Collage

The 2020 edition of Collage is dedicated to the English Department Chair- Edward Schmieder. Lover of Language Admirer of the Arts Thank you for your unending support. Congratulations on your retirement. We wish you the best!

I debated, there was little to no chance that the home owners would know, let alone care And my favorite chocolate bars were just waiting for me. I twiddled my thumbs as I imagined it. The surgery, creamy, caramel filled the delicious milk chocolate. My mouth started to water and I had made my decision. I packed three in my case quickly and started to walk away. *SHUFFLE*&nbsp; I ignored the noise and continued. My mind raced,&nbsp;I continued around their bushes ….. BOO! I gasped and staggered back onto the wet grass that stained my costume. &nbsp;A tall clown hovered over me, &nbsp;“TAKE ONE,” it growled at me. &nbsp;I apologized profusely, my voice cracked every other word,&nbsp; “Go Away.” &nbsp;My flight reflexes made my legs go as fast as lightning.

FIJI by Jaclyn K As you set out for Fiji hope your road is a long one,&nbsp; full of new people, full of new experiences, happiness, smiles, and laughter don't be afraid of them: you’ll never find things like that on your way as long as you keep a closed mind, as long as a rare excitement stirs your spirit and your body. Enjoy every adventure you take you won't encounter them&nbsp; unless you keep moving forward, unless your soul sets them up in front of you. Hope your road is a beautiful one. may there be no worries or concerns, with no regrets, only positivity, you control your life may you stop at every beach to take in all the beautiful scenery you have always dreamed of seeing in person and may you hike to every unimaginable waterfall that you have only looked at online. Keep Fiji always in your mind.

A Spooky Story by Aidan M As me and a few of my friends walked down the dark, deserted street, I couldn’t help but wonder if we were the only ones left alive in this town. All the houses down the sides of the road had their lights off and doors shut. There was nothing but the faint sounds of cars on the highway far off, the fact that I could even hear it told me that we were the only ones out for miles, as it was normally impossible not to detect the faint rushing sounds. Everything was dark. It didn’t help that I had on a gas mask as my costume, which I had given up trying to defog ages ago. I was dressed as a rioter or a post apocalyptic-survivor, but to be honest, even I really didn't know what I was supposed to be. I had on a black hoodie and torn jeans, and a replica of Lucille - the bat wrapped in barbed wire that Teagan carries around in The Walking Dead. I asked Evan, the friend to my right (who was wearing a giant red fat suit), what time it was.

Art Advisor Ms. J. Berotti Art Editors Jessica F Michelle B

Literary Advisor Ms. S. Censoplano Literary Editors Lindsey Y

Collage would&nbsp;like to take a moment to say goodbye to two beloved members of our Sayville family-Donna Papa and Lori Elia. Their love for the students they worked with was obvious in everything they did. They looked forward to reading our magazine each year and were enormously supportive and proud of our talented students.&nbsp;During finals week, we would leave a big pile of magazines on Mrs. Papa's desk. She would wave one at every student leaving the gymnasium. Who could resist her? Thank you for your help Mrs. Papa.&nbsp;Likewise, we would bring copies to the testing center for Mrs. Elia to read. She was very artistic herself, and really appreciated seeing the work our students produce. She often told us how incredible these kids are.&nbsp; We send our deepest sympathies to the Papa and Elia Families.&nbsp; With loving memory, The Staff at Collage

“It’s, uh, 12:33,” he responded. It was actually getting pretty late, and a few comments about calling it a night floated around the group. We had gotten a lot of candy, after all, and our feet were starting to hurt. However, James, the boy to my right, had another idea. James had sort of been rejected at houses all night. And rightfully so, his costume was really lame. All he did was tape an upside-down Batman symbol to the front of his black Beatles sweatshirt and he called himself “manbat.” It was a good laugh though.&nbsp; Anyways, James wasn’t satisfied with the amount of candy he got, and told us that he knew a couple houses that give out king sized candy bars in bowls. He named a few streets and addresses throughout the town. We live in a pretty rich neighborhood, so it’s not an uncommon occurrence, after all. He guessed that they were probably too lazy to take their bowls in after dark, and that if we were to say, take everything in those bowls, we wouldn’t be taking from anyone since we were the last people out trick-or-treating. It made sense to the rest of us, so we started to continue down the road. I, personally, thought it was a little creepy that he had a note saved on his phone that was called “targets” and was filled with people’s addresses. After about 5 seconds, we realized that for some reason, Evan didn’t follow.

