said anything.

Know I know why no one dared to speak up.

But of course I had to open my mouth and say something.

But I don’t regret it.

I don’t regret what I did.

(Starts slowly speaking with fierce determination gradually getting louder. Emphases on the ‘I’)

What ‘I’ regret is how I never said anything against my own abuse.

What ‘I’ regret is how I didn’t stop it before it started.

What ‘I’ regret….

(Suddenly stops and starts speaking slowly but still determined)

…No…what I can’t stand!..

Is how I had the guts to stand up for someone else, But I coward in fear when it came to myself.

If I want this to end,

I have to do this my self.

I have to take the first step and take measures into my own hands because that’s where they were in the first place.

But when I strike back, I will not do I will not sink to there level with their dirty childish tricks.

I will be mature with my attack.

It wont be physical. But it will hurt like hell.

It will end my torture.

But at the same time, it will make them think twice about doing this to me, or anyone ever again.

Yeas that’s how I will fight back

That’s how I will win.

(Smirking determined face)





Gabby Santaniello

Speaking. It shouldn’t be this hard. It’s not like I can’t. So just go on… speak! But of course, I can’t, my throat closes up and I’m silenced again my by own fears. Write a poem, Mrs. Kemp said, write a poem about what you feel, it could be about anything, don’t hold back, don’t edit, just write. And so we do, we pour out our souls onto this 9 by 7 inch paper and then she tells us to speak. To get up in front of the class and recite the most vulnerable parts of us. So naturally, I go first. ‘Melody, read us your poem.’ And my heart stops, and my blood runs cold, I shake my head as my throat closes up, such a frequent feeling. I open my mouth but no sound comes out, and all Mrs. Kemp does is frown and look disappointed. I’m not surprised, this has been going on for a while.  I think people have begun to forget my name, ‘The quiet girl’ they call me. I haven’t always been silent, they have to know that, I’ve spoken to many of them before. They ask my why I don’t talk like they don’t know, like they weren’t the cause of it. I used to speak. But not anymore, once you’ve been shut up so many times, you loose the glamour of it all. Expressing my opinions means nothing if nobody wants to listen. Or maybe I just don’t want to talk to them. Why should I have to share my thoughts? Thoughts are private things. My thoughts, my opinions, are mine and mine alone. Some people’s thoughts are nasty and mean, some people only want to tare you down, but what could you possibly hold against me if I never speak? 


Cancer eats Brains. By:Taylor Thomas

Taylor Thomas

-7-year-old girl, Angie on a hospital bed

-7year-old Cary, her friend talking to her

 (Angie laying on hospital bed, Cary sitting on a chair doing homework)

Angie, what did you get for number 7 on that math worksheet?


Are you sure? I got 2 not 1. You have to minus 1 not 2, silly. Mrs. Valley yelled at Kenny today in Religion class. Kenny took Sean’s notebook and threw it on the floor, so Mrs. Valley grabbed him by his shirt, took him outside and started yelling at him. She said that he is always a disruption to her class and that he never listens. She told him that she was going to send a note home to his mom. He was so scared!

Excuse me, nurse, can you get her a glass of water? Thank you.

(Nurse comes back with water. Monologue is spoken to the nurse now)

Ang, are you sleeping? (pause) Good. She needs to sleep. She’ll be really tired if she doesn’t sleep, if she’s going back to school on Monday. I don’t know how she’ll do it if she can barely sit up, let alone walk around for a whole day.  I wish I could sleep. I’m so tired, but I have to wait for my mom to pick me up when she’s done work. I know that cancer isn’t easy for anyone, but I just wish her cancer was curable. My mom was talking to her mom and they were talking about her cancer eating. It was eating something.. Oh! It was her brain. The cancer was eating her brain. They said that her brain was gonna turn to mush in a couple of weeks. I hope it’s not to mushy when she goes to college, cause my sister says college is really hard. Angie will have to think really really hard when she goes if her brain is all mushy. (beep beep beep)

(panic) Nurse? What’s that beeping noise? Is Angie okay? What’s going on! Help her! Take the needle things out of her arm! They’re hurting her! Help! Angie! Wake up! Angie! (back to nurse) Help her! She’s not waking up! Get her mom! She’s in the waiting room! (calls Angie’s mom) Michelle, Michelle! Hurry something’s wrong with Angie! She’s not waking up! She has to be okay for school Monday. (pause, long beep) the beeping stopped. She’s okay right? There’s no more beeping. She’s okay… Angie? Why won’t she wake up? Did the cancer go away? Did the cancer make her brain mushy? Is that why she won’t wake up? (Starts to cry) I hate cancer. Tell her cancer to stop making her sleep. She has to go to school to see everybody. Angie, Angie! Get up! We’re gonna go to school. Come on! (Mom walks in) Mommy, Tell Angie’s cancer to stop making her sleep! (pause) Angie I have to leave, mommy says we’re going home. I’ll come back tomorrow to see you okay? I love you.

(end scene)


I'd rather have bad times with you...

Victoria Yarbrough

November 9, 2011



Today is the day. The judge will determine if I get to go back home to my mama. It’s been so long and I’ve tried so hard to be a good person. I’ve been on my best behavior. I brought my grades up, I apologized to all the punks I beat up, and I even cut off the ties with the drug suppliers. It all was hard, but I don’t want to go to another home where those people could care less about me. Where they forget to feed me, tell me I can’t go outside, and make me sleep on the floor. They're all liars, and pretend to give a damn in front of the authorities. I just want my mama to want me. I even promised God that I’d be better and I don’t get into that religion stuff. No more fighting, no more staying out late, and definitely no more selling drugs. I’m not a bad person though, all I’ve done, good or bad has been for my mama. I was tired of seeing her struggle with the rent, and living paycheck to paycheck. Especially when something could be done. I had to do something, right? My daddy ain’t shit; he left at snap of a finger. For my trying to help, they blamed my poor mama saying:

“Ms. Peters, your son is out of hand, and you have no control over him. We feel that it’d be best if he lived with a more organized family.”

 But the crazy thing about it is, she didn’t even cry or beg for me to stay. She just let them take me. I expected some real dramatic Life time scene where she’d be beating people’s ass’s for me. Instead, she pulled a poker face, signed some papers, and looked right through me. I felt the chill that lived in her eyes. She didn’t want me. I tried to help her and she didn’t want me. So why do I want to go back to her so bad? We don’t even get along and all we do is bicker. She wanted for me to have a better life though, but I am content with struggling if it means I can be with her. I’ll put up with the senseless fighting. I’ll find another way to help her. Hell, I’ll get a job even though I hate working. I’d rather have bad times with her than good times with someone else. Oh God, I hope the Judge makes the right decision. I can’t stand living with her, but I can’t stand living with those other people even more. I want to feel a mother’s tough love, not the synthesized version they’re trying to spoon feed me.They don't know my mama, and she's not a bad person. I was. But I've changed.


I Didn't Fall Babe, Love Fell On Me

Fire & Desire

He left me stuck, confused on what to say next. He left me hesitated on my word choice fearing if it would reveal my age. The hesitation kept me from ever wanting to find someone. Kept me from ever telling someone the way I felt entirely.

I jumped on him and stared deep into his eyes. He looked back as I stared while I talked; we made eye contact and smiled simultaneously. And then he asked in that deeply seductive voice, “Why you staring at my lips like you want to kiss me or something?” With that he puckered up. As he waited with his eyes intent on my face and desire intent by holding my there, I hesitated. Before he had the chance to repeat the question, I responded.

I crushed my lips to his with a passion that could ignite the entire room. His response gave me the sudden courage that I have been longing for for too long. At the moment all I could comprehend was the way my fingers were entangled in his soft hair and the way his palm caressed my check and lower back.

That’s all I ever wanted to know. I wanted to walk around with the knowledge of this emotion. The emotion of love. To have love given to me share and me that love with someone else.  With him. The month continued with cheers and squeals that came from the fire and desire he bought into my life. I knew that as long as I had some type of connection to him I would be okay in life.

While walking one day, I felt myself searching for something special. I wasn’t sure what it was or what form it came in. But as soon as I turned the corner I found it. He was there standing, talking. The way my heart reacted confirmed that I needed to make him mine. That I had to do it, tell him the whole story of where I stood. And then I completely saw him. He was standing and across from him was another girl.

He left me broken, with ongoing scrambles of our broken kiss. He left me hesitated, scrambled on which way to take. He left me scared, scared sick on whether to leave him. For I know that in his passing I will breathe a breath of desire. My heart will pound and my eyes will extend, to the point my blush will ignite to make amends. He will however eventually continue his path to the ones he cares for too. To the ones that I replaced, and will replace me. His multiple desires of fresh bait, his old acquaintances that destined mate. I didn’t fall babe, love fell on me.Jordan Hairston

1 Comment

The silent Grade

I could tell that he was nervous, real nervous. I could damn near see him shake I’d like to die of laughter. Lord knows he wanted to die of embarrassment! I could tell he wasn’t the one. No way, no how. “He aint got the will” I thought. I thought, he may be smart, but ”He aint the one” He wouldn’t even sit down for Jesus’ sake. It went fine though. Asked him the usual questions and he handled them like some (laughing) robot program! You should’ve seen him baby. You could tell he spent his waking days memorizing every word - it was a sad sight it was. Wasn’t no way I was gonna accept him. 

After I sent him on his way with a “Thank you” I waited for the next one. Fifty you hear me? Fifty! I was getting tired of ‘em. polished, refined and grey. Boring and grey. It’s a damn shame, baby. Those parents do that to them kids. Anyway, I sent him on his way and they sent in the next one. Oh baby this one. I could tell it was something different in this one. A different ingredient. Somethin that the others didn’t have, couldn’t have on their best day.  I swear my Newton’s Cradle stoped! Oh baby he had a special vibe going with ‘em it was a sight to see. Came in all swagger. (With pride) Somethin like I was in my younger days. Sat down even before I told em to, with a smile too. He did’nt take his hat off, but I didn’t mind. I give some curveball questions, to the ones I think got a little something special in ‘em. He took every one of ‘em, sacked them right out of the park with ease. I was convinced he was worthy.

 I stood up with a smile, first time I was really happy all day baby, and shook his hand. Baby what happened next you wown’t ever believe. Listen here, wait. When I got up right, I said “Thank you sir I will be glad to have you in our school” I was so proud I was. Then, listen, he said “Sir?”. He took off his hat and I swear my jaw dropped! Can you guess? He was a she!
Be the first to comment

Hate that class....


Yo get up time for school” aww shit its 7:30 already? Yea its Wednesday and it’s the my least favorite  class Spanish and oh boy how I hate Spanish. I tell my mom that I will not be going today but of course my mom said I think you will. Jumping out of bed brushing my teeth and getting dress and doing that other carp. Garbing my lunch to rush out the door before am late again my mom tells me that its cool out and I need a jacket and she can’t afford to get sick and other bull crap that I zone out to hear. “ You hear me” yea I said every word. I walking out the door and my bus am right on time pull out my transpass ready to get on. Doors up I look to my left and not a goddamn seat in sight. I walk to the back of the bus where I could squeeze my self in and stand. When we got to the next station this one fine look-in chick got on the bus just about the whole but was stunned. You could hear this boy in the back say “Danmmmmm I hit. Now is not the one to go crazy in public over a girl but she was pretty hot. So hot that I missed my stop and hade to walk down to school. Looking at the clock its 8:10 I am late.  I run up to the third floor and tip toe in the door. My so call friends David yells “ Shawn why you late? Like the ass he is I hade no choice but to come in. the first thing Mr. Green ask me is “Shawn why are you late to my class?” I had to think in my head for a sec tell him I got off the wrong stop daydreaming bout a girl or lie and say woke up late. Yea is going to go with woke up late. Late you say?? This is this been happen a lot for the past few days are you sure your not trying to get on time? . Yea is sure. I sit down and take my seat. Think at least I did my homework. Pull it out my book bag. He goes around checking the homework until he get to me now normally he doesn't look like he even check it but for some reason as soon as it gets to me he reads it like it some mid term paper. Shawn Mr. Green says “You have a few answers wrong you need to re do this Ill give you some credit for doing it.  All that was running threw my mind is this guy hates me. Time is going by and the class is so coming to an end and only on thing is on my mind run and get out as quick as possible. Class was dismissal and he say and “Shawn” right as I darted to the door we need to talk. The class leaves and he explains to me that I don’t respect him as a teacher. He talks on and on but I don’t care he hates me and I hate him so in the end I don’t really care. On my way to lunch the counselor sit next to my while I eat my lunch. Trying to ignore her to and finish my sandwich she says” Shawn I hear you’re not doing so well in Spanish and if you need any help am here for you. I just wanted to talk about some thing about your teacher Mr. green. Did you know back then Mr. green was a really bad student at Spanish. I stop eating for a moment and try to process what just happen, him bad at Spanish?  yea right. Its true she said it turns out he was bad I guess him and I aren’t son different but I still hate him. But the last thing she said really got me it turns out that he didn’t like his Spanish teacher. She walks away I just want to make sure you knew. A couple of my friends show up yo” Shawn you want skips school? Nah I just remembered I forgot something in Spanish you guys go with out me


Tuveson Monologue


I woke up that morning with a migraine and an ill temper. Fleeing from the cold world outside of my warm blankets, I hopped into the shower. My thoughts drifted as the hot water stimulated my comatose brain. I have to get out. I have to eat. I have to get on the fetid train. I have to go to my cubicle. I have to talk to my idiot boss. I have to converse with my idiotic coworkers.


Damn it.


I got out of the shower. Cold again, the world was very cold, I thought. I went over to the dresser in my bedroom threw my clothes on, and swallowed two or three aspirin. Breakfast that day seemed to take much longer than it should have. The smell of the food was nauseating, and my coffee tasted like sewage. In retrospective, I probably should have eaten at that food cart outside of work, the one run by the Indian guy with the scar.