Where I’m From by Clare S I am from homemade blondies, From Tollhouse chocolate chip cookies and Land O’Lakes Butter&nbsp; I am from the white house with green shutters warm, welcoming It looked calming and felt peaceful I am from the boxwoods the bright pink and yellow astilbes I am from summer vacations and silliness from Brendan and Patrick and Mom I'm from a competitive and funny family From never give up and always do your best I’m from attending mass at church every Sunday at St.Lawrence I’m from Northern Ireland Delectable Irish soda bread and creamy mashed potatoes From the thrilling fishing trips with grandpa (and always returning with a fish)&nbsp; The nurturing of my older brothers kitchen table I am from a blue-collar family on Long Island

“Are you two in kahoots or something?” Aidan looked from Hunter to Evan. “Cuz if so, it’s a pretty dumb prank.”&nbsp; “No! I legit heard a noise!” Hunter said; he looked serious. But then again, both him and Evan had taken acting classes, so it was hard to tell when they were faking you. “Even if you did, it was just an echo. Or the same raccoon from earlier,” said Jacob. “Why is it so hard to just walk without stopping rando-” “That’s no goddamn raccoon,” James said, a little shakily. He was staring at the car Hunter had gestured at. &nbsp;I followed his gaze, and was terrified to see a black, humanoid figure crawling out from under the car. I dropped my mask and picked up the baseball bat I was carrying around.&nbsp; I stared at it; it stared at me.

by Clare S As you set out for the Great Barrier Reef hope your road is a long one, full of boat rides, full of observations, wildlife, excitement, learning don’t be afraid of sharks, you’ll never find things like that on your way as long as you remain calm and are cautious as long as a rare excitement&nbsp; stirs your spirit and your body. Explore the barrier and what it contains you won’t encounter sharks unless you prod at one, unless your soul sets them up in front of you. Hope your road is a fascinating one May there be adventurous scuba dives, with astonishing views, memories, and thrill. You may stop at the reefs to but a passion for taking care of nature And may you visit the Sydney Opera House Keep the Great Barrier Reef always in your mind

“What’s wrong?” Aidan looked at him. Aidan had dressed as Paul McCartney from the Beatles, and had walked around barefoot all night, replicating the Abbey Road album cover. Most of us were surprised he was still able to go on, since we were in pain even with our shoes on. “I thought I heard a noise!” Evan was looking around like he was alarmed. “What, scared of some raccoon or something?” called Jacob, the last boy in our group. He had dressed as Joker for Halloween, along with Hunter who was next to him. “Yeah! They carry, like, rabies and stuff,” he called back. “Just hurry up!” James shouted “FIne!” Evan said, then ran to catch up to us.

The Collage would like to honor our Art Editor Jessica F. with this year's Senior Showcase. For the past three years she has made artistic contributions in layout and design as well as photography. Her strong sense of design has helped The Collage evolve to what it is today. Please enjoy a selection of her artwork from her time at Sayville High School. We would like to wish Jess all the luck in the world as she heads off to college this fall. Congratulations Jess, and thank you!

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Collage Art and Literary Magazine 2019-2020

Joyous…↡&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; by Kristen T Joyous when my family is all together underneath one roof. Joyous when Christmastime grows near. Joyous when I hear the laughter of my siblings having fun. Joyous when I see my family after I get home from school. Joyous when I hit a home run and touch all 4 bases. Joyous when I make the JV or Varsity team. Joyous when I hit my foul shots. Joyous when it’s summer and I can go to the beach. Joyous when I go to Discovery Cove and swim with dolphins. Joyous when we go on a family vacation. Joyous when I get 100s on my tests. Joyous when I eat ice cream. Joyous when my family continued to grow larger. Joyous when I see people I haven’t seen in a while. Joyous when the Christmas pageant is right around the corner. Joyous when I visit my grandparents across the street. Joyous when I am creating artwork. Joyous when I have a great night’s sleep. Joyous when I snowboard in Camelback. Joyous when I hear Christmas music. Joyous when I get my sister from school. Joyous when we watch movies with my family in my living room. Am I this joyous all the time?♡♡♡

&nbsp;ONLY TAKE ONE by Justine L As we approached my street, I said my goodbyes to my friends&nbsp; And turned into my dark street. It had been almost midnight and a sugar rush took over my body. There was one final house I decided to stop by. &nbsp;It was blue with a splintered wooden deck and I soon noticed a bowl sitting on a stained stool. Lugging my pillow case over my shoulder, I trailed through their driveway. There was a paper sign on top of the bowl. “Only take one.”