I stepped out the front door of my apartment building and waited for the bus in the cold. I climbed on to the bus, sat down, and closed my eyes. I think of the places I would rather be.


I am in a desert, the wind blowing sand into my face. I am flying, high over the Atlantic Ocean. I am in space, as big as the universe, with as much mass as a thousand black holes. All of these thoughts ran through my brain. If only I was, but no, I was still on the bus on my way to my job.


Twenty-second and Market, time to get off the bus. I hesitated before my foot hit the pavement. As soon as my foot hits the pavement I am committing to going to this job, I thought (sigh). I could have stayed on the bus, but I got off. My parents raised me to be this spineless. They were both stupid, I thought, and because of it I’m spineless, like a Jellyfish… Like a Jellyfish... The phrase seemed to repeat for some reason. My mind began to drift again, visions of jellyfish swimming, bobbing around my head. The bus drives away, and I start walking to work, Jellyfish following me.


I walked up to my building and take a deep inhale, as if I’m about to dive into a lake. I waved nonchalantly to the security guard, and forced a smile. Forcing a smile was a terrible idea. Smiling when I don’t want to makes me feel terrible, and honestly, forced smiles make me want to cry. I kept myself together until I got on the elevator. Fortunately, I was in pretty early, and now one saw what transpired.


By the time I reached my floor, I ran to the bathroom and started weeping uncontrollably. I tried to control myself but it was too late. I sat and stared at the wall, thinking about killing myself. I was just another gear in a big machine. Just a useless piece of society that could be replaced if it broke, that’s all I was. I ran out of my building and hailed a cab. Later that day I called my boss and told him I was sick. Then I drank till I was sick.


Anyway, that’s all that happened. Thanks for listening doctor, I’ll See you again next week at the same time? Okay, good.

Be the first to comment


(Rock back and forth)

 “Yo Spit! Where you at?” Blast in my ears

(Huffs) The desert is dry and deserted like the inside of my head, my soul, and my body. “Yo Spit! Where you at?”(Echoes in my head still) I know my damn name. I’m a young girl, with chipped nail polish, ashy feet, curled up toes with sand particle in between them (Looks at her feet). I have burnt color skin, thick, tangled hair, with scars that can run on for miles (rubs her face, and body). It’s dry out here, nothing to do. It seems so free, free enough to be me. I’m trapped. Abandoned with my own self. (Scratches head) So die, to die, no water, why not die? A young savage, a young failure, a young loser (deep breathe). Still the words “Yo Spit! Where you at?” lingers in my head.

I’m by myself so why not die? No mother! No more hitting, no more scars. No more red leakage from my busted face, and body.  Life moves in slow motion as I try to get away from my mother tight grip, and cigarette smoke. I’m trapped. No daddy! No more dope dealing, selling my body, and making money the fast way. My daddy taught me how to do it all, I make a buck fifty an hour. No more pain? Pain, oh I know pain.

I’m trapped. No more friends! No stealing, robbing, killing, hurting people. My crew and I have people shaking. What we want, we get. But still, I’m trapped. No uncle! He loves me, he tells me everyday. He lays me down, and does things I don’t like, but he loves me. I’m trapped. (Counts on fingers) I got me, myself, and I got my desert. I’m trapped. I want to stay trapped. I have to come out sometime. Because these damn words won’t leave my head “Yo Spit! Where you at?”

Back to my mom, dad, friends, and uncle. Back to scars, dope, prostitution, and stealing. I portray a life I don’t want. My desert will be here, my closet, under my bed, my roof, and inside a box. My desert is everywhere life isn’t hurting me. Oh! My desert will be here. Ready for the next girl, that can’t stand to look at her self in the mirror. Prepared for the next boy, that gets abused, and have black eyes, and deep bloody cut marks. Setup for the next teen, which lives a life of hurt. I am a young girl that hates her life. I’m trapped in reality, with everyone and everything I hate. (Balls fist up) So die, to die, why not die? (Tear)

Be the first to comment

branden halls english

The orange paper stapled on my door shocked me. I looked at the orange paper and read it five times. Then to make sure I read it five more times. We were getting evicted and there was nothing to do about it. I live with my mom and my brother and sister. We have very little money since I only work part time because of school and my mom is too lazy to work. She says she’ll look for a job soon or the job market is hard but I know the reason. And she knows the reason. My brother and sister know the reason. And my neighbors know the reason. She’s given up. She doesn’t care if she lives or dies she doesn’t care if her kids starve to death. My mom has lost her mind.


It’s been like this since my dad died but that doesn’t matter because that was then and this is now. We are being evicted and there is nothing I can do. “Felix, Felix!” my sister yells. She doesn’t need to know any of this so I rip the paper off quickly and stuff it in my pocket. I need to keep what’s going on with the house to myself. She is only eight so I don’t want her to be sucked into the world that I’m in. The world where all you think about is where the next meal is going to come form or if you’ll have to give your meal to your siblings. I wish my mom had done that for me. No I was basically born into this world that few people know about. I have to go to work for four hours then I bring home dinner, four double cheeseburgers and four fries. My mom doesn’t eat she just stares at the ceiling. How can she be so docile? Doesn’t she know we are in trouble? She must’ve seen the notice so why isn’t she freaking out like I am? Why isn’t she showing any emotion? I start getting angry so I walk out the door with my fries. The salt somehow soothes me and keeps me from making any crazy decisions. I also think of my dad when I eat fries since it was him that got me hooked. It reminds me of a time where I didn’t have to worry about food and my dad took care of every thing. I remember a time when my parents and I were all happy, but that was then and this is now. I walk back in a take a big breath (breath). My brother is in his room but my sister is in the living room playing with her dolls. I guess she is making a lot of noise because my mom finally does something she yells at my sister.


My anger reappears and I’m out of fries. Nothing is controlling my anger and her yelling was getting louder. How dare she yell at my sister! She hasn’t token of my sister in years now she thinks she can yell at my sister! My fist, are clenching and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I step in between of my mom and sister. I tell my sister to go into her room but she is still in shock from the yelling. My mom is yelling at me now asking who am I to tell my sister what to do. My mom is now targeting me but this is more physical. She’s push and slapping and calling me all kinds of names until I snap. I push her on the couch and tell her to stop; I tell her that I’m the one taking care of this family. My eyes are watering. I

I’m shouting now. “Did you even notice we are being evicted!!! We could be out on the streets in days and it’s your fault!!! Do you even care about us?” but I know the answer. I know what she is going to say but instead of words she hits me. Maybe it was all the stress from the eviction or maybe it was the built up anger but before I knew it I hit her back.

She’s shocked and I’m shocked but I’m surprised by what she does next.  She leaves, she gets up and leaves. As the door slams I turn around to see my brother and sister looking at me in fear. Why? I’m the one who has been taking care of them me not my mother. Now that she has left nothing has changed I am still the one who has to get up at 5:30 am so and iron my siblings clothes. I am still the one who has to go to work for hours after school. I am still the one paying the bills. I look at their faces and I know that they have just been brought into the world that I’ve lived in for years. The world of fear.


What My Father Taught Me

“5… 4… 3… 2…1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!” It was a cold New Years Eve on a dark night in New York with a family having a nice family dinner. As they celebrate for the New Year with everyone happy and in joy, a father at the party is facing this thought that he wants to have a conversation to his son about everyday life and how he should take it. His son is 16 years old and is growing up in life. He is a straight a student in school and is looking into going to college and having a degree and profession in something. His father doesn’t want him to mess up and make the same mistakes that he did when he was little and messed up his life

So he took his son Danny to a private place so they can speak to each other about life and problems in it. They went to the back of the house in the backyard on a cold night. They both sat down at a rusty table were in the yard with 2 seats that looked like they went through hard times of weather. The dad started off soft asking him about school and how his day was. Then he got to the real topic of what he wanted to talk about. “Danny I want you to know whatever you do with your career you will have my 100% of support.” Danny had this gloom in his face, as he was so excited to see his dad care about what he did and have support from him. “Thanks dad for caring about me and being so supportive of everything I do I promise I won’t let you down” “Danny I am not worried about you cause I know you will do right I just you to have good friends instead of these hood rats”. The son took a quick pause in confusion on what his dad was trying to tell him. “Dad … What do you mean hood rats?” The dad trying to find a specific way to describe what he meant by hood rats. “Hood rats son, kids that don’t give a damn about their education and want to damage others lives as they did to theirs.

The son took this in a good way but as they say friends can make you change your opinion and forget bout what everyone else said. The New Years break was over and time to go back to school. Danny kept thinking about what his dad had told him and knew that he was capable of doing good and making his dad happy and proud of him. After school hit and Danny’s friends invited him to a little party they were having in a beach side home where no parents were and they had freedom. Surely as a teenager he decided it sounded cool to him so he accepted the invitation and went along with his friends. When they got there the whole school was present, when it came to the cheerleaders, to the football players, to the basketball team they were all there. They decided to bring in drinks and liquor so they can enjoy the fine Friday night where they can have fun and not worry about school the next day. They celebrated and drunk till there was no tomorrow. But then a friend came out of a room with a pack; Danny didn’t have a clear view of what was in it. When his friend came over to the table he put it on the table and it was a bag of weed that they were ready to roll up and smoke. Danny looked very surprised. His eyes opened so wide like they have never did before, he got so nervous and scared he decided to go to the bathroom just to get his mind together. As he looked at himself in the mirror he had visions of the talk him and his dad had on New Years about making the right decisions and choosing the right friends.

As he was collecting his mind and thinking he heard a loud bang. “Danny come on out your missing out on the party, we got some good stuff out here for you”. As he stood in the bathroom he got more nervous. “Alright guys Im on my way out just a second”. As he washed his face off he felt the sense of fear run down his face and into the sink. He unlocks the door slowly and opens the door walks towards his friends to check up on them. “Danny Boy come here, take one it would make you feel so good afterwards trust us we been here done this”. Danny decides to pick one up and look at it, as he moves it slower towards his mouth he gets this feeling that he isn’t doing the right thing. He hurries and throws it on the table and tells his friends he is leaving and will see them Monday.

When he gets home he sits on his bed thinking and wondering “Why did I even go to the party, I should of listened to dad”. As he is thinking this dad walks into the room and asks him what went on. Danny tells his dad the whole story and the truth. The father is very proud of his son for doing the right thing. “Son I am very proud of you and hope you stay like this cause its only better for you and your education”. Danny felt good after this talk and promised he won’t do any type of drugs again. 
Be the first to comment

J Tartaglia Monologue

Monologue Draft

Well doc it all started that one-day when I was patrolling the corner of 12th and Rooney I was just getting off my shift. I sat down in one of the out side seats and had my self a cup of coffee. I remember because I ordered a medium and, I got a small, so I made her send it back. If I only knew what was going to happen next I would have kept the coffee, and would have not have gotten mad over it. So she was on her way sending the coffee back.             I lit a cigarette, and start to smoke it.

            All of the sudden this man with a ski mask come running out of a bank with a bag of money, runs into the coffee shop and takes everyone hostage. I sit there in a shock, my cigarette drops from my mouth into the coffee. The only thing I can think of is what is this, man, this psycho going to do to these people in this coffee shop. So then next thing I do is stand up and call for back up. But before I could call backup waitress make a run for it but as she got to the door the man shoots the waitress in the back of the head. She fall face first out the front door. She just was lying there with a hole in her head, and covered with her own blood. This is the first time in my career that I have seen any one get shot like that. I was sick to my stomach and was about to puke but I held my head up, and took it as it was. I yelled at him saying “come out with your hands up this is your last chance for you to give up or it will be by force.” Then all of the sudden the back up comes. I turn around to explain the situation, and I got shot in the arm from the guy, blind shooting out the front door. A tear comes running down my face. I start to think about my wife and kids, and all of my accomplishments vanishing into thin air. I start to black out and I feel numb, is this death? I was thinking to myself, or am I still alive. The next thing I noticed is a bright light and I think I’m in heaven because I see my kids and wife, but I focus more, and I’m is a hospital, I turn on the news, and the anchors said that they caught the bank robber, and that was my moment of peace and the feeling of accomplishment.

Be the first to comment



It’s cool! I don’t trip!

Dest, how could you do this to me? How could you let this happen? I thought you cared about me! You said we were like twins, I guess you really meant it. I should have been Sadie, but No! I was lil’ Dest. When we were young, we did everything together. You told me so many things; you opened up so many doors for my one set mind. You were a sweet little girl. Always smiling, laughing, acting like a kid. I admired everything you did.

Then, you changed. Dressing, talking, and acting differently. You started to tell me that the only way I’m going to get with a cute boy is if I dress like this: tight clothing, low cut shirts, shirts with the belly hanging out, hip jeans, and make-up. All this and we were only in the 5th grade remember running around in Meade schoolyard. You were right though it worked, even though my boys weren’t real cute but they were okay. Then we got even older, 7th graders, we stop talking. I wasn’t good enough for you, so I changed started mocking you and all the other girls. By 8th grade we were cool again, twins. We went everywhere together, did everything together! Started sneaking out of school to go see boys that I didn’t even know! Letting them feel on me even though I didn’t want them to. You did so I did!

That’s when I met him! That boy who sees me on the train but don’t even say hi. After all I gave him, all he gives back is nasty gleams. It doesn’t bother me that much any more. It still hurts me seeing him with girls, he never took the time out to be with me. It wasn’t even two weeks after it happened and he was already seeing somebody else. But it’s cool. I don’t trip.

I’m in high school now. So many people around me are saints. So many people never had that experience. They’ll judge me if I told them. Some people know, but I know they judged me. Just by the look on their faces when I told them. But it’s cool. I don’t trip. LIES! It’s starting to hit me, HARD! (Punches fist) I wish I could go back in time and do it all over. So many things that could of happened because I was a rookie. It didn’t even occur to me then, I had faith in him because you said “He knows what he’s doing.”