I couldn’t really get a good look at it, because it was pitch black outside, and I was too busy fearing for my life. I looked to my left and saw that the rest of them had booked it; they were halfway down the street by now.&nbsp; At that point, I did the logical thing and dropped everything and ran. I assumed that I could catch Evan pretty quickly. A few amusing thoughts went through my head of tripping him as a sacrifice, which wasn’t very appropriate for the time. It wasn’t long after I caught up to the rest of the group that we reached James’ house, which was our original destination. We had planned to finish looting his block and then order a pizza, before James gave his god-forsaken idea to visit the king-sized houses. He jammed the key in the door and threw it open. I looked back, and saw that the black figure was still chasing us. It looked like it was running faster than any normal human should, but I couldn’t tell because of the dark. It seemed like it had grown taller since I saw it last. Then, I saw another shape move in the woods, which terrified me. I opened my mouth to say something, but decided I didn’t trust my imagination. We all rushed inside as James slammed the door closed. There was a second slam, but on the door, and then silence. We stayed quiet for a while, but we were all out of breath, and Evan soon fell over on the couch panting loudly, like a dog. I felt like my guts were about to fall out. I was however, pretty bummed out about leaving my costume behind.

My Shadow by Scarlett F Each day as I follow you around I see how you're stiff and anxious. You are always thinking about what can go wrong instead of what can go right. You need to focus on the positive things rather than negative things. You're wasting time that you will never get back by feeling this way, and it is not worth it. You continuously ask yourself, “Why did I do that?” I try to tell you instead of thinking what could have been wrong in the past, think of the things you can do in the present. I know you have tests coming up and you're scared. I tell you to try and focus more, but I can see that it is hard for you since you're focusing on how you're feeling scared. I tell you that you're smart and to believe in yourself, but you shut me out. You look around at everyone else to see how they are understanding things instead of seeing how you can help yourself to better understand things. You need to let go of how other people view you and be happy, not worried. Do it for yourself and your own good. Everybody makes mistakes, but you just need to pick yourself up and do better every single time. You’re growing and learning. You're not the only person who feels like this, but sometimes you just need to let those feelings go. If something goes wrong, just know that things will get better. I hope you take my advice and use it to your advantage. Soon all your worries will be gone and in the past.

The Shore by Michael P As you set out across the lake hope your road is a long one,&nbsp; full of hope, full of serenity murky darkness, raw frigidity, lurking beasts don’t be afraid of them: you’ll never find things like that on your way as long as you retain your head above the surface, as long as a rare excitement stirs your spirit and your body. Ferocious snapping turtles, violent suffocation, dreadfully aching muscles you won’t encounter them unless you grant fatigue complete control, unless your soul sets them upon in front of you. Hope your road is a fulfilling one. May there be sand beneath your feet, with sweet relief, contentment, you finish far ahead of your adversaries may you stop at the floating buoys along the journey to fill your lungs with fresh, crisp air,&nbsp; as a means to acquire the determination and vigor to proceed and may you visit the gorgeous underwater havens inhabited by a diversity of fish. Keep the shore always in your mind.

“On Turning 16” by Amanda H How would it feel to finally be the age I’ve been yearning for? To feel all the new freedom I’ve fantasized over all of the respect and exciting choices gained. To choose left or right at the wheel of my cute and tiny first car, newly mesmerized at simple glowing traffic lights with open eyes staring ahead. Giving my poor tired ears a break&nbsp; from hearing, “No, wait until you’re at least 16.” New relationships and opportunities to pursue Why should I have to wait that long? The chance to be seen as mature and worthy of respect, having my opinion mean something in discussions. No more hidden secrets and lies just because they truly wouldn’t try to understand. Living out this beautiful fleeting youth,&nbsp; rather than letting it quietly slip away. Not needing to beg like a flustered baby just to stay out a little longer. To experience real heartbreak but recover into a better person afterwards. Once I have turned 16, I will look back on how childish I used to be. How I needed to be looked after with unconditional love while I was snuggled up sick in bed. How my parents always asked how I was doing, and cared so much as to stay up&nbsp; until they heard the door at the time of my hated curfew. I will reminisce about the times where heartache wasn’t a thing and my days were filled with carnivals, movies, and fun as I sit in bed with a box of tissues. I’ve turned the age that I’ve been wanting, so why am I missing the past so much?