I blame you for everything. It’s your fault I’m in this state now. That day plays over and over every time I go there, Allegheny. Every time I see their faces. I’m embarrassed. I was embarrassed then and I’m embarrassed now. I remember sitting on that step 2:00 in the afternoon, I didn’t know who step it was. I didn’t even know the area; I didn’t even know that person. Yet I was waiting for him to come and get me. I was alone, I should have been in school, but I was there. You weren’t a phone call away either, you were gone bye-bye. Sun beaming down on my back, then his voice “Yo”. My smile, his smile, his hand, and his muscles pulling me off that step. The walk across the street, front door squeak open, squeak closed, his dad cooking, stairs squeaking, door closing, plop on the mattress, music videos, and then the black screen.

The moment his hand touch my thigh, my heart started to pound. I could feel my face get heated, it was on fire. My body started to shake, and then his voice “ Don’t be nervous”. He got closer, dead in my face. He reached his hand out and touched my face. At first it was a kiss, next came the tongue. He laid me down and started to kiss my body. I suddenly blacked out from the panic. When I opened my eyes I was naked. How shameful I felt, I wanted to cry. He pulled down his pants, boxers and all. His body touched mines. I wanted it to stop so badly but I didn’t, I let it happen because I wanted to please you. I wanted to be grown up for you, because you told me too.

All the things I did for you! But what did you give me in return? Nothing. Nothing at all! Oops I lied, you gave me shame, and you gave me the reason to walk with my head down. You’re the reason why I’m so easy. You’re the reason why, why, why … I… No, no it can’t be! No, I can’t stop it. I can’t take control of my life. I been brain washed by her. Oh my, I don’t want to believe this but I must. I can say no! It’s my fault because I refuse to say NO! I refused!

Be the first to comment


Shannon Powers

Hazy’s Monologue



 “ Why? Why can’t you leave me be in peace? I hear your voice; you’re in the water, the trees, and the very air around me! Your voice calls out to my soul the part of me that still belongs to you. “Hazy Hazy” you call Stop! Stop I say! Please let me go! Let go of the world that so brutally let go of you. Eclipse I felt you die, I felt your blood soak through my very bones. I held you as the light, that warm silver light that lit my eternal flame, I watched helplessly as it went out never to light again. Is that why you cannot leave me? Are you too worried about my well being? I’m fine I tell you I no longer blame myself for your death. Eclipse I love you but I’ve found someone who can put warmth in words and touch. You no longer have the warmth of the living. The warmth I crave at night when the chill mountain air seeps through my covers. I’ve found a voice that makes my heart race with happiness. Shouldn’t you be happy for me? No matter what changes I will never forget you. I’m begging you from the very depths of my being to move on. Move on and let me be, when you go I will make sure you live on. The sky we once flew in on bright sunny days still holds the memory of our laughter as you turn left and never right. Eclipse its time to take that first right turn. I will move on with you I will protect and revive your memory. I have strength enough for the both of us now. So go ahead move on in your new life, I’ll be fine. I’ve found love again my fire reignited and I’m ready to move on. Though I’m still afraid to move on with out you, when you leave I will be sure to feel the rightness of moving on. Are you worried for your brother? Roziel’s ok now, he’s found his way in life and he two is slowly moving on. Are you ready? Go on then and move on in to the after life. Fly through the bright amber skies and await your family. We will met again one day and when we do you’ll find a happy life with us once more. Move on and let our once intertwined spirits float freely. Good-bye and thank you for the life you helped me keep. I will love and cherish your memory for the rest of my days.” 

1 Comment

The Complaint By:Tyler creighton

 The complaint

"Unit 3 is over and no more benchmarks”

 I should be happy right? Well I’m not.

 I am not usually happy when I'm in this class or sleep, one or the other.

"Do we have to do this, is there any other options"?

"No none miss Parker no other options just your monologues"

I wonder why do we have do this, how will the benefit me if I know how to write a paper about people's conversations.

"You guys have until Wednesday to have almost a completed draft in class"

I’m pretty upset at this point, I don't understand the project and on top of that I don't want to do it, I'm such a busy person I have dance, friends, family, I have a life.

This project was assigned Friday and is due Wednesday, should be enough time right.

Well seems to me like this was over night, I can with all the other homework's also I feel like I have no time to do this.


Friday night, the night the assignment was given instead on planning what I should do I stayed on the computer on a chat until 3 in the morning.

"Maybe I can get an extension I will tell her something is wrong"

Saturday 10:30AM "Hi Ms. Powalter this is Sophia Parker and I was wondering could I have a mini extension I don't understand this project, I have no idea about it and I don't have ugh time to do it this weekend".

12:00PM "Hi Miss Parker sorry but no one will have an extension on this project think very hard an idea should come to you then make it your own, this doesn't have to be the best ever, that's why it's called a draft.

"Well that didn't work maybe I will work on it after I come home from dance class since I don't have anything else to do.

The same day some one asked me to with them to the movies a little later on that day so I decided to work on this all Sunday since no one does anything Sunday too.

I ended up trying another excuse.

12:30 PM Sunday "Hi Ms. Powalter me again, how is your weekend going, about our monologues, may I have a bit extra time or at least the day in school to work on this, something like a work period.

2:30PM Sunday " Hi miss Parker as it was said to you earlier there is no excuses for missing work, you can try and turn in something, because something is always better than nothing.

(Long blank stare)


"Well since I am being forced to write this maybe I should begin to write it so I can just get it over with. Those were the exact words that left my mouth before the idea of working stepped out behind them.

Ok seems like excuses aren’t working so maybe a complaint will.


Monday 6:30 PM “Hey Ms. Powalter I don’t mean to bother you but, I feel like you don’t care about my situations and the reasons why I cant do this paper or at least why I cant have it in on time, I feel like this project is being forced on the students and very rushed due to the fact that we our missing two days of school next week. Also I believe that I have a small amount of carp-tunnel in the hand that I right with and I feel like you don’t care about my inner and my outer feeling’s”.

8:30PM “Hi Sophia I am sorry about your wrist maybe you should go to the doctors about that but this assignment is not written it is typed and you don’t have carp-tunnel if you are able to type this many excuses and a complaint’s about this project”.


Time begins to move faster, I have one night to at least have a storyboard and some of this monologue typed, there’s no more time for excuses so seems to me all there is left to do is type … After I get home from dance.

I feel like nothing worked, no excuses, no complaints, nothing worked. And I still don’t have an idea.


“Mom do you know something that I could write about and make a monologue of?”

“Sorry Sophia the only type of monologue I can help you with is the play”.

“How about you dad do you know anything?”

His response was “Umm remind me what’s a monologue again?”

Maybe I can get some help with this project in class tomorrow; class will be pretty helpful, reading aloud some of the winning monologues and gathering thoughts should help also…

Those were my last thought’s about this mini assignment until the night before it is due and I’m up until next morning typing nothing.

I can predict how Thursday is going to go.


“Hi class lets take your seats and take out you completed and printed monologue.”

“Morning Ms. Powalter, funny I found an idea to type about after all this pain with this assignment”

“I guess I will right about how “fun” and “easy” this journey was to completing this paper and how I feel about this assignment”.









Be the first to comment


Michael Hall                                                Heist                                                 

“ Arnold Hart, Parole denied”. The words echoed and sunk into my mind like a submarine but as I looked up I remembered his face. He didn’t look mad or happy but just a look of justice. “Why did I do that!” those words were more like an explosion that just blew my mind apart but I had only myself to blame. I looked at the mirror and saw that the face that committed the crime had changed. It had grown a full beard and had few more wrinkles than I remembered. It had grown up and realized what it did was stupid and wrong. If only I could rewrite time and redo my life then everything would be ok and I would have a second chance. “Why?” that word was like a cool breeze over my mind but all I could do is sit and remember. Remember what drove me to that event. The yells of other inmates  


It was my fourth job interview and I was sure I had it. When the call came that I didn’t get the job, I was shocked and angry. “Why does this only happen to me” I thought, not fully thinking. I was at my wits end. Bills were stacking up and debt became my worst enemy. I got a letter in the mail with the big and red word “Foreclosure”. I was alone and the thoughts of me being homeless were becoming a reality. Then I saw it, the gun I had bought to protect myself at night. It had a strange color that day like for some reason it was shinning and telling me the answer to my problem.


I then thought that robbing a stupid connivance store would be a good start, but they don’t have enough money so without a thought I said “A bank”. “What was I thinking?” Now looking back it was by far the stupidest thing ever. Then I saw the bank. It looked simple enough, but as life shows nothing really is. I had the gun, ran into the bank with the feeling of excitement and regrets. I don’t know where the feelings came from but they were present. Then with the gun pointing I told the man “GIVE ME THE MONEY” but I said it with manners.


I didn’t see the alarm button behind the counter, or the nervous banker that pressed it. Before I even knew what had happened the police were already there with a gun up yelling freeze. I didn’t know what to do or how to even act but the trigger had been pulled and a policeman was on the ground bleeding. 


Hi Grandpa.

“Did you start your letter for English class BJ”

No mom but I’ll go start it now.


Hey grandpa,


 I’m your grandson Billy, I just turned 11 a few days ago. Mom says we share the same birthday, which is why I’m named after you, Bill Samuel Johnson. Mom use to tell me about how you wanted the perfect grandson, someone to take to baseball games, to play catch with in the yard, and to teach how to fish in the river. I’m in the 5th grade now I have good grade, and I love to play sports. Mom says that I’m like you when you were in school. She also tells me about how you fought in the war and won lots of medals because you were very brave. When I grow up, I want to be a soldier just like you. Mom tells me a lot about you and how you used to be there for her.

We live in the house that you raised mom in and she says that you never ever wanted a black person to set foot in this house. Why don’t you want black people in our house? My dad lives here with us in the house, I wonder what would happened if you found out he was living with us? I really love my dad, he doesn’t act different than any other white person. I have always asked mom that but she never wanted to respond to me. She always said “Baby I really do not know.” Or “Billy can you stop asking questions!” So, after a billion times of getting those answers, I just stopped asking her.

One night, I heard mom talking to grandma. She was saying how you were disappointed in her because of the type of men mom liked. She talked about how you wanted only one race in the family’s bloodline, full breed Italian. She also says that you really hated black people. My dad is black do you hate him? Because mom talks about how he tried so hard to make you like him. My dad is a great person and loves me and mom so much, he takes care of us and always will, he says.

Sincerely, Billy

P. S. Even though I haven’t met you I still love you grandpa and always will, I just hope you love me too.





Be the first to comment

Til Death Do Us Part

          Well I guess this it. It’s a wrap. I’m doing the right thing, Ma says it’s about time that I settle down. Who am I playin’? Ma’s not marrying this chick, I am. *Splashes face with water* C’mon Ty, whatchu sayin’? She is beautiful, she got brains...she is faithful. I’m blessed. *Looks at reflection* My ex’s I haven’t talked to in years, are blowin’ up my phone. Talkin’ bout some, ‘I’ll be damned if I see anotha chick on yo arm’. Well alright B. The boys say I’m crazy. They bet bread that I won’t last 6 months before going back to my sideline. Is that it? Am I foldin’? *Begins tying his tie* Na, its just that I been barely gettin’ by on my own, my check book is getting tight. *Ties the tie too tight* But I know if anything, she’ll help. That’s what all this marriage hype is ‘bout, right? *Loosens tie* All I know is, I promise I won’t be like my pops. Like my boy Cole said I refuse to bring my boy or my girl in this world when I ain’t got shit to give ‘em, and I’m not with these other boys who be knocking girls up and skate out. It’s a cold world.

          Her girls have been pipin’ this day up since I got one knee and became more of a man. I apologized to her already for the small wedding, we just don’t got have the money we need. But I followed up with a promise, that after things chill out we can renew our vows the right way. There ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of, unlike some of my bros I’m alive. That’s somethin’ to celebrate. I clean up nice, I mean look at me. *Looks in the mirror* I would kill for them to see me here. To see her. *Tighter* Her pop doesn’t seem to like me too much. I’m not surprised though. A single black man, with a high school diploma, making minimum wage is always a target. On the flipside, her ma’s been callin’ me son since we met. I guess it’s mother’s instinct *Loosens*. 2 minutes until I’m out there, with her. And that’s all that matters, me and her. We doing this together. When I asked her to marry me, she said yes. She made it clear, she trusts me, my ride or die. I’ve let down too many people in my life, and she won’t be one of them. *Straightens suit out* I’m ready for this. 


Seeing your face every morning kills me. It makes me think of what we had, what I miss, how angry I am at you, how much I want you back so we can try and make this work, how much I love you… I walk by, trying to avoid looking your way in the hopes that you would even try to notice me. Maybe you do, maybe you don’t either way Rafael, you broke my heart.

  It was about a week ago that you broke up with me. I feel like you left me because I didn’t want to have sex with you. I wasn’t easy enough for you. When the topic of sex came up, I told you I wasn’t ready, only because we were only together for 3 months. Then the day after I told you that, we all of a sudden weren’t working out? You claim that you were going through so much, and that you couldn’t handle those situations and me. So am I considered one of your problems? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Even if I am not one of them, you knew that I was here for you. I’m going through that same shit you are but tried to make this work, I knew that you were here for me; well I thought you were. Its just crazy how we were close ass friends for years before we decided to be together and you promised we were going to stay close no matter what..but its obvious that you broke that promise..

  To me, that whole excuse of you “going through to much” is a bunch of bullshit that I will not believe. Do you realize how this makes me feel? Did you stop and think about how this would affect me? No, you didn’t. You thought about yourself like always. And that hurts. I was always here for you, you were all I wanted and needed. I felt like I could be myself around you. You were the only guy that ever made me feel like I mattered or had a purpose in the world, or maybe you just did that in the hopes of getting in my pants…

 My feelings are all over the place. One-minute I’m full of rage, the next I’m trying to smile and feel good about everything to get you off my mind. I’m confused. I’m confused because I am still unaware as to why this situation would even occur. Just a day ago we were all smiles and laughing, holding hands…. and now I cant stand you, I miss you, I’m in regret, part of me wants you back. I don’t know what to do with myself.