“What in god’s name was that?” Aidan panted. “Why would I know?” I responded. “Probably just some prankster,” James said. “You wanna go find out for us?” Jacob asked in a sarcastic voice. “God no,” answered Aidan. We all agreed, and decided to wait it out. We didn’t want to call the police in the chance that it was just some teenager looking for entertainment, but I called my mom and told her that I would like to stay the night because someone chased us. I had rode my bike, and I definitely didn’t want to go outside after that.

by Jaclyn K&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Almost like a rocketship, but not Miles and miles in the air Nobody really questions how it happens, it just does The cold breeze shooting down over me while in my seat The feeling of butterflies in my stomach from being so high in the air&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The feeling of my heart stopping every time there's turbulence The smell of nuts and pretzels floating around as everyone enjoys their snack I hear the man snoring behind me A mom trying to calm her screaming baby down Hearing all the laughter and arguing of the people around me&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; But all of it goes away when you open up the window cover and take a good look&nbsp; Huge white puffy clouds, so fluffy and light, You could almost touch them Glistening never ending bodies of water&nbsp; The top of snowy mountains you never thought to imagine Millions of pastel colors as the sun begins to set&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I could stare out that window for hours, Life is beautiful.&nbsp;

On Turning 87 by Dylan T&nbsp; Upon turning 87, I have experienced insane things. I have seen acts of detrimental hatred toward many different people. I have seen, first-hand, people being severely tortured and killed in WWIII and WWIV. I have also experienced incredible acts of kindness, like my second love giving her heart to her sister in hopes that she might live. By far the most tragic thing that has ever happened to me was losing my wife, the love of my life, in 2071 to a disease that no one could do anything about. The disease that she has had since birth. The most inspirational thing that has happened in my life was in 2052, The Great Animal Crisis, when there was, at most, 15 of each species of animal left on Earth. A single anonymous man, a very ,VERY rich and generous man, provided upwards of 100 billion dollars to repopulate the animals on Earth and along with this established a ban on hunting in over 80 countries. People are still pushing to establish it in even more countries.

Halloween Walk By Evie K Windows of old houses Creak in the dead of night As I trudge my way home Squirrels and stray cats scavenging for food Eerie fog engulfs everything A soft creak of a door can be heard in the distance Although it may be just my imagination I see a dark, intimidating figure Looming over the homes It speaks in a cold breeze That gives my arms goosebumps It possesses the nearby animals Who screech and howl for a moment I look down at my hands for confirmation, Am I changing too? My arm shrivels into a small wrinkled lump I look up-- The figure is gone. I continue my walk home Never knowing&nbsp; What paid me a visit that day.

When he caught up, he was pretty out of breath, as he was not in the best shape, but we started walking again. As we walked, I slung my backpack off my shoulder and started digging around looking for that bag of Doritos I got from that nice lady in the blue house earlier that day. I was pretty hungry. The last time I had eaten was when that weirdo down on Adams Street had given us all Bagel Bites instead of candy. Then, Hunter stopped. We all looked at him, kind of angry because this was the second time we were waiting on someone. “I just heard a noise as well.” “That was me, brainlet,” I pulled the gas mask off my face to look at him, having found the bag of Doritos. “Shut up and walk.” “No, not you. Something from behind that car.” He gestured towards a minivan on the side of the street, which was parked in front of a run down house that looked like they hadn’t mowed their lawn since the Stone Age.

My Odyssey by Christina A As you set out for Aquarius Hope your road is a long one, Full of happiness, full of strength, courage, love, and many lessons to learn. don’t be afraid of them: You’ll never find things like that on your way As long as you remain strong and confident like a diamond As long as a rare excitement Stirs in your spirit and your body. Weaknesses and fear&nbsp; You won’t encounter them&nbsp; Unless you shy away from your goal. Unless your soul sets them up in front of you. Hope your road is a magical one. May there be many guardians of constellations assisting you, With magical clothes, magical wands, You are the guardian of Aquarius. May you stop at a shooting star in the enchanting galaxy, To buy the keys that will help your quest for solar freedom. And may you visit other planets to fight evil that attacks the people living there Keep Aquarius always in your mind.

Envy by Abby C Envy is the wanting to fit in. Envy is the reason friends break apart. Envy is the feeling of self-loathing. Envy is full of resentfulness of others. Envy is desire and wanting. Envy is to be wanted and desired.&nbsp; Envy is the feeling of being disconnected from others around. Envy is green like poison. Envy the desire to have what you cannot. Envy sends money flying out of wallets. Envy is the value of being ungrateful. Envy is the fear of joining. Envy is the pressure to do things that are unnerving. Envy is the need to impress. Envy is the luck that some do not possess. Envy is exaggerating the worst. Envy is the fear of being yourself. Envy is the fuel of dislike. Envy is harmful to others. Envy is hurtful to yourself. Envy is an ever growing cage of&nbsp; loneliness. Envy is the reason people dislike each other. Envy is the want of approval. Envy is the reason for wanting to improve. Envy is the want of approval. Huh... I wonder if I do that?

My Retreat by Riley M We have to be quiet. No one can find my spot or people will come and ruin it. There were clearly people here before me. Empty bottles of liquid art turned into treasure or vulgarity. I’ll never partake in that activity; I don’t have the drive. Smell. Smell of filth, yet it is cleansing. The air of your grandmother’s basement. Beige rubble piled on broken beds once used by the passed. Sounds of isolation cascade through modern walls broken by Mother Nature. The feeling of broken windows under my high tops reminds me of the people who once peered into freedom. We better run; another one needs time in the building with no one inside. Someone needs to put eyes to mouth to ears and on trees nearby. Someone needs to be alone in their head. Someone needs to calm down in the damaged art display. The Museum of Disorder. Someone else needs to be quiet. Smell the mold. Look at the history of the building with no one inside. When you first step into the museum, fear goes through your bones. It is unexplainable, so I advise you to stay home. Don’t bother coming to the Museum of Disorder. You aren’t ready to open your mind to the opinionated frames. You’ll just bring your skunks, snow, and bubbles; not fit for the outdated scene. Unless, you have courage. The museum likes courage. Come again, take a look at my walls. Let all your troubles escape into the building with no one inside.

&nbsp;Where I’m From by&nbsp;Jordan C I am from the leather chair in the living room, from Kleenex and Band-Aids. I am from the house with the beautiful gardens, whimsical and colorful. It smelled like freshly cut grass.&nbsp; I am from the weeping willow,&nbsp; the magnolia tree, and awaiting it’s bloom because it meant Spring was finally here.&nbsp; I’m from the late summer nights in the pool and the laughter from my parents, my sister, and I.&nbsp; I’m from the long and cumbersome car rides&nbsp; up to the ski mountain;&nbsp; Hours upon hours of “I spy” and “Apples to Apples”&nbsp; on a rainy weekend night.

From, “Don’t put off for tomorrow&nbsp; what can be done today,” And, “If you have your health, you have&nbsp; everything.” I’m from Hanukkah and Christmas, singing Jewish prayers until&nbsp; they were engraved into my mind.&nbsp; I’m from good old Long Island, spaghetti and meatballs on a Sunday night,&nbsp; or a grilled steak made by my dad.&nbsp; From the panicked feeling when&nbsp; we thought my sister was kidnapped,&nbsp; To the candy that I, myself,&nbsp; claimed to eat “by accident.” The pictures hanging on the walls throughout my house,&nbsp; of vacations, photoshoots, and family traditions. I am from the laughter, memories, and endless love from my family.

by Michael P I am from nine-volt batteries, from soldering irons and circuit boards. I am from the single story ranch with the elongated porch. (Humble, charming, it sounded like booming, electric guitars.) I am from the rhododendron, the cherry tree, brilliantly blossoming in the summertime. I’m from the ski trips and blue eyes, from Arthur and Christopher&nbsp; and Bridget. I’m from the nightly family dinners&nbsp; and being overly enthusiastic. From “Don’t forget!” and “Never give up!” I’m from Thanksgiving prayers, every relative bursting with jubilation and gratitude. I’m from the rugged coast and tranquil pastures of Ireland, corned beef and cabbage. From the waterfall where my adventurous father almost fell, the energy of my brother in the school play. Tucked away in the hall cabinets are family photo albums, methodically composed of snapshots from throughout the decades I am from secluded campgrounds in the mountains,&nbsp; among the stunning, emerald green foliage.