  I showed you how much I cared, you knew I had nothing but love for you; you knew that and took advantage of it. I never reveal how I feel. Not to anyone. I told you things that I have never even told my closest friends. So many deep feelings and thoughts because I thought you would listen and help me. But would you like to know what hurts the most Rafael? The fact that I thought you cared… But of course it turns out that I thought wrong.

 I don’t even blame you Rafael. I blame myself for caring too much and letting you in my life. I should have known from the start that you we’re just like the rest. I don’t know what made me even think you were different. I hope that one day, someone does this same shit to you. I want you to feel the pain that I feel. Until then, leave me alone and live your life. I was living my life before you and I’ll keep on living after you. Maybe this is me just trying to get over you, or maybe I just don't care anymore...

Either way Rafael, I will always love you...hopefully we can try this again...until then, take care.


I Just Want To Be Free !

Beautiful surroundings… beat white picket fences from my house trapping me inside my thoughts.

“I just want to be free!”

I look around my surroundings, waterfalls, sunsets, and green grass sprouting out the ground not afraid to show its identity, unlike me, I am hiding behind my own shadows.

Birds chirping, singing me that beautiful lullaby I was never told as a child

I am tired.

Not tired as in yearning for sleep but tired of my sorrows.

I guess blue, black, and red are my favorite colors because I wear them all the time.

It started when I was 7!

To young to know right from wrong but I guess I was old enough to know pain and misery, that’s all they’ve given me was pain and misery.

“I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry!” All my life these 6 powerful words have been spit upon.  Sorrow and hurt have been stomped on, just…like… my… face.

 My parents never game a damn about me.

I was simply just a check that came through the mail.

I just want to be loved!

I stand tall like the trees, but broken down like these rocks

Fuck the rain I created these waterfalls from my tears at night.

I am an abused child.

Why am I an abused child?

No one ever told me they loved me before I laid my head down at night.

What, am I not good enough for you?

Am I only worth your anger and animosity? Bittersweet kisses planted on my cheek from your fist. I guess you love to mark your territory.

“Shit I’m doing it again!”

Constantly feeling like I’m doing something wrong but I’m the victim!

            “I just want to be free”

When I run they always find me, when I hide the lights are always being shun upon me.

                                                So here I am

Standing upon this waterfall it’s my time to go.

            No one can find me now. They would never look for someone so ugly in a place that’s so beautiful.

            I’ve only lived 17 years and though so short it feels too long I jus want be free…. and suicide seems to be the only key to that door so here I go.

 My foot loosing its grasp from the ground, eyes closed shut like the doors of freedom I am trying to open,

 I have fallen.

My last breath hits the water, my hourglass has finally ran out.

I choke, cough out my last breath, my last air bubble. It flows deeper and deeper into the water as it relays my last message to the world, “I Am Free!”




Laura De Jesus



Why did my mother marry an alcoholic?


            Its 11 o’clock on a Saturday night, where I would be usually out and about with my life I’m sitting here in my living room looking at my mother cry I wonder why. (Looking at her), He does not love her, or us. She continues to stay, while he continues to beat and threaten her. Love is a two way street and she is the only one trying. Every night he comes home, drunk. Now that he does not work, he has no reason to stay sober.

She says she stays for us, but I know she knows we don't need him. He does nothing for us, buying us the things we want; he thinks that’s good enough. In reality, all I have is hatred. I get tired of seeing my mother suffer. I don't want to come home another day after school, rather be out all day and night.

Seeing him tumble and slur out words is now old. Being born and raised with an alcoholic father is not the “dream”. Crying herself to sleep every night is stressful. Not even able to complete what I need to thinking is she okay in the back of my mind, I’m tired of seeing her hurt. The bruises my mother has are invisible, but I, her daughter can see.

Being at school, and out with my friends is what keeps me sane. Out of my house, I feel safe and feel free. Once entering the place I call home it’s a nightmare, I can’t take it anymore. Feeling threatened and unknowing of what can happen next is not normal for a person of my age. Fifteen year olds are supposed to be enjoying life. So why am I sitting here in my living room crying my eyes out?

Tears rolling down my face bring back memories. (Looking at my mother) I want to love and spend time with him; I mean he is my father. But the fear has taken over me completely. I’m scared to have the knife put up to my wrist again, scared to say what I feel because of the fist coming to my face. I should not be afraid of my own father; he is one of the reasons that I am here.

I’m sitting her looking dumb, when I want is for my prayers to come true. When my grandmother was alive, everything was great, always happy and smiling. After that, is when the addiction to alcohol came along. Depression is difficult thing to over come, but we were here, why did he not come to us? Feel as though we are not good enough.

Grand mom, please, (Looking at the photograph of grandmother), I’m begging you to please help my dad. I may not feel the same way I did before, maybe I don’t feel anything towards him, but I know that he is needed and wanted by my mother. Help my father be able to get through his issues and become the same person he was before he lost job. I am begging you, make it go back to the way it was when we were all happy.


Be the first to comment

Pork. By Maleena Mel

Honey, come down and eat dinner, we got pork chops, rice, and carrots.

Ewe.  Swine. Ugh that nasty. I hate it I hate it I HATE IT…

The nasty thick layer of meat, from the nasty little fat dirty pig. Where they lay around in the mud. It’s like lying around in their own poop. No mom for the last time I hate pork,

They eat trash,

They are dirty,

They eat poop,

 And they even eat their own throw up!

So can you please make me something better to eat?

What Leena? … Baby since when did you become Muslim?

Moms I never became nothing. I just don’t eat pork.

Like people just don’t know what they feed them pigs and then we eat them. It’s like eating our poop, nasty trash, and mud. Not only that, pigs has worms that live in their body. From all them disgusting thing they be eating. Most people don’t believe it but I do. People just are so into them pork chop, bacon, hot dog, Jell-O, that they don’t even care about what the pork has in them. But they will believe that later on in their life they would have worms living in their bodies.

Sweetie that is all non-since, some people just feel bad for the little pigs, that’s why they said that.

Mom you just don’t understand. Don’t you just ever think about what you eat?

Leena look listen I’m not gone sit here and listen to what your gone say because you is just crazy, and yes sweetie I know what pigs eat, and that’s why they are just so fat and good.

Ewwwww mom… Omg you’re so nasty.

Aha its really good you want to try it. Well I guess you would be eating just plain old rice for dinner, since you don’t want to eat this pork chop I made.

Omg mom, your just the best mom in the world. Dang pork eater. From this day on I will not eat your meat anymore. I will make my own food to eat.

Since thanksgiving is coming up sometimes this month, you better find, or make your own food to eat. Since you said you would not eat any food I make.

Whoosh, Hello mom I was just kidding you see. I was just trying to tell you that pork isn’t good for you that’s all. All i'm saying is that on thanksgiving you should just make everything out of chicken and turkey.

Leena your just something else do you know that.