#31 by Nicholas A&nbsp; Six A.M., my alarm clock proudly states. I abruptly snatch it so my wife doesn’t wake with the same old complaint. She’s asleep, good start. Blue denim and a button down for today. Although I am just a hackney driver in central London, I always pride myself for my customers so they feel comfortable in my car, and know that I’m not just some bum who just got a job for some easy money. I get in my vehicle, almost 7 years old now, and drive to the local Medix. I restock on cigarettes and chewing gum, while also treating myself to tea.&nbsp; 7 A.M. I'm on the clock. My mind has already started to sail away to this evening, just me and my wife playing cards and baking sweets. Nevertheless, that is kilometers away, and for now, it's just me and the road. When I am on the road, I have a lot of time for myself. All I do is think and traverse the open world ahead, wherever that may lead. I think about who I am, where I've been. And although I may just drive all day and I'm not some high class businessman, I see myself in a different light. I have met hundreds of people from working. Each one with a difference of age, mindsets, and experiences. Some charismatic, full of sugars and sweets. Then there are those who are silent and may feel suppressed by the enclosed doors of my vehicle, and some can even be a bit rough around the edges at times. But if there is one thing that I have learned, if you are as sweet as a jelly baby or as sour as a rattler, you’re still candy. That's what really matters.&nbsp; I love my job. I see things differently than most; I see things that other people simply do not see. I hear vacant traces of skipping wheels, I see the singing birds in the rain who just want to forget about today until tomorrow. I am living on the road, my friend. Nothing can bring me down. So many countless years of love and life and experiences that make my life unique. My skin’s as tough as iron and my breath is more potent than kerosene. I am mine. And so, just like that, my road trip is over. I return to my flat, have fish and chips with my wife, and enjoy the smallest of things for that night, and for the years to come. And even though they are the little things, they hold the most worth to me. That’s what truly matters.

Goodbye by Emma H Icy air that hurt me to breathe,&nbsp; Shadows plunged into the depth beneath my feet.&nbsp; Waking up the town was the whispering wind,&nbsp; Forcefully whipping down the winding roads.&nbsp; Barking dogs echoed into the snowy mountains,&nbsp; And greetings started from friendly neighbors passing by.&nbsp; The lakeside restaurant opened as it always did,&nbsp; The scent of cinnamon french toast slowly engulfing me.&nbsp; The church bells rang out sweetly,&nbsp; Burning wood floated out of chimneys.&nbsp; I spent every summer since age seven,&nbsp; Flying off my dock,&nbsp; Descending into the lightless lake,&nbsp; Deeper and deeper every year I aged. Frozen wind blew my coppery hair back-&nbsp; Tropical wind will soon blow my hair,&nbsp; Scorching sun will soon burn my pale skin,&nbsp; Bitter salt water will soon sting my robin blue eyes,&nbsp; The smell of exhaust will soon be greeting me every morning.&nbsp; Lights will flash late into the night,&nbsp; The mountains will no longer be my protectors,&nbsp; But I will soon be susceptible with concrete closing in on me. I may have to say a reluctant goodbye now,&nbsp; Yet, before long, I will be back . . .

Overthinking by Christina A My head throbs violently as I begin to think… Or overthink. Thump.&nbsp;Thump.&nbsp;Questions with no answers. Are there answers? Why was I born? I look in the mirror. It could’ve been anyone else, but I see a girl with brown hair and brown eyes look back. That’s me? Why am I so ugly?&nbsp;Or is it pretty?&nbsp; Why do opinions matter more than facts?&nbsp; Why do girls obsess over their appearances so much? Overthinking. I look at the photo of Alex and I from our one year anniversary. We look so happy - or I do. Is he happy? How long will we last? I try to shake the thoughts out of my head, but they keep coming back. Again. Again. Again. Why do I think? They way I think is like driving a car off a cliff. Good, but then too much. Am I okay? I think so.&nbsp;This does happen to teenage girls after all. But the question arises. What is thinking? Is it a gift or a torture device? What is thinking for you?

I don’t know if I’ll stay there. I may decide to go to London, and charge wealthy British people for therapy. Or maybe I’ll go to the Swiss Alps and sit by the fireplace and conceptualize ideas for my young adult novel. Or I’ll stay in Barbados and become a real estate agent, to sell mansions by the beach. All I know for certain is that I will never, ever, turn 27. I turn out the lights and pull my luggage into the hallway. Across the hall, I see my two eighty-something-year-old neighbors, hand-in-hand, smiling at each other with more love in their eyes than I’ve ever seen. I realize then, that 27 isn’t where the road ends. Maybe Paris will just&nbsp; be a much-needed get-away.

My Shadow by Abby C As subtle as a feather falling on the floor there is something always pulling at the back of my mind. Sometimes good and bright, with the tricks it plays on my mind. Most of the time it’s bitter and torcherous, inserting thoughts into my consciousness. The Shadow at the back of my mind craves for attention. Constantly fighting with other thoughts to be at the front. “Let me through!” it screams, until I let it flow through my thoughts, causing pain and anxiety to flow from the madness that it spreads. Hungry for more, it grows. It grows and it grows until I’m almost consumed. Then something happens. Out of nowhere there is a light so brilliant that my shadow almost fades completely. In the light’s boldness, there is a shimmering undertone of calm and gentle elegance that could soothe even the most traumatized man. Calling out, it banished my shadow back down to the dark cavern where it belonged. I could never get rid of my shadow even if I wanted to. As long as it's part of me, I’m stuck with it. It will always be there. Like a predator to prey, it will alway be watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

THEM by Dylan T For far too long our tiny gilled “friends” have been overlooked, tossed aside as if&nbsp;insignificant. Now, they’re back, and IT. IS. BAD. It was a typical NYC evening. Cars were honking. People yelling. It had begun to rain. Then out of nowhere, goldfish. They were huge, massive, COLOSSAL! Half the size of the Empire State! By the time any government help came, it was too late. We tried shooting them with fire hoses, only making them stronger, and the rain did not help. Buildings toppled easily. We ran. As the only survivor, I can say, NYC is no more.

The Coney Island Dream by Angel S As you set out for the Coney Island dream hope your road is a long one, full of haze, full of curiosity. Shadowy figures, lonely evenings, night terrors, don’t be afraid of them: you’ll never find things like that on your way as long as your heart and mind are full of youth, as long as a rare excitement stirs your spirit and your body. The Angels that walk the earth, you won’t encounter them&nbsp; unless you count your blessings every time the sun sets, unless your soul sets them up in front of you. Hope your road is an ethereal one. May there be stacks of poetry books in your boudoir, with a box of fresh macarons, wrapped in a silk ribbon, you should always have something sweet to go with your literature. May you stop at the Chateau Marmont&nbsp; to buy a few nights of the Hollywood Starlet Experience, as well as some lacy clothes and expensive perfumes. May you visit the heart shaped tubs of the abandoned Penn Hills, est. 1944. Keep the Coney Island dream always in your mind.

On Turning 27 by Corinne E As I flip the light switch of my apartment off for the last time, I feel a pang of remorse. But I cannot give in. Because tomorrow is my 27th birthday, and I’m leaving. I don’t really have a final destination, but I have a one-way ticket to Paris for 8:00 tonight.&nbsp; I’ve always wanted to travel to Paris, but I never had any real intention to do so until very recently. Exactly one month before my 27th birthday, I was on the phone with my brother, who’s in medical school, when he mentioned what a month from that day was. I lost the ability to breathe. I couldn’t listen to another word he said. You probably don’t think 27 is very old. But I do. I’m running out of time. So I decided I would never turn 27. Within the next hour, I booked my flight and sold my apartment. You see, during that phone call, I realized my life was progressing unlike how I imagined it would. So I settled on creating a new life for myself. One where I won’t be 27. Because if I turn 27, I won’t stand a chance. I’ll soon be 37. Then 47. I’ll spend 57, 67, 77, 87, 97, wishing I hadn’t turned 27. Then I will be gone.&nbsp; In Paris, no one knows me. No one even speaks my language. No family member will come to my house and tell me how much of a mess it is, that I need to hire a cleaning crew. I won’t remember the heartbreaks and disappointments. I’ll be moving on to the City of Love.&nbsp; Turning 27 opens the door to new possibilities, such as a lifetime of new ailments and illnesses, and I refuse to walk through it. Because in Paris, I won’t be 27. I’ll be free.

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