Yes mom I understand, that’s why i'm your daughter and you’re gone have to deal with it.

That’s why you need to go upstairs and close your room door, before I beat the crap out of you. And I would like to enjoy my dinner without you talking about pork and how delisious it is. Than she starts to laugh.

Okay, mom I’m sorry … enjoy your Swine love you.

Now, now head on up stairs before I kill you.

Than I ran upstairs and shut my door. Just can’t believe she chased me with a fork. Now I’m sitting here starving. Ugh mom. 



To the Grave


Where are you that you can sting me with out fear of retaliation marksman? Making me lie in this pit of mud and rocks, the womb of the earth dyeing. Why do you wait in the shadows? Come out and face me! (Tries to stand up but falls) I see you approach me from the dark corners of my eyes and I say, stay back. Is it time to go so early? My body is still filled with rage and the adventure of youth. Has my fruit withered on the vine before harvest day? NO, this must be a dream that lies on the precipice of a nightmare. I must wipe the sleep from my eyes and cast away the warm blanket of blood. My thoughts rush through me in a harmonic hum that reminds me of a lullaby, I can’t remember its name nor want to.


After cursing you I manage a crawl to my gun half buried in the mud useless. I want to breathe with out filter but the air is poison. This is not war as told by the flyer and posters behind Mr. Joe’s pub. War was to between men like the knights of old. Whose escapades captivated me and encouraged me to destroy my toys for king and country. So when the war drums sounded I jumped to the call, leaving a young wife and a crying infant. Will I leave them? I thought I be back a hero some one to look up at not a statistic.


I want to go home and wake up from this dream, which is death. I want to go to work at the post office on this rainy Monday. Then get off from work and come into my house with the broken screen door, just in time for my favorite radio show the one with that old timely music. Then take a bath and go to sleep. I won’t have to kill or put on my mask or fear anything.  I fear my sleep will be sound however and no pinch will wake me.

I stay there in a daze for a long while. Remembering my life, what I liked about it what I didn’t. I think about you and what will it be after. Will there be tea and crumpets, family, friends, children, pets? What is it like, I feel you will soon tell me but until you do I will ponder. A casualties of world war two


My Weird Family- Mono

Henry Poeng


My Weird Family

I am your worse nightmare, the entity that you fear the most. I am evil, conniving, relentless. Chuck Norris checks for me under his bed every night, but i’m not there.   What can he or you do about me? Nothing. But I can do everything to you. You cannot escape me, because I live in your very essence. I am here to drag you down, to leave you sad, hopeless and dry on the streets. I will claim you and use you for my own greed, for my own jealousy.

I lead you, tempt you. 

I am the reason you sit there and doubt your self. Try as you might to make it into my brothers arms, but I will not let you. His warm embrace is something you will not and should not feel so long as I exist. The feeling that he brings, and the comfort of living, is not something you can have. 


My most hated enemy, and yet so close to me. 

See that kid walking out of school without a care in the world? He is my target now. (Points towards something) He will feel my wrath. He will not go towards the path of my brother, that dark sinister path of happiness. (Shivers)  As he walks home, I claim him. (Hugging Motion) I whisper in his ear (lower tone) “What’s the point of going on? You have no friends, so why?” I listen as his will cracks. (Snapping motion) He listens, but he fights. He fights to do the right thing, but I don’t let him. 

I won’t let him. 

As he approaches home, I lead him into the alley way and he lights one. (Pretends to light a cigarette) Right into my arms, and as far away as possible from Success. (Extensive hug) Over the years, he becomes the shadow of his former self. Homeless on the bench with nothing but rags and a dirty hat. My influence among those that call for me, and that I choose, is simply enormous. I refuse to let go until I know that deep down in the dark abyss of my soul, he can no longer go on. This is only one example of my power. Even MC Hammer got touched. A power and feat that Success will never have.

(2 second pause)


That name, oh how I despise it. How can we be twins, but be so different? Father equality, and mother Balance, (Puts one hands out for equality and one for balance, Kind of like a scale.)  how could they give birth to such a hideous excuse of a brother? 

(4 second pause)

It hurts. 

It hurts, that they love him more. 

Him. (Points off stage)

But I will never get the same love. I have to force my own. Anything to prevent that fool from getting what I rightfully deserve. 

(2 second pause)


It is such a heart-wrenching name. Something I will forever hate.

See that little boy there sitting in the hospital bed? That was me, I did that to him. That’s right, his heart, (Grabs heart) I will claim it and he will recede into the darkness.  

They try so hard, so hard to fight me. But I can’t let them win. I won’t. They will love me, embrace me in their mind, and accept the fact that they are lost in the limbos of life and despair. 

All because of me. (Really long and drawn out)

In my mind, after completing all these tasks that I set out to do, I feel him. 


 I feel his presence in my soul. As if I he touched my very being. I hate that feeling. It’s the feeling that I long to rip from everyone who I call a victim. 


I can’t win, he won’t leave me alone. There is nothing I can do to escape him, but I don’t want to. He calls to me and whispers “No matter how much you hate me, I will love you unconditionally, and be there for you always.”

 This strange foreign feeling, I..I..I.. think it’s called love. (Emotional) 

No. I have to fight it, and never submit to his will. (Snaps head)

It felt so good, but I have a mission, a goal. That goal is to break the morale of my prisoners, and veer them in the wrong direction. 

My name is.. Failure. My intentions are clear. I am the young twin sister of success. Daughter of Equality and Balance, and tormentor of people all over the world. 

Better hope your not next.


Alone- Jhonas Dunakin

Jhonas Dunakin Alone                                                           


            It was awfully nice for you to take me out to lunch. I do enjoy the sandwiches here they’re very delightful. The taste of this sandwich reminds me of the times when my dad was actually happy, he’s changed ever since my mom died in the car accident. He’s never been the same, he’s more serious and I never see him ever since I was 10. I’ve never expressed these emotions before ad you’ve been my motherly figure for all these years, you’re the only person I can come to. I’m starting to regret coming to work here. We do so much harm to people and there is so much lying and secrecy. I don’t think I can take it anymore, so much pressure. Everything was fine when I decided to work for my dad, until the occupy protests began. I started to second-guess myself and I’m actually thinking of helping those people. My peers say that I’m actually helping them, but I don’t think that’s true. I make $9,000,000 a year, me just me that’s only helpful for me. I think I’ve been tricked by my dad into coming to work for him, it all makes since now. He’s using me so someone can take control of the company. Was this his plan from the beginning? It can’t be, he loves me. Or he did love me; this is what it seems like now. No, I’m contradicting myself, why would he hate something he created. I’ve supported him through all my years and what do I get in return, nothing. I get ignorance, hate, and now I feel fear. He started the fear but the people on the occupy protest’s escalated it to a point were I’m having doubts. Do you see how messed up I’ve become? Can’t he see he’s made me into something that I’m not? I wanted to be an astronaut or a nurse, something that is useful. I hate myself, I hate my life, I hate what I’ve become, I hate this man. Tell me what I’m going to do to fix this problem. Maria? Where’d you go